Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (18 page)

And slowly, my eyes crack open, and I see that the
bright light is that of the morning sun. And I see shadows and shades
looming above me, an excited chatter in the air with words I don't
comprehend.

Gradually, my mind wakes up, and I see Flint to my side,
lifted up by many arms. I try to reach out to him, to hold him back
from being taken from me, and then I'm lifted too.

I move down the beach, supported by the shadows and
hearing the garbled chatter, and hear the sound of splashing. The
chugging gets louder, and I'm lifted higher and set down onto a deck.

There's frantic activity around me. Water is poured
sparingly into my mouth. My body, dressed only in my panties and bra,
is covered in a towel. I see Flint next to me, lying on the deck of a
boat, his leg being inspected by many men.

They look worried, and suddenly the roar of the engine
sounds, and I feel movement. And within the distinct darkness of my
mind, I feel myself being rescued, thinking it only a dream.

And, slowly, my eyes shut once more, and everything
around me goes black.

Chapter One

I wake to the sound of beeping.

A caustic, bitter smell fills my nose. I open my eyes
and see mainly white, a color I haven't seen for some time.

Gradually the room comes into view, and I realize I'm in
a hospital bed, my body covered in a hospital gown, my arm tied up in
a drip. I'm alone in the room, but outside I see people walking past,
some casually, some in a hurry, most dressed in scrubs and white
doctor's coats.

I look around the room, and see things that were once
mundane but are now so alien. A clock on the wall, ticking around
with the time.

Time.

It had become such a blurred concept to me. And now,
here I am, back in the real world where everyone lives by it.

I see pictures on the walls. Paintings and artwork.
Things I haven't seen in months. Machines tick and click and hum,
nothing like the clicking and humming of the insects on the island.

I melt into the bed underneath me, which feels almost
too soft now. After months of sleeping on palm leaves and grainy
sand, a soft mattress feels like a cloud of air.

My eyes turn up to the door, where a doctor approaches.
He steps in, smiles bright, and comes toward me.

“
How are you feeling Libby?” he asks, his accent
Australian.

“
OK,” I croak. “How do you know my name?”

It feels so odd speaking to another person. It feels
like I've been absent from the world for years.

“
You told us, do you not remember?”

I shake my head.

“
You've been through a very traumatic experience. How
much do you remember?”

Everything.

“
All of it.”

Quickly, like a sudden bolt of lightning into my brain,
I think of Flint. A rush of panic passes through me, my heart
pounding behind my ribs.

“
Flint....where is he?! Is he alive?”

The doctor comes forward, rests a hand on my hand to
calm me.

“
He's in surgery now. We caught him just before he
went over the edge.”

“
He's going to live?!”

The doctor nods gently.

“
He'll live,” he says.

Waves of emotion pass through me, overtake everything
else in my head. I breathe deep and hard and tears rush from my eyes
as I break down in front of him. He grips my hand more firmly, and I
find myself inexorably leaning toward him and hugging him tight.

He seems slightly taken aback, but grips me in a
comforting way.

“
It's OK, Libby, you're both OK now.”

I hug him and cry for I don't know how long. I purge
myself of all of the pent up emotion inside me, letting it all run
out until I'm dry.

I let go, and see that I've soaked his shoulder with my
tears, and a weak apology escapes my lips.

“
It's quite alright. Do you want some time alone?”

“
No,” I say quickly. “When can I see Flint?”

“
He will be in surgery for a while. The doctors are
working hard on him. I'll come back when I know some more.”

“
And...where am I. How did I get here?”

“
You're in Sydney. You were airlifted here from Fiji a
few hours ago. Some fishermen found you...”

He looks at me reverently, an element of amazement that
I'm even here. That we both survived this long.

“
The authorities have been searching for you both for
months. They found the wreckage of the plane but you two were
missing...”

“
And where were we?”

“
Miles from where the plane went down, about fifty
miles off the north coast of Fiji. You must have drifted there....but
we were hoping you'd be able to fill us in.”

He stops short, and stands up straight.

“
Unfortunately, its not my place to tell you this. A
liaison for the search mission will be with you shortly. Do you feel
up to speaking with him about what happened?”

“
Yes,” I say, nodding slowly.

“
Good. He'll be with you soon. It's quite a story
you've got to tell, I'd imagine?”

He smiles once more, and leaves the room, his question
hanging in my head as I sit once more in silence.

Quite a story...

Not long after he's left, the liaison arrives, wearing a
sympathetic smile and an air of authority.

He's very gentle with his words, used, perhaps, to
dealing with survivors of disasters like me. He coaxes me through
everything, explaining what happened with the accident, how the plane
went down, and where exactly we were found.

It wasn't the storm that sent the plane down, as both
Flint and I had speculated. The bad weather certainly contributed,
but it was a fault in the left engine that caused it to fail and
which, given the adverse weather and heavy turbulence, led to the
pilot losing control of the plane.

From there, the pilot lost his ability to maintain
altitude, and being so far from any potential landing strip, was
forced to make an emergency landing on the ocean. The weather,
however, had created a raging tumult and it was impossible to land
flat.

So the plane crashed, tore apart at the fuselage, and
sucked most of the passengers and crew down. Only Flint and I
escaped, drifting away on the metal raft that ripped away from the
body of the plane.

The bodies were recovered by divers, the sea relatively
shallow where the plane hit, and funerals were held for all but us.
For months they searched, scouring the islands for something, but
could never find us.

And all it really took was a chance passing by a fishing
boat to find us lying there on the beach. Flint's body giving out, my
mind passing away with him. They saved us, took us to Fiji where we
could be airlifted to a suitable hospital to cater to Flint's needs.

He'd been at death's door for a while and, as I 'd
thought, his strength had seen death off. He'd clung on just long
enough for the doctors and nurses in Sydney to save his life.

“
But really,” the liaison concludes, “it was you
who saved his life.”

He wraps things up, and leaves me alone once more, and
tears roll down my cheeks. Tears of relief for being back and relief
that Flint will live. And tears of hope, that what we had on the
island won't now slip away. That our lives won't split us up, drag us
apart and leave me alone in this world once more.

And that night I sleep with more peaceful images in my
head. The smell of the salt air. The sound of the gentle, lapping
water. The feel of the warm sun on my naked skin, of Flint's hand
caressing my body in the safety of our little shack.

And already, I begin to miss the world that had become
our haven, our prison, an island that kept us alive but wouldn't let
us truly live.

A perfect paradise that gave me some perfect moments.
And I wonder if life will ever be the same again.

Chapter Two

When I learn that Flint is out of surgery, and I can see
him, my heart fills with joy and nerves all at the same time.
Already, I can see the presence of the world's press lingering
around, trying to get into the hospital to take pictures of us,
trying to interview the doctors and nurses treating us.

There have been a few official words about the state of
Flint Young, the world famous billionaire in this story that has
gripped the planet.

And then there's me. The unknown girl who got stranded
with a billionaire. The girl who's now as famous as a movie star and
who's story everyone wants to hear.

Yet, I'm not ready to tell it.

Not yet. Not until I see Flint and share some privacy
with him.

“
Be prepared for a lot of media attention,” I'm
told. “You're the girl of the moment. You're as famous as the Queen
of England.”

Fame was never something I wanted, and now it's been
thrust upon me. I've gone from being the most solitary person in the
world, to being one of the most famous, and I know it's going to take
a lot of getting used to.

I walk down the corridor, wearing a fresh outfit that
had been delivered to me, and feeling as nervous as I ever have.
Nervous because I'm scared that seeing Flint now, back in the real
world, will be different.

Was our love merely based on our loneliness. Were we
forced together through necessity?

As I approach Flint's room, I'm stopped by a doctor. He
pulls me up, and speaks to me before I enter.

“
I need to prepare you for what you're going to see.
Mr Young's right lower leg had been damaged beyond repair. If we'd
got to him quickly, we could have set the bone. But, it was too
late...”

“
What do you mean?”

He takes a breath.

“
I'm afraid we had to amputate his lower leg below the
knee.”

A pulse of shock runs through me.

“
There was nothing else we could have done.”

I nod, and tell the doctor thank you for informing me.
And then, steadying my nerve, I step inside the room.

Flint lies in bed, his body covered in sheets. He's
still got his beard, dominating his lower face. I see the shape of
his legs beneath the sheets, the fabric going flat where his right
leg stops at the knee. I step forward, and his eyes lift immediately
to mine, and I see them as bright and as blue as ever.

The widest smile graces his face, and I quicken my pace
toward him.

“
Lib...” he says, and I fall into his arms and feel
the tears running quickly down my cheeks as my eyes blur.

We hug each other more firmly than ever, and I feel his
strong grip returning, his vigor coming back to him.

I pull back, and snake my eyes to his leg.

“
You leg...I'm so sorry, Flint.”

He shakes his head, and runs his fingers through my
hair.

“
No, Lib....I'm alive. That's all that matters. I'm
alive because of you.”

He hugs me again, and kisses me passionately, and all my
fears drift away. We slot back into each other like two people
destined to be together. Two people now inseparable and eternally
bonded through a shared experience.

“
You saved my life, Libby. I'll never be able to thank
you enough.”

“
I didn't do anything. You saved your own life. You
hung on.”

“
I hung on for you.”

He kisses me again, and I pray that I never have to be
apart from him, even for a second.

But still my eyes drift town to his leg again, and my
tears start to flow once more.

“
It's OK, Libby, it's fine. I still have my knee,
that's the main thing. I can get a prosthetic, it will be as good as
new.”

His words bring some solace to me, and I feel as if I'm
mourning the loss of his limb more than he is.

“
It's only a small part of me. The rest is fine.”

He wipes a tear from my compassionate eyes, and turns
the conversation on me.

“
How are you,” he asks.

“
I'm fine. They just have me here for observation...”

“
And are you ready for what's coming?”

He gazes at me questioningly, with eyes that tell me
he's going to be with my every single step of the way.

“
Probably not,” I say, hoping my doubt will keep him
near.

“
I'm used to the public eye, Lib, but you're not.
They're going to want to hear about everything. They're going to try
to get you on chat shows and they'll start looking into your life. In
fact, they will have already done that when they were searching for
us. You've been famous for months now, without even knowing it.”

“
But, I don't want to be famous. I just want to get on
with my life.”