Marooned with a Millionaire by Kristi Gold Page B

inventory of insults aimed at hervery stubborn host. She paused for a moment to consider her clothing situation. She had no swimsuit, only a bra and panties. Her bra was still hanging in the bathroom. She could go retrieve it, or she could go topless. Who would see her anyway? The captain of the ship, but only if he decided to seek her out, and she doubted he would. Even if he did, he’d already seen just about everything.
    Lizzie stretched out on her belly wearing only her panties, her cheek resting on her folded arms. The sun beat down on her back as her heart beat a crazy rhythm in her chest when she recalled their interlude. Jack had wanted her—that much she knew—a least from a physical standpoint. He’d said she was tempting. Apparently not tempting enough to entice him into a little extracurricular activity. Chances were, he’d probably had plenty of women in his bed. Women who were more experienced, more sophisticated, more beautiful.
    Lizzie wasn’t really any of those things, nor had that bothered her before. She’d been happy just being herself, and she still was. If Jack didn’t appreciate her qualities, too bad. After they were safely back on land, she would leave him behind to start over, make plans, make a good life with her child.
    Who could ask for more?
    Lizzie could. Oh yes, she could. She couldn’t deny that having a real father for her baby—a wonderful father like her own—was nagging at her. She couldn’t deny that having the love and respect of a good man was, too. Even though it was silly to consider that Jack might be that man, she refused to giveup on him even if he’d given up on himself. If she couldn’t gain his complete attention, then perhaps she could learn more about him, learn what made him so sad, aid in bringing him back to the land of the living. It was definitely worth a try.
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    If Jack could harness the energy below his belt to power the boat, they could return to port in record time. Several times he’d glanced out the windows of the interior pilothouse at Lizzie who was lying half-naked within his view, to his libido’s detriment. She had no idea he was watching her, didn’t have a clue what she was doing to him at that moment. She was driving him nuts with her questions, driving him to distraction with her sensuality. Worse, she was threatening to make him let down his guard.
    Five more seconds on the sofa and he would have known every inch of Lizzie’s knockout body. If he hadn’t had the presence of mind to remember she was pregnant, right now he would probably have his hands all over her and his mind on anything but their predicament.
    The sensual visions kicked his body back to life and caused him to release a harsh groan. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need her. Hell, he didn’t need anything except a return to his normal life. He did need to make sure that she was safe while in his care. But only safe, and that didn’t include sex.
    Regardless, he couldn’t seem to stop imagining what it would be like to make love to her. Would all that passion for living she retained manifest itself during lovemaking? Probably, and a very dangerousprospect. He’d been serious when he’d told her that he didn’t want any complications. Lizzie could be one giant complication. She already was. Not only did he want her, he liked her. He liked her smile, her wit, her easy manner. And man, she had eyes that could stop him dead in his tracks. Eyes that damn well seemed to see through him. Everything he should avoid in a woman. But he couldn’t avoid her.
    He also couldn’t keep focused on anything but the vision she presented outside the tinted window as she lay stretched out before him—the curve of her back, the dip of her spine, the rise of her buttocks highlighted in great detail by the sun’s rays. At least she was on her stomach, keeping her fantastic breasts from