Page 48 of The Billionaire's Baby
"So why do you look like you’re going to faint?"
"Just… It’s too sudden."
"What were you expecting, anyway?" I frown, as she sways. "You okay?"
"Yes." She shakes her head.
"Is that a ’no’ or a ’yes’?"
"Don’t you have to focus on taking shelter from the storm?" She folds her arms around her waist, then stares past me at the sea ahead. The waves seem calm, nothing out of the ordinary, but I am not fooled. I know how quickly the weather can change. I glance at the weather data, then consult the map.
"Well," she insists, "what are you going to do?"
"Why don’t you leave that to me, huh?"
"What, so you can play the big macho male who can shelter the woman—"
"His woman."
"I’m not yours."
"And yet, you may be carrying my child."
"Don’t go getting all possessive on me now. We had a deal remember? I get custody of the child, if there is a child at all, and you get visitation rights."
"For the next 30 days you are mine."
"I don’t recall agreeing to anything of the sort."
"Are you denying that you willingly acquiesced to pose as my wife, for the duration of this time?"
She throws up her hand, "Yes, but that doesn’t mean—"
That’s when the first wave hits the yacht.
17
Karina
One second, the water is serene. The next, a swell hits the boat. The vessel pitches to the side and I scream. My feet seem to go out from under me and I stagger. My heart races and my pulse pounds. The ground comes up to meet me; the next instant, I am pulled up and against his hard chest. His scent, bergamot laced with the salt of the sea, fills my nostrils. His heart thuds against my cheek, or more likely, it's mine, since he's wearing a vest.
"You okay?" His voice rumbles and the vibrations surround me, cocoon me. I turn my nose into the material of the life jacket across his chest. I stay there for a beat, another. I don’t want to let go. I wrap my arms around his waist, and he blows out a breath. He pulls me into his side, then behind him. "Hold on." His voice sounds from somewhere above me, "I need to steer us out of the way of the rough weather and toward our hurricane hole."
I turn my cheek into his back, and I am not ashamed to say that I follow his instructions, for once. I lock my arms around him.
"Hurricane hole?" I clear my throat, "What’s that?"
"We need to find port, but not just any port will do. It needs to have high cliffs or mountains surrounding it.
"To shelter from the storm?"
"That’s right." He turns the boat a steep right. "And I know just the place."
I close my eyes, not because I am tired, not even because I am afraid—okay, maybe I am, a tiny bit apprehensive. Okay, a little more than that. I am a city girl. I’ve lived in crowded metropolises all my life, and I enjoy the rush, the traffic, the ability to drive my car wherever I want. It means I am in control. I can steer my way. I can see where I am going, get my bearings. But this… Surrounded by waves that seem to get bigger with every passing second, this…pitching of the boat as it climbs up yet another wave, only to slide down the other side, then scale the next swell… My stomach churns and my breath catches in my throat.I am not afraid. I am not.I squeeze my eyes tightly.
He squeezes my hand, the one which has a death-grip on his life jacket, as we speak.
"Not long now," he reassures me.
