The Maverick Millionaire

‘I’m not hurt.’ He dumped the wood on the floor beside her. His old injury was hardly a state secret, but it wasn’t something he mentioned if he could avoid it.

‘I’m a paramedic, Jake. I’ve got eyes. I can see—’

‘Drop it,’ he growled. ‘I told you. I haven’t been injured. Not in the last ten years anyway.’

‘Oh...’ She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Maybe she was attempting a smile. ‘Old war wound, huh?’

He glared at her. ‘First time anyone’s found it funny.’

Her face changed. Was she embarrassed? Not that she was about to apologise. There was an awkward silence as she turned her attention back to the fire and then she must have decided that it was best ignored.

* * *

‘Some rats or mice had shredded the paper for me,’ Ellie said. ‘Good thing, too, because my fingers are still too cold to work properly.’ Her tone was deliberately lighter. Impersonal, even. ‘Don’t think we’ll use the beds, but the blankets might be okay.’

The wood sizzled a little, but the flame was still growing. The glow caught Ellie’s face as she leaned in to blow gently on the fire. Water dripped from her long braid to add to the puddle at her feet. Smoke puffed out and made her cough.

‘There could well be a bird’s nest or two in the chimney, but they should burn away soon. We’ll get the potbelly going, too, if we can, and that should get things toasty in no time.’

Jake had to forgive the dismissal of his old injury as some kind of joke. She didn’t know the truth and, if he wasn’t prepared to enlighten her, it would be unfair to hold a grudge. And he had to admire her. She was capable, this Eleanor Sutton, but that was hardly surprising given what she did for a job. Jake was given the task of feeding larger sticks into the fire as it grew while Ellie limped over to the kitchen to get the stove going. His hands began aching unbearably as heat finally penetrated the frozen layer of skin and, when he looked up, he saw Ellie’s pained expression as she shook her hands.

‘Hurts, doesn’t it?’

‘It’s good. Means there’s some circulation happening and nerves are waking up.’ She nodded in satisfaction at the fire Jake was tending. ‘I’ll see if I can find us some dry clothes. My dad kept a trunk of stuff under the bed and it’s a tin trunk so it should have kept the rats out.’

‘Do you get snakes, too?’

‘No snakes in New Zealand. Have you never been here before?’

‘No.’

‘I guess you were just passing by with the yacht race. Wasn’t there a stop planned in Auckland?’

‘Yeah. I was getting off then. I’m here for a job. That was why I talked Ben into giving me a lift on his yacht.’

‘Ben? That’s your friend who was on the life raft with you?’

‘He’s my brother. Twin brother.’

‘Oh...’

The enormity of having to leave Ben behind and not trying to go back and get him was clearly registering.

‘I...I’m sorry, Jake.’

‘Yeah... Me, too.’

‘It was a good life raft. There’s still hope that he’ll make it.’

Jake found himself staring at Ellie. It felt very odd—his gaze clinging to hers like this. As if he was pleading...

Desperately wanting to believe.

Begging her to prove herself trustworthy?

She was in the business of rescuing people who found themselves in dire situations so she should know what she was talking about.

‘We weren’t the only rescue team out there,’ she told him quietly. ‘There were other choppers. Planes. And there’s other boats. Container ships as well as the coastguard. There’s plenty of daylight left and...’

There was such compassion in her eyes and her body language. The way she was leaning towards him. Holding out one hand. If she’d been close enough, she’d be touching him right now.

He wished she was that close.

‘And there are literally hundreds of islands on this part of the coastline. All it needs is for a current to get him close to land and he’ll be able to find shelter until the worst of the storm is over.’

Maybe it was the compassion he could see that did it. Or the comfort of the reassurance she was offering. Or maybe it was because of that longing that she had been close enough to underpin her words with human touch.

Whatever it was, Jake could pull back. Yes, she was offering him what he wanted more than anything in this moment. And the invitation to believe her was so sincere, but they were all like that, weren’t they? Especially women.

He knew better than to trust.

‘Yeah...right...’ He wrenched his gaze free, turning back towards the fire and using a stick to poke at it. He didn’t want to talk about Ben. He didn’t want to show this stranger how he was really feeling. How afraid he was. Who knew what contacts she might have? What could turn up as a headline on some celebrity website?

* * *

The warmth Ellie had been getting from the stove seemed to have been shut off and the cold in her gut turned into a lead weight.

No wonder they’d been arguing about who got to be rescued first. Or that Jake had said he would have stayed if he’d been given the choice. She didn’t even have a sibling and these men were twin brothers. She could imagine how close they were. As close as she’d dreamed of being with another living soul. Loving—and being loved—enough for one’s own safety to not be the priority.

She would have gone back for Ben if it had been possible, but it hadn’t been. At least she’d brought Jake to safety, but maybe, in the end, he wouldn’t thank her for that. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. He was hunched over in front of the fire, looking very grim as he poked at the burning sticks, sending sparks flying and creating a new cloud of smoke. Fiercely shutting her out.

Was it the smoke in his eyes that made him rub at them with the heel of his hand? Even hunched up, she was aware again of what a big man he was. Intimidatingly big. She knew that trying to offer any further comfort would be unwelcome. She’d probably put her foot in it, too, the way she had when she’d tried to make some kind of joke about his obvious limp.

It had been the way Grandpa had brushed off any concern about his physical wellbeing.

It’s nothing, chicken. Just the old war wound playing up.

But Jake was an American. Had she made a joke about some horrible injury he’d suffered in somewhere like Afghanistan? She’d been too flustered to think of a way to apologise without it seeming insincere. Or prying. There was something about this man that suggested he valued his privacy a lot more than most people.

So, once again, she simply avoided anything personal.

‘I’ll go and see if I can find us those dry clothes.’

* * *

By the time Ellie returned with an armload of clothes from the old tin trunk, the living area of the small house was already feeling a lot warmer.

‘The trousers are pretty horrible, but we’ve scored with a couple of Swanndris.’

Jake looked up from where he was still crouched in front of the fire. He was shivering uncontrollably despite being so close to the heat. ‘S-swan—what?’

‘They’re shirts. I’m wearing one.’ Ellie dumped the pile she was holding onto the sofa, extracting a black-and-red-checked garment to hold out to Jake. ‘New Zealand icon. A hundred percent wool. Farmers have relied on them for decades over here and they’re the best thing for warmth. Even better, these ones are huge. Should fit you a treat.’

Neither her father or grandfather had been small men by any means. The shirt Ellie was wearing came well down over the baggy track pants she’d struggled into in the bedroom, but it was just as well they were so loose because they’d gone right over the sodden boots that had laces she couldn’t manage to undo yet. And maybe it was better to leave them on. At least her ankle was splinted by the heavy leather and padding of her socks.

He took the shirt and nodded. ‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t just stare at it. Put it on. No, hang on...’ Ellie dived back into the pile. ‘Here’s a singlet that can go on first so it’s not itchy.’

Getting changed into dry clothes was easier said than done. Ellie had found it enough of a struggle getting out of her wet clothes in the bedroom and she’d been wearing state-of-the-art gloves to protect her hands up until now. Jake’s hands had been bare ever since he’d been plucked from the life raft and were still so cold there was no way he could manage the zipper of the heavy anorak he was wearing.

He fumbled several times, cursed softly and then stopped trying. Ellie dragged her gaze up from his fingers to his face and, for a long moment, they simply stared at each other.

The fire was crackling with some enthusiasm now. Adding enough light to the dark, stormy afternoon for her to get a good look at this man. He was big, broad shouldered and...and wild looking, with that long hair and the beard. His face was fierce looking anyway, with a nose that commanded attention and accentuated the shadowed eyes that had an almost hawk-like intensity.

The pull of something—an awareness that was deep enough to be disturbing—made Ellie’s mouth go dry. She tore her gaze away from those compelling eyes. They both knew she had no choice here.

‘I’ll help you,’ she said.

Her voice sounded weird so she pressed her lips together and said nothing else as she started to help him undress. The scrape of the metal zip sounded curiously loud. He had layers underneath. A sodden woollen pullover and thermal gear beneath that.

And then there was skin. Rather a lot of skin covering the kind of torso that spoke of a great deal of physical effort.

Ripped. That was the only word for it.

Dark discs of nipples hardened by the cold decorated an almost hairless chest that seemed at odds with the amount of hair Jake favoured on his head and face.

And...dear Lord, there was a tattoo in the strangest place. A line of what looked like Chinese characters ran from his armpit to disappear into the waistband of his jeans.

It was discreet body art and it must have significance, but Ellie wasn’t about to ask. She shouldn’t even be looking. Just as well it got covered up as Jake pulled on the black singlet and then the thick woollen shirt. He managed to pop the button on his jeans but, again, the zipper was beyond the motor skills that had returned to his hands so far.

Ellie had undressed countless patients in her career. She’d cut through and removed clothing and exposed every inch of skin of people without the slightest personal reaction. Why did it have to be now that she was so aware of touching someone in such an intimate area? Why did she feel so uncomfortable she had to swallow hard and actually close her eyes for a heartbeat?

Like remembering her past when it should have been totally obliterated by the adrenaline of being in real danger, maybe this was a sign that she was no longer fit for active service as a paramedic. Something like grief washed through Ellie at the thought and it was easy to turn that into a kind of anger. Impatience, anyway, to get the job over with.

‘I’ll do the zip,’ she snapped. ‘You should be able to manage the rest.’

She tried not to think of what her fingers were brushing. The zipper got stuck halfway down and she had to pull it back up and try again. A warmth that had nothing to do with the fire crept into her cheeks. As soon as she got the zipper down past where it had stuck, she dropped her hands as though the metal was red hot and she turned away as Jake hooked his thumbs into the waistband and started peeling the wet fabric from his skin.

She’d seen enough.

Too much.

* * *

Nobody had undressed Jake Logan without his invitation since he’d been about two years old and had kicked his nanny to demonstrate his desire for independence.

Except for when he’d been in the care of the army medics, of course, and then of the nurses in the military hospital back home. He’d flirted wickedly with those nurses, making a joke of the humiliation of being helpless.

He couldn’t have flirted to save his life when Ellie had been struggling with that zipper. He’d been looking down at her bent head. The rope of black hair was still dripping wet, but the fronds that the wind had whipped free were starting to dry and they were softening the outlines of her face. Or they would have been if it wasn’t set in such grim lines of determination.

She really didn’t want to be touching him, did she? This was an ordeal she was forcing herself to get through because she had no choice.

Like being unrecognised, this was an alien experience for a man almost bored by the way women threw themselves at him. Not a pleasant experience either, but it wasn’t humiliation or even embarrassment that was so overwhelming. He couldn’t begin to identify what it was he was feeling. He just knew that it was powerful enough to be disturbing.

Very disturbing.

The choice of trousers was embarrassing with the only pair he had any hope of fitting being shapeless track pants that didn’t cover his ankles. At least the socks looked long and he could be grateful there were no paparazzi around.

‘What will we do with the wet gear?’

Ellie had taken the lamp down from the hook on the ceiling and was pouring something from a plastic bottle into its base.

‘We’ll hang them over the chairs. They might be dry enough to get back into by the time we get rescued from here.’

‘How long do you reckon that’ll be?’

Ellie had the glass cover off the lamp now. She struck a match and held it to a wick. ‘We had a lot of info coming in about the cyclone while we were in the air. The worst of it won’t hit until early tomorrow, but it should blow through within about twelve hours.’

The flame caught and Ellie eased the glass cover back into place. She fiddled with an attachment to the base, pumping it gently, and suddenly the light increased to a glow that seemed like a spotlight focused on her. As she looked up and caught his gaze, a hint of a smile made her lips curve. ‘It’s going to get worse before it gets better, I’m afraid.’

Jake’s mouth felt suddenly dry.

Even the hint of a smile transformed Ellie’s face. Made it come alive.

She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. He could actually feel something slamming shut in his chest. Or his head maybe.

Don’t go there. Don’t get sucked in. Even if she doesn’t know who you are, it’s not worth the risk.

Remember what happened last time.

But Ellie stretched to hang the lamp from its hook and the unbuttoned sleeves of her oversize shirt fell back to expose slim, olive-brown arms. Long, clever fingers made another adjustment to the base of the lamp.

Jake couldn’t drag his gaze free.

Yeah...it probably was going to get worse before it got better.

But he could deal with it.

He had to.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE KEROSENE LAMP hissed and swayed gently in the draughts that were a soft echo of the fierce storm outside. The glow of light strengthened as day became night and shadows danced in the corners of the room as the light moved—a dark partner to the bright flicker of the flames in the open fireplace.

The room was warm enough for the wet clothing draped over the spindle-back chairs to be steaming gently and one end of the table was covered with a collection of items that had come from the pockets of Ellie’s flight suit, like a bunch of keys, ruined ballpoint pens and an equally wet and useless mobile phone. Most importantly, there was a two-way radio that had been securely enclosed in a waterproof pouch.

Jake had been disappointed that they couldn’t use it to listen and hear updates on the weather, but Ellie was more concerned about whether it was in working order. It didn’t seem to be transmitting.

‘Medic One to base—do you receive?’

A crackle of static and a beeping noise came from the device, but there was no answering voice. Ellie gave up after a few tries.

‘We may be out of range or it could be atmospheric conditions. I’ll turn it on in the morning and we might get communication about our rescue.’

The radio sat on the edge of the table now—a symbol of surviving this ordeal.

Except, for the moment, it didn’t seem to be that much of an ordeal. They were safe and finally warm. And Ellie had discovered a store of tinned food in the bottom of a cupboard.

‘Chilli baked beans, cheesy spaghetti, Irish stew, peas or tomatoes.’ She held up each can to show Jake. ‘As my guest, you get to choose. What do you fancy?’

‘They all sound good. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry in my life.’

‘Hmm...’ Ellie had almost forgotten what it felt like to really smile. ‘That’s not a bad idea. I’ll see if I’ve got a pot that’s big enough.’

The result of mixing the contents of all the chosen cans together was remarkably tasty. Or maybe she was just as hungry as Jake. Whatever the reason, sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, spooning the food from a bowl, Ellie decided that it was probably one of the most memorable meals she would ever eat.

‘There’s more in the pot if you’re still hungry,’ she told Jake.

‘Maybe we should save it for tomorrow.’

‘There’s still more cans. My mother must have stocked up big time on their last trip.’

‘When was that?’

‘Six years ago. I didn’t come on that trip because I was in the middle of my helicopter training.’ Ellie stared into the fire. ‘Who knew it would save my life?’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘Their yacht ran into trouble on the way home. Both my parents drowned.’

‘Oh...I’m sorry.’

Ellie could see Jake put his plate down suddenly, as if his appetite had deserted him. She kicked herself mentally.

‘No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of...’ Her voice trailed into silence. He didn’t want to talk about Ben, did he? She didn’t need to glance sideways at his bent head to remind her of that walled-off private area. It was none of her business, anyway.

But she heard Jake take a deep breath a moment later. And then he shook his head as he got to his feet. He shoved his hair behind his ears.

‘You wouldn’t have a rubber band or a piece of string or something, would you? My hair’s going to drive me nuts if I don’t tie it back.’

Ellie blinked. ‘I can find something.’ She couldn’t help a personal question. ‘Why do you wear it so long if it annoys you?’

‘Not my choice. It’s temporary. You could say it’s a—a work thing.’

‘Ohh...’ Ellie was bemused. ‘What are you—a male model?’

Jake’s breath came out in a snort. ‘Something like that.’

Ellie could well believe it. She’d seen that body. The dark wavy hair that almost brushed his shoulders would probably be wildly exciting for a lot of women, too, but the beard? No...it wouldn’t do it for her.

She almost changed her mind as Jake used his fingers to rake his hair back properly from his face. Even with the beard hiding half his face, she had trouble dragging her gaze away from him.

‘What? Have I got spaghetti on my face or something?’

‘No...you just look...I don’t know...different.’

Different but oddly familiar. Or was that simply a warning signal that something unconscious was recognising the magnetic pull this man seemed to have? Ellie turned away with a decisive enough head movement to make her aware of the heavy weight of her own hair. The loose bits had long since dried, but the braid was still wet.

‘Here. Have this...’ She pulled the elastic band from the end of her braid. ‘I need to get my hair dry and it’ll take all night if I leave it tied up.’

So Jake bound his hair back in a ponytail and Ellie unravelled hers and let it fall over her back with the ends brushing the wooden boards of the floor. Now it was Jake’s turn to stare, apparently. She could feel the intensity of his gaze from where he was sitting on the sofa behind her.

Was it the hissing of the lamp or the crackle of the fire or was there some kind of other current in the air that Ellie could actually feel instead of hear? It had all the intensity of a bright light and the heat of a flame and something warned Ellie not to turn her head.

The current was coming from Jake.

She heard him clear his throat. As though he thought his speech might be hoarse if he didn’t?

‘Must have been tough, losing your parents like that. Have you got any brothers or sisters?’

‘Nope.’

‘Husband? Boyfriend? Significant other?’

‘Nope.’ Ellie felt her hackles rise. It was none of his business. He wasn’t about to let her into personal areas. Why would he think she was willing to share?

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.’ Jake’s voice was flat. ‘I just thought...it’s going to be a long night and it might be kind of nice to get to know each other.’

Did that mean that if she was prepared to share, he might too? That she might even find out the significance of that intriguing tattoo, even?

‘Fair enough.’ But Ellie got to her feet. ‘Let me find us some blankets and pillows first, if they’re useable. And I’ll boil some water. We don’t have milk, but there’s probably a tin of cocoa or something around. We need a drink.’

It was some time before Ellie was satisfied they had all they needed for a while. The fire was well banked up with wood. They both had a blanket and a pillow and, by tacit consent, Jake would have the couch to try and sleep on while Ellie curled up in the armchair. Neither of them wanted to move any further away from the fire.

Exhaustion was taking over now. Her body ached all over and her injured ankle was throbbing badly despite the hastily applied strapping with a damp bandage that she’d found in one of her suit pockets when changing her clothes.

It had been one of the longest days of Ellie’s life and the physical exertion had been draining enough without the added stress of the emotional side of it all. Not only the fear for her own safety but also the grief of knowing that the job was no longer enough to shield her from what she had run from.

Maybe part of it was renewed grief for the family she’d lost. Impossible for that not to be surfacing now that she’d finally come back to a place she’d been avoiding for that very reason.

And maybe that was what made her prepared to talk about it. About things she’d never had anyone to talk to about.

‘I haven’t been here since my parents died,’ she told Jake. ‘It was bad enough when we all came here after Grandpa died and I didn’t want to come back knowing that I had no family left.’ She sighed softly. ‘I didn’t have a boat anyway. I wasn’t sure I wanted anything more to do with the sea.’

‘Hard to get away from, I would think, when you live on an island.’

‘Well—it’s a big island, but you’re right. The home I grew up in is in Devonport in Auckland and it’s right on the beach. I still live there. There’s salt water in my family’s blood, I reckon. That’s why Grandpa took the job as the lighthouse-keeper on Half Moon Island.’

‘The moon... Yeah, I heard you say something about that on the radio.’

‘I recognised it from the air. I spent so much time there when I was little that it’s like part of the family. That’s a picture of it over there, on the wall.’

‘I thought most lighthouses were automatic now.’

‘They are. And Half Moon was automated long before I was born, but Grandpa couldn’t bear to leave it behind. That’s why he bought this patch of land and virtually lived here from when my dad was a teenager. I sailed up with them every school holiday until he died when I was seventeen. And then Mum, Dad and I still came at least a couple of times a year. Having Christmas here when all the pohutukawa trees are in full bloom is quite something. And we could still go over to Half Moon and explore. It’s got an amazing amount of birdlife. It should be a national reserve.’

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