Page 31 of Lost At Sea With A Billionaire

Jonathan swam alongside me.“Is that a complaint?”

“Not even close.”

I spotted something floating in the sky beyond the trees as we dressed and prepared to continue to the traps.

“Jonathan, look!”I pointed to a small white object moving across the distant blue expanse.

He shaded his eyes, squinting.“Is that?—”

“A plane!”We both shouted at once.

We scrambled to the highest point, waving frantically and shouting, though we knew it was too far away to hear us.The plane continued its path, not deviating.

“Damn it,” Jonathan muttered as it disappeared from view.“We need a better signal.Something they can see from a distance.”

For the first time in days, I saw the return of his focused determination—the man who solved problems through sheer force of will.It was familiar and somehow distant, a reminder of the world beyond our island.

“The signal fire,” I said.“We need to make it bigger and more visible.”

He nodded.“And we should have something ready to create smoke—green branches, wet leaves.It will draw attention.”

We abandoned our original plan and returned to camp, our earlier playfulness replaced by a renewed sense of purpose.The plane reminded us that we were lost, not on vacation.

Jonathan spent the rest of the day gathering materials for a more substantial signal, his expression set in concentration.I watched him working, sweat glistening on his bare back as he hauled branches and positioned them for maximum visibility.

“You’re going to work yourself to exhaustion,” I said, bringing him water.

He took the leaf cup from me, drinking deeply.“We can’t miss another chance.We need to be ready.”

I touched his arm.“We will be.But killing yourself won’t help.”

His shoulders slumped slightly.“I know.It’s just—seeing that plane made it real again.We need to get off this island.”

The words stung more than they should have.“Right.”

He caught my tone immediately, turning to face me.“Janet, that’s not?—”

“No, you’re right,” I interrupted.“This isn’t real life.It’s a pause button.”

Jonathan brushed a strand of hair from my face.“That’s not what I meant.These weeks with you have been more real than anything I’ve experienced in years.”

“But?”

“But we can’t live on coconuts and fish forever.”He pulled me against him.“Think of all we could do with actual ingredients.I want to see you in a real kitchen again, creating those dishes you’ve described.I want to take you places, show you things beyond this beach.”

I hadn’t expected that.“You’ve been thinking about...after?”

“Haven’t you?”

I’d deliberately avoided it, afraid of what returning to civilization would mean for us.“I thought maybe this was just island fever for you.Something that would end once we were rescued.”

His expression darkened.“Is that what you think of me?That I’d discard you once we’re back?”

“No,” I said quickly.“But our worlds are so different, Jonathan.You run a pharmaceutical empire.I’m a chef with a failed restaurant and barely enough savings to start over.”

“And?”

“And billionaires don’t date chefs they pulled off reality cooking shows.”

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