Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (12 page)

Another heavy jolt hits, and I watch in terror as
Benjy's body is launched to the side, clattering against the window.
His body falls limp, and sags into his chair, and I see the thick
trail of blood, dark against the glass.

I call out to him, but my voice is consumed by the
ragging sounds around me. The clamor of the engine, the howling of
the fierce wind, the shrieks and cries and screams of the men and
woman on board the flight.

The plane lurches once more, and again my body is flung
to the side. I'm thrown across the aisle, to the seat where Benjy
lies slumped, and my head knocks hard into the arm rest.

My head spins, my vision blurring. And I look one more
time at my friend, his eyes open and staring, blood dripping down his
cheek, and know I'm going to die.

And then it all goes black.

Chapter
One

I wake to the sound of gentle, lapping water. The sound
of clicking insects, and chirping birds.

A warmth engulfs me, the air humid and stifling and
sticky. But I'm in the shade, undercover from the sun, lying down on
something soft and malleable beneath me.

Sand.

I feel the grain between my fingers, soft and warm, and
struggle to open my eyes. They crack open, and bright shards of light
cut in at me from beyond the shade, the sun outside as bright as I've
ever seen in.

Slowly, surely, the world comes into view, and I see the
ocean ahead, the gentle waves riding against the shore in their
endless motion.

My head hurts, a dull ache inside it, and I rack my
brain for where I am, for what happened. I lift my hand, and feel a
bandage wrapped around my forehead. It's sticky on one side, and when
I drop my fingers I see blood.

Panic rushes through me, and I sit up and dart my eyes
around, my head still spinning, my eyesight slightly blurred and
foggy.

“
Hello?”

My voice crackles as I try to speak, broken by thirst
and fear and lack of use. My lips feel sore and dry, my tongue
swollen as I creep out from under the canopy of leaves and look
around.

I see a beach, long and wild and untouched by the hand
of man. It stretches far into the distance to my left and right, with
high hills, covered in foliage, climbing behind.

“
Hello!” I call again, my voice trying to work. But
it only comes out as a strangled moan.

Where am I! What happened!

I send my eyes around once more and see something
bobbing in the sea against the shore, caught in a grouping of rocks a
little out into the surf. I pace forward, my legs shaky, and see what
looks like a window pane surrounded by metal...

And then it hits me.

The plane...the crash.

I see it again. Benjy's head cracking against the
window, blood dripping down the glass and oozing out of the side of
his bashed-in head. I see his eyes, empty, vacant, lifeless, staring
at nothing.

I feel the rush of the wind, the shrieks and cries of
the passengers, the rumble of the engines as they struggle to keep us
airborne.

And then, the last thing I remember, banging my head
against the arm rest. And the world going blank.

I lift my hand to my head again, feel the bandage where
I hit my head, sticky and warm with blood.

“
Hello!” I call again, my voice growing through
sheer fear.

Did everyone die in the crash? How did I get here?
And where the hell am I?!

Panic continues to consume me as I stagger down the
beach, calling out for someone, anyone, to help me. I look out over
the sea, the blue expanse stretching for miles into the distance, no
sign of life anywhere.

I turn, looking beyond the beach at the jungles on the
hillside, caught between the sea and the thick verdant tangle of
trees and jagged rocks.

It's overwhelming, my head beginning to pulse harder as
I turn and twist in the sand. I grow dizzy, the world spinning,
everything colliding inside me and overtaking my conscious mind.

The outsides of my eyesight turns to a blur, a black
cloud storming in from all sides, devouring my sight, turning a
switch in my head. I feel my body go weak, my legs beginning to
crumple, and I collapse into the soft, warm sand.

And as my sight fades again, and the world turns to a
blur, I only see the shape of a shadow running up the beach toward
me, fading as my eyes go dark.

…

“
Libby, Libby, can you hear me.”

I feel something cool against my head, a rag, drenched
with water. It presses against my forehead, the cold liquid dripping
down over the blood stained bandage.

“
Libby...Libby...”

My eyes flicker again, my lips chafed, and I feel water
being poured into my mouth, small drips at a time, wetting my lips
and tongue and the back of my parched throat.

I'm back in the shade, under a canopy of large palm
leaves, the sun still bright beyond and the air still hot and humid.

“
Libby...”

I hear the voice in my head, but don't recognize it. It
must be someone from the plane. Someone must have survived.

I turn my eyes to the source of the voice, and strain as
my vision clears again. Blue eyes come into focus first, staring,
intense. The skin around them is tanned, dark hair framing the top of
his face, a jaw peppered with dusty stubble.

And then I recognize him, and the voice - that Southern
drawl - links together with the vision of the billionaire I've seen
so many times on the news, but never even got to meet on the plane.

Flint Young stares down at me, a desperation in his face
as he dabs my head with the rag and continues to drop cool water into
my mouth.

“
Can you hear me Libby?”

His voice grows even clearer, more forceful as he sees
my eyes opening. I nod, weakly, and the croak of my voice comes out.

“
What's...what's going on.”

“
You've been in an accident. Our plane went down.”

He speaks with clarity, and suddenly his voice catches.

“
We're the only two survivors, Libby. Do you
understand?”

I nod again, still unable to take it all in.

Is this real? Am I still in a strange dream...a
strange nightmare?

Flint helps to prop me up against the back of a tree,
and my head pounds harder. I grimace, and he douses me in cool water
again from a plastic water bottle that he must have salvaged.

“
You have a gash on the side of your head. It's not
serious. The pain will pass.”

His voice has returned to its calm state. There's no
panic in it at all.

“
But where are we??”

“
Somewhere in the South Pacific. I can't be sure of
the location. But we'll be found, don't worry, Libby.”

His voice is reassuring, helps to settle my heart just a
little bit.

“
How long was I out?”

“
More than a day. I brought you here, bandaged your
head with the first aid kit that washed ashore. It's not much more
than a scratch. Nothing permanent.”

He holds his palm to my forehead like a caring mother
testing your temperature, and smiles at me.

“
You have a slight fever. You need to rest.”

I swallow hard, my throat still bone dry, and shake my
head.

“
I can't rest...not until we're saved. How do you know
we'll be rescued?”

His eyes flash, and I see a tiny bit of doubt in them.

“
Because they'll know where the plane went down, and
will be scouring the area for us now. It's only a matter of time.
Now, you really have to rest. I'm going to gather some more water
from the jungle.”

He gently lays me down again, and forms a cushion out of
folded palm leaves. He places it under my head, and asks me once more
if I'm OK.

I nod, but can't help a tear of fear and anguish at the
loss of Benjy and so many good people from falling down my cheek. He
wipes it away with his thumb, before kissing my cheek with the
lightest of affection.

“
I'll be back soon, I promise. Now sleep. You'll feel
much better tomorrow.”

He leaves, and I lie there trying to catch everything up
in my head. Trying to believe that it's all real. That I'm stuck here
on a desert island in the South Pacific with a man I don't know, not
knowing if or when we'll be rescued.

And despite his reassuring words, I can't help but be
unnerved by that look of doubt in his eye, and exactly what he told
me. Because he said I'd been out for more than a day, and clearly no
one had found us yet.

And if they haven't found us yet, they may never do
so...

With that thought digging deep in my head, my eyes close
as the sun starts to set, and I fall into the most troubled sleep of
my life.

Chapter
Two

My eyes click open with a start, like a ventriloquist
dummy, snapping wide and bright in the darkness.

My head lingers with broken images and terrible dreams.
The sight of Benjy's dead eyes. The feel of the rushing wind as the
plane plummeted toward the sea. The flashing lights and calls of
terror among the passengers.

I can feel my heart racing, galloping behind my ribs,
and feel a cold sweat running along my forehead. The ache in my brain
has dulled to a light throb, and the air has grown cooler around me,
the temperature dropping with the coming of night.

I look around at the small nest under the palm trees,
and see no sight of Flint. Ahead, the sea sparkles with the lights
from above, a million stars reflecting their celestial glow on the
endless body of water.

It's peaceful, so calming and beautiful, but all of it
is contrasted with the horrible visions in my head. The terrible
sights and sounds that echo back there.

I creep out onto the sand, and see a shadow sitting down
the beach to the left. He sits motionless, his elbows on his knees,
just staring out at the silent sea. He's still wearing his suit pants
and shirt, only now they're ragged and torn and stained with blood
and grime.

Stepping forward, I walk along the sand toward him until
I can see the light reflecting off his blue eyes, shining and wet
with moisture.

“
Flint?”

He half jumps in the sand, my presence clearly
unexpected, and turns his eyes to me.

“
Libby...” He wipes his eyes briefly, blinking a
couple of times until they're dry. “What are you doing up?”

“
Can't sleep,” I say. “Nightmares.”

He nods lightly, probably sharing the same problem.

“
How's your head?”

I move forward and sit in the sand near to him.

“
It's feeling better. The ache has gone down.”

He reaches over and feels my forehead like before.

“
You're definitely cooler. The night air is helping.”

We sit together for a while, looking out over the ocean,
two souls lost to nature, completely at its mercy. I wonder what the
time is, try to work it out by the position of the moon.

I wonder whether they're out there now, searching for us
in their boats and planes. Whether they've already passed by the
island and seen nothing to stop for.

In the distance, I notice the smallest light shining on
the horizon, moving almost imperceptibly across the ocean.

In my stupidity and desperation I point at it and stand,
my head rushing.

“
A boat. It's a boat!”

Flint stays where he is.

“
It's been passing for a while now. Going the other
way. Probably a cargo ship if we can see it from here.”

His voice has no enthusiasm, laden down with the weight
of reality. The ship will never come near. It will never see us.

“
Give it time, Libby. They'll come, you'll see.”

It was only earlier today that he told me that. That he
assured me of that. But already I can sense the doubt creeping in,
its tendrils reaching forward and suffocating his hope.

We sit there for a while until I feel the pang of sleep
rising inside me once more. And I pass out right there on the beach,
lying on my side, needing to be close to him, to have that human
contact so far from civilization.

And in my hazy dreams and nightmares, I feel myself
lift, my body becoming weightless, as I'm moved back up the beach
away from the encroaching surf.

When I wake a few hours later, the sun rising on the
horizon, I find myself back under the treeline, enclosed under a
covering of palm leaves that offer protection from the low, rising
sun.

I get up, my head feeling better, the ache almost
completely gone, and find Flint at the widest point of the beach,
several hundred feet from our little base camp. As I approach I see
him disappearing into the jungle and coming back out with sticks and
bits of foliage.