Page 14 of Lost At Sea With A Billionaire

“Clearly.”She gestured to our makeshift camp on a deserted island.

I chuckled.“This wasn’t exactly in my five-year plan.”

“What was?”she asked.“In your five-year plan?”

The question was innocuous enough, but something about how she asked made me pause.Her interest seemed genuine, not the calculated attention I typically received from people hoping to benefit from my wealth or connections.

“Expanding our antibiotic research, primarily,” I said.“Moving into treatments for other resistant infections.Maybe stepping back from the business side to focus on research again.”

“You miss being in the lab,” she observed.

“Yes.”The admission came easily.“Running the company is necessary, but it’s not where my passion lies.”

“Like me and cooking,” she said.“The business side of my restaurant consumed so much energy that I sometimes forgot why I became a chef in the first place.”

“Which was?”

“The pure creation.”Her face brightened as she spoke.“Taking raw ingredients and transforming them into something that brings people joy.”

The passion in her voice resonated deep inside me.How long had it been since I’d spoken with someone who understood that kind of drive?

Night had fallen fully now, the darkness broken only by the small fire we’d built.The flames cast shifting patterns of light across Janet’s face, highlighting the resolve in her eyes.

“We should rest,” I said finally.“Tomorrow will be demanding.”

She nodded, suppressing a yawn.“You’re right.”She hesitated.“About the sleeping arrangements...”

I gestured to the shelter.“It’s big enough for both of us to have space.I’ll stay on my side.”

“Such a gentleman,” she said with a hint of teasing.“And here I thought billionaires were used to getting whatever they wanted.”

“Is that what you think of me?”The question came out more vulnerable than I’d intended.

She studied me for a long moment.“I think you’re more complicated than the wealthy businessman who first interviewed me in that kitchen.”She stood up, brushing sand from her jeans.“Goodnight, Jonathan.”

“Goodnight, Janet.”

As she crawled into our makeshift shelter, I remained by the fire, my thoughts churning.When I first saw Janet on that cooking show, I was captivated by her competence and unwillingness to compromise with the odds of the obstacles.I’d wanted that energy on my yacht, around my business associates.

What I hadn’t anticipated was the woman herself—direct, perceptive, and utterly unimpressed by my wealth or status.She saw through the façade I presented to the world, challenging me at every turn.Not to mention, she was flawlessly gorgeous, with brown eyes that saw straight through me, shoulder-length hair, and a curvy body.I could admit that my mouth watered when she walked into my yacht's kitchen, and I wanted to taste her as much as her food.But I held my primal desires in check for professional poise.

And now here we were, stranded together on an unknown island, completely removed from the power dynamics that would normally define our relationship.There was no crew to maintain professional distance and no business associates watching my every move.

Just us, stripped of pretenses, forced to rely on each other for survival.

It was terrifying and, strangely, exhilarating.

I doused the fire and went to the shelter, carefully staying on my designated side.Janet’s breathing had already deepened into sleep, her face relaxed and vulnerable in the dim light filtering through the palm fronds.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges: the yacht’s precarious position, our limited supplies, and the uncertain prospect of rescue.But for the first time in years, I wasn’t meticulously planning three steps ahead.There was something freeing about being forced into the present moment.

Perhaps Janet was right.I did have control issues.And maybe this island was the universe’s way of forcing me to let go.

Chapter5

Jonathan

One week became seven days of sand in places I never knew existed.Seven days without a proper shower, a real bed, or any contact with the outside world.Seven days of watching my multi-million-dollar yacht sink deeper into the water with each passing tide.

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