Marooned with a Millionaire (11 page)

L
izzie wasn't exactly sorry, but she was a little frustrated by the time they pulled through the gate of Miami's ultraexclusive Sky Bridge Yacht Club and Resort located on the Intracoastal Waterway. Jack hadn't said much of anything during the twenty-minute drive, only that he'd been busy for the past few weeks traveling to his hotels throughout the world. Tough break, Lizzie thought with a good deal of sarcasm. The highlight of her life for the past few weeks had involved literal highlights.

And even more exasperating, Jack hadn't even hinted at why they'd come to this particular place. But more important, he hadn't said that he'd missed her.

Even if it hurt like a hornet sting, it really didn't matter. She would graciously take a look at what he
had to show her and then she would return to her life with the request that he not bother her again. She couldn't be just a friend. If she wanted to stay on track she didn't need him showing up and reminding her of what she could never have—a future with him in it.

After they pulled into a parking space, Jack turned off the Mercedes's ignition. “We're here.”

“Good. Now what do you want to show me?”

He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves but still looked very uncomfortable. “I have something to give you before we get out.”

“Okay.”

He fished in his pocket, withdrew a burgundy velvet jewel box and handed it to her.

Lizzie's heart danced a jig—until she opened it. Now her feelings were caught in a tangled web of joy mixed with disappointment as she stared at the necklace—her necklace—the one she'd thought she'd lost forever. Although she was thrilled to have it back, for one brief moment—one crazy instant—she'd imagined finding a ring inside. An engagement ring. How stupid was that?

Trying to affect enthusiasm, Lizzie smiled as she took the necklace from the box and dangled it from her fingers. “Oh, Jack. I can't believe this. Where did you find it?”

“Actually, the smugglers found it on deck. I forgot to tell you during all the chaos. The police confiscated it and returned it to the hotel a few days ago, so I decided to return it to you in person.”

“I'm so glad to have it back.” And she was. She'd greatly missed her lucky charms and the good memories of her parents they had so often provided.

When she circled the chain around her neck, Jack said, “Turn around and I'll fasten it.”

Lizzie complied and held her hair up, allowing him better access. As he worked the clasp, his fingers brushed against her nape, spreading a warm glow throughout her being. But Lizzie acknowledged it was only common courtesy that prompted his touch, nothing more.

After he had the necklace secured, Lizzie called up her self-control and shifted in the seat to face him again. “So that's what you wanted to show me? My necklace?”

“If that were true, I wouldn't have driven all the way here.”

Jack slid out and rounded to Lizzie's side then opened the door for her. She took the hand he offered, immediately jolted by the feel of his callused palm enfolding hers, and even more surprised when he didn't let her go. She realized how very much she had missed touching him, missed everything about him, in fact. But she couldn't let holding hands turn her head. Most likely he worried she might slip and tumble arse over appetite considering her inherent lack of grace while wearing moderate heels.

Jack led Lizzie at a fast clip past the yacht club's luxury condos and onto the boardwalk. Power walking was not one of Lizzie's fave activities even when her feet didn't ache. She wanted to tell him to slow the heck down before she gave in to the urge to scream out from pain as they strode past myriad boats positioned in double rows of slips. They turned left at the end of the L-shaped pier, traveled a few more yards where Jack abruptly stopped before a three-level yacht moored horizontally on the bayside.
A monstrous yacht, at least seventy feet long, that could best be described as a mini cruise ship.

After releasing Lizzie's hand—much to her disappointment—Jack faced her and said, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“How do you like it?”

Lizzie studied the massive streamlined boat gleaming white in the sun hovering over Biscayne Bay. “What's not to like? It's great. A regular traveling hotel. Whose is it?”

He grinned. “Mine. I bought it this morning. Sort of a spontaneous decision.”

Lizzie's idea of spontaneity involved chocolate-covered cherry ice cream after dinner. And most of the men she knew bought power tools on a whim, not power yachts. “You bought it just like that?”

“Yeah. A broker called me yesterday and told me about it. It's a one-owner custom. The best cruiser money can buy.”

Okay, so now she knew. He'd come to Miami to purchase an extravagant boat and since he was in town anyway, decided to return the necklace in person. Lizzie's disappointment came out in a crabby, “It doesn't have any sails.”

“No, it doesn't. Completely motorized with all the amenities. Just wait until you see inside.”

Lizzie didn't want to see inside. She didn't want to fall in love with the boat any more than she had wanted to fall in love with the boat's captain, only to discover that both were unattainable. Here today, gone tomorrow.

But Jack was obviously determined to show her whether she wanted it or not. Taking her by the hand again, he led her to an access gate at the stern and
on to a door that opened into the main deck. They entered a very grand salon—all elegant refinement, from the lengthy white sofa to the polished teakwood cabinets in the circular galley. Large windows gave the cabin a sense of openness; accent colors of coral and lime lent a Caribbean feel. And darn it all, if Lizzie didn't immediately fall in love with the flat-screen TV suspended from the wall opposite the sofa.

Jack paced the length of the salon while Lizzie strolled around the area, touching the opulent furniture with disbelief. She couldn't begin to imagine the size of the price tag for this house-size boat. She didn't even want to imagine it.

Pointing to the staircase winding upward, she asked, “Where does that go? To the moon?”

“To the flybridge. It has a large deck specifically for sunbathing, with or without the benefit of clothes.” Jack's husky voice incited a riot within Lizzie, but not enough of one to tear down her guard or completely dissolve her resistance.

“Great. I guess poor
Hannah
has been thrown over for a better model.”

“I still have her. But this boat is much bigger and offers more protection from the elements.” He indicated the front of the cabin and another set of stairs leading downward. “Down below there's a guest cabin with twin beds and a master cabin. Three heads total. Overall, there's plenty of room for—”

“A large gathering of socialites?”

“For a family.”

Lizzie almost stopped dead on that comment but instead decided to pay it little mind. Decided to ignore the flicker of hope trying to break through. She
had no cause to wish or even slightly assume that Jack had meant anything by it.

She faced him again, propelled by an anger she couldn't quite explain. “Very impressive, Jack. I'm happy for you and your new plaything. You know what they say about men and their toys.”

“That's not why I bought it, Liz.”

How dare he call her Liz. How dare he look at her as if she meant something to him. “Are you sure, Jack? Isn't this just a means to fill that void in your life? That's all well and good, but can possessions really do that?”

“No, they can't. And no one realizes that better than me, especially now.”

Lizzie propped her hands on her hips. “Then why buy it? Unless you intend to go into the chartering business. But I can't imagine why you'd do that. You obviously don't need the money.”

“You're right, I don't need any money. But I do need you.”

Surely he hadn't said…no, she must've heard wrong. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I need you. The rest of it doesn't matter, all of the money and prestige. Not without you to share in it.”

This time he took both her hands and guided her to the sofa. They sat side by side while Lizzie tried to clear the mental haze away by counting the glasses housed in the built-in bar's display case opposite them. Those were real; this whole scenario was surreal.

“Lizzie, look at me.” She did and found Jack sporting a soulful expression that went straight to the heart. “I tried to go back to business as usual. When
that didn't work, I took Hannah back out to sea expecting to return to my life the way it was before I met you. I couldn't.”

Hope came barreling in and ran right over her caution. “You couldn't?”

“No. But the solitude turned out to be a good thing this time. I got my head on straight and made a few decisions.”

“What decisions?”

“I decided I don't want to be Hank's godfather.”

Any hope Lizzie had entertained fell with a heavy thud on her soul. “That's okay. I understand. You don't have to—”

“I want to be his father. I want to be a part of his life, your life, if you'll have me.”

Lizzie drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I'm not sure I'm following you, Jack.”

He inched a little closer. “When I went to the salon today, I stood outside for a long time because I wasn't sure what I was going to say to you. Then I left.”

Now she was really confused. “Left?”

“Yeah. I went out and bought something else.” He released her hands and dug into his pocket again, this time withdrawing a blue velvet box that he opened in his large palm. “I probably should have let you pick it out, but this one caught my eye. I hope it's okay.”

Okay?
Okay
didn't come close to describing the huge emerald-cut diamond ring centered on a baguette-encrusted band. Lizzie couldn't do anything but stare, her lips parting in response to her shock.

“Will you marry me, Elizabeth Matheson?”

Lizzie's gaze zipped from the ring to Jack's silver eyes. “Marry you?”

“Yeah.”

“Marry you?”

“I didn't realize this place echoed so badly.”

Lizzie wanted to blurt out, “Yes!” She wanted to dance and sing and kiss the fool out of him. But first she had to know exactly why he'd proposed because otherwise she might be a fool to accept. After all, he hadn't said a thing about love. “Jack, if you're doing this because of Hank, I promise we'll be fine. I can make a good life for him. I won't be alone anymore.”

He pulled the ring from the holder then set the box on the table before them. “I'm doing this because I can't stand the thought of not having you in my life to give me grief on a daily basis.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “And more important, I'm doing this because I love you.”

Oh my gosh, he loved her? “Are you sure, Jack?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Even if I am high-maintenance, I think you called it and—”

“Lizzie—”

“Let's face it, it's a big responsibility, taking on a wife and a baby—”

“Lizzie—”

“Plus, I still don't eat meat—”

“Lizzie.”

“What?”

“You told me the day you left that you loved me. I hope to God that you still do, but I understand why you wouldn't after the way I've treated you.”

“Treated me?” Tears burned hot behind her eyes
and she fought with every fiber of her being to keep them tucked away. “You've been wonderful to me. You took care of me and protected me. You saved my life.”

“You saved mine.”

She flipped a hand in dismissal. “I picked up a trophy and whacked a thief on the head with it. Anyone would've done that.”

“I didn't mean that night with the smugglers, although you did save my life then, too. I meant you've saved me from a totally worthless existence. Made me realize how much I've been missing by not having someone in it. But not just anyone. You.” He surveyed her eyes for a long, meaningful moment. “Do you still love me?”

How could she deny it? She couldn't. “I do. I really thought I could stop but I knew that wasn't going to happen when you showed up today.”

He caught her left hand and held it up, the ring poised at the tip of her finger. “Then would you do me the honor of being my life partner?”

This was no time to be rendered mute, but she was.

Jack frowned. “It's a simple yes-or-no question, Lizzie. I've never known you to be without some kind of response.”

She tried to look serious when all she wanted to do was shout out the happiness she felt inside. “You could have gone all day without pointing that out.”

“It's one of the many things I love about you, Liz.”

She looked into his eyes so full of promise and saw her future there. Hers and Hank's future. And the word that had eluded her to that point slipped out on a breathy sigh. “Yes.”

Jack slid the ring on her finger, a near-perfect fit, then said, “Good. Now shut up and kiss me.”

Jack's lips met hers, warm and inviting, in a kiss that was tender in the beginning but turned onto a reckless course, heading straight for a passionate curve. His palm settled on her breast and Lizzie's hand landed on his thigh. One more pass over her needy flesh, one more sensuous stroke of his tongue, and she was taking him down on the sofa.

Much to Lizzie's dismay, Jack ended the kiss, dropped his hand and tipped his forehead against hers. “I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that this is only about sex.”

“I'm not sorry at all. I've recently discovered how fond I am of sex, thanks to you.”

Jack pulled her up from the sofa. “I have one more thing to show you.”

“J.J.?”

His grin knocked the wind out of her sails. “Eventually.”