Page 47 of The Billionaire's Teacher

“I do. But you really should take more care with how you phrase things.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Couple hours, I guess. Once I got you inside, I took a nap. I’ve only been awake a little while myself. All the electronics got soaked between the rain and the waves, so they’re no good. And since this place has clearly been deserted for a while, it doesn’t run to functioning clocks. Toss in the hurricane making everything dark and your guess is as good as mine.”

I winced at her tone. Gone was the teasing from a moment ago. Now? She was angry. Rightfully so. I was kind of ticked myself. But I also didn’t see the point in taking it out on the person I was stuck with for however long we were going to be stranded here. “What can I do now?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing to do. I collected some of the rain, so we have water. We have granola bars and freeze-dried food. If we need a fire, the living room has a fireplace that looks like it should be okay to use. But it was also floor-to-ceiling glass on both of the long walls, so it’s wet and windy in there. Not sure the fire is worth it.”

I wasn’t cold. For all that there was a hurricane, it was warm and humid still. “Is it okay if I change clothes?”

“Yeah. Of course. I thought about trying to strip off your wet things, but I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate that.”

I had about twelve inappropriate responses zip through my brain at her words. Thankfully, I was able to keep them from popping out. My head injury must not be too serious. “I’m mostly dry at this point. But the sand.”

“I get it. I changed, too.” She nudged my duffels toward me then stood. “I’ll go wander the house again and see if I can find anything else useful. There’s a toilet, so we can fill a bucket for flushing.”

“I guess if you’re going to get shipwrecked, it’s nice to do it on an island that has indoor plumbing.”

Sunshine chuckled. “Be nicer if the house was weather proof, but yeah. Small bonuses.”

I watched her stride from the room. With a groan that I did my best to manfully muffle, I pushed to my feet. I wavered for a moment before finding my balance. My ankle and leg were sore but didn’t seem to be out of commission. That was good. I’d already been a burden.

My face flamed at the thought of Sunny having to drag me to shelter. So masculine to need rescue.

I blew out a breath. I couldn’t change it now. But I could do everything in my power to make sure I carried my weight from here on out.

The problem, of course, was that I had no idea how to survive on an island. I’d never been a scout. My dad was not a camper or outdoor survival kind of guy. I’d had to be shown how to change a tire by my girlfriend in high school.

The General had tried, but by that point, I was over it.

I tugged my shirt over my head, grunting when my ribs protested. Sand showered down and I leaned forward to brush it from my hair as best as I could. I twisted, eyeing my side. An abrasion ran down from just below my armpit to my waist. Little droplets of blood seeped out here and there.

I looked around but didn’t see anything that would work for a bandage. Or even a wipe. I glanced at the shirt in my hand and shrugged before pressing it to the area gently. Even still, I winced. What was it from? Rolling me into the boat, maybe? Or when I fell?

There was no way to know.

Sunshine probably had a first aid kit in one of the emergency bags. I peeled the shirt away and sighed at the speckled dots of blood on it. My side looked better though. So maybe it didn’t need any sort of dressing.

I squatted and unzipped one of my duffels. After digging around, I found a black T-shirt and another pair of shorts. They were damp. Ish. But still better than my current clothes. I pulled on the shirt, then crossed to the doorway Sunny had disappeared through and looked into the next room.

She wasn’t there.

Okay. I shucked off my shorts and, after a moment of thought dug into the duffel for a clean pair of underwear as well. I used the old clothes to brush away sand, then dressed quickly in the clean clothes.

I would’ve killed for a hot shower.

We had water purely because of the storm raging outside, so that was off the table. Maybe—and it was a big maybe—there was a possibility of a hot bath. But just the thought of collecting enough water and figuring out how to heat it up was exhausting.

“Sunshine?” I picked my way across the floor of the room that had probably been a closet when someone lived in this place. A good-sized walk-in closet, but still a closet. I stepped through the door and the next room confirmed my suspicion. This was definitely a bedroom. One whole wall was missing, and shards of glass were sprinkled on the floor near the opening.

My jaw dropped as I looked out at the rain hammering down at a sharp angle and the wind lashing the trees so they bent at angles that surely should have cracked the trunks in two.

The sound was incredible. No wonder she hadn’t heard when I called.

There was a door to the left. That had to lead to a hallway, didn’t it? I crossed the room, noting that the condition of the wood floors wasn’t as bad as it might have been. A good sanding and sealing and they’d probably be fine. Maybe one or two planks would need replacing.

Lots of glass, obviously, would have to be put back in.

In the hall, I couldn’t stop a smile as I looked around. The architecture leaned heavily midcentury. Glass had once formed the other side of the extra-wide hallway. Some had survived, but not all. These openings faced the incoming rain, so the floor was pooling with water as the storm raged outside.

“Sunshine?” I pitched my voice louder.

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