Page 25 of Lost At Sea With A Billionaire

“Is that what you did with your pharmaceutical work?Work with natural processes instead of against them?”

“That’s the idea.”He released my hand, but the warmth of his touch lingered.“The best medicines enhance what the body already wants to do.”

These teaching moments became our favorite parts of the routine as days passed.I showed him how to prepare the bitter roots we’d found, soaking, grinding, and seasoning them until they were not just edible but actually pleasant.He taught me to weave stronger baskets using a technique that distributed weight more evenly.

“Your fingers are too tense,” he observed one afternoon as I struggled with the basket weaving.“It’s like...cooking, actually.You can’t force the ingredients to do what you want.”

I relaxed my grip, letting the palm fronds guide themselves into position.“Better?”

“Much better.”His hand covered mine, adjusting my grip.“See how it flows now?”

The simple contact charged my heart rate, but I forced myself to focus on the weaving pattern.“You’re right.It’s like kneading dough.”

“Everything has a rhythm,” he agreed.“You just have to find it.”

At night,we talked—really talked—in a way I suspected neither of us had with anyone in a long time.Under the canopy of stars, with only the fire and each other for company, we shared childhood memories, professional disappointments, dreams that had been realized, and those still waiting.

“I never wanted to run the company,” he admitted one night with his head in my lap as I ran my fingers over the waves in his fade.“The business side of it, I mean.That was supposed to be temporary.”

“What did you want?”

“To be in the lab, creating, testing, and solving problems.”He smiled up at me.“Not unlike what you do in a kitchen.”

“We’re not so different after all.”

His hand reached up to touch my cheek.“No, we’re not.”

The physical tension between us continued to build, but neither of us rushed it.There was something precious about the slow exploration—stolen kisses while gathering food, hands lingering during joint tasks, bodies gradually learning each other through casual touches that weren’t casual at all.It was courtship of another kind, in a faraway land where just he and I existed.This was the thing made of fairytales.The more we remained here, the more I wanted to stay, because the idea of going back to our realities caused a rift in my soul.

Chapter8

Janet

Three weeks into our time on the island, I suggested we explore the western side, which we hadn’t thoroughly investigated.

“There might be better shelter options,” I said over breakfast.“Or different food sources.”

Jonathan nodded.“We should pack some supplies.It might take all day.”

We prepared for the journey, filling water containers and packing what food we could spare.The morning was clear and bright as we set off, following the coastline around the curve of the island.

The terrain grew rougher as we progressed, with larger rocks and denser vegetation.Jonathan led the way, occasionally reaching back to help me over challenging sections.His hand in mine felt natural now, a connection I’d grown to rely on.

“Look at this,” he said suddenly, stopping to examine a plant with dark green leaves.“Isn’t this similar to what you showed me?”

I knelt beside him.“Good eye.It’s the same family, but the leaves are broader.Might have a different flavor.”

“Should we gather some?”

“Definitely.”I pulled out a small pouch I’d fashioned from salvaged fabric.“We can test it with tonight’s dinner.”

We continued on, marking our path with small rock piles so we could find our way back.The air grew more humid as we moved inland, and the sound of water became louder.

“Do you hear that?”I asked, pausing to listen.

Jonathan nodded.“Sounds like a waterfall.”

We pushed through a particularly dense section of foliage, and suddenly, the vegetation opened up to reveal a breathtaking sight.A waterfall cascaded down a rocky cliff face into a clear pool below, surrounded by lush greenery and vibrant flowers.

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