The Billionaire's Longshot: Betting on You Series: Book Three (13 page)

“Thanks, but that was luck. The next event might not go as smoothly. You were a huge part of this success. Are you planning on doing them all with me?”

Not even
one
more, never mind all.
“I didn’t do anything. Trust me, this was all you.”

She shrugged her shoulders in disbelief.

“So, what would make you feel successful?” He knew what it meant to him, but he couldn’t even begin to guess what success meant to her.

“I want to go to college and get my degree so I can be taken seriously.”

He hadn’t known she didn’t have a degree until she mentioned it. But telling her so wasn’t going to change how she felt. “Why don’t you go?”

Laughing, she said, “And here lies the difference. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. I have to work. How do you expect me to go to college on top of the job I have? Besides that, how do I pay for it?”

“I’ll pay for it.” The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about what he was saying. For a man who didn’t do commitment, that was a big one.

He anticipated her wrapping her arms around his neck, thanking him. But that wasn’t the response he received. Instead, she pulled away from him, looking very angry.
What did I say now?

“Do you think I am simply some woman you can buy sexual favors from?” She was huffing in anger. “Why don’t you fix your family issues and forget about mine?”

Family issues?
God knows he had plenty, but when did this turn to him? He couldn’t recall even mentioning any issues; he intentionally avoided them. He was simply offering . . . only to pay for her education. Any other woman would have graciously accepted his money and said thank you.
Nope, not Jill.
She was damn near impossible to figure out. Maybe if he rephrased it she would see it was an innocent offer only. Nothing more. “That is not what I meant. I only—”

She stood up and said, “Don’t. I don’t need or want your money. I can,” in a firmer tone she continued, “and will, do this on my own. You’ll see. You will all see.”

With that, he watched as she stomped below, grabbing a few granola bars on the way. He wanted to avoid answering any questions about him, but this wasn’t how he pictured it ending.
Looks like another night on the couch.

‡

R
oss didn’t follow
her below; he felt she needed to cool off, and he needed to think. No better place for that than lying on the deck under the stars. Peace and solitude. Perfect place to clear his head and try to understand why Jill affected him as she did. She was amazing—a sweetness that was pure, a firecracker when she needed to be, unafraid to challenge him, and could stand her own ground. He had thought once he’d had her he would have gotten whatever it was out of his system. The opposite happened though. Somehow she’d slipped deeper within him. He needed to put some distance between them. Maybe then things would go back to normal.
What was normal, though?

It was decided; tomorrow he would do as she asked in the first place and head back to port. Things would be clearer there. He knew he would still see her, but the day-in, day-out was leading him down a path he wasn’t capable of going down. “Ross, I want to know more about you, and what makes you tick,” she’d said. “Isn’t that what relationships are built on?” The sweet expression on her face as she had looked up at him made it impossible to say no. And in the end, she hadn’t gotten anything at all. He knew all about the importance of foundations from building boats. They took time developing the design, the foundation, to create the beauty that sails effortlessly on the sea.
Am I capable of, or even want, that level of intimacy and commitment?
Thoughts of his childhood flooded his mind, and the answer was revealed.
No, I’m not capable of, nor do I want, commitment.

Sleep hadn’t come easy and was far from restful. The sudden rocking of the boat, and a wave spraying him, interrupted what little sleep he’d managed. Jostled fully awake, Ross realized immediately there was a storm brewing. He had let himself get so damn distracted that he hadn’t noticed the weather changes around him. Too late to avoid it, there was only one thing left to do:
Get her off this boat now.
He couldn’t let anything happen to her. His heart was racing out of control, something he hadn’t experienced before. This wasn’t the first storm he’d been in, but this was different. He was an experienced sailor; she wasn’t. His foolishness had put her at risk, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to her. He knew she stayed because he hadn’t given her a choice, however he was fairly certain she trusted him, whether or not he had earned it. He knew he’d let her down. Grabbing a life jacket, he raced for the cabin and banged on the door. He didn’t want her to see the panic he was fighting to control.

“Jill, get up,”
he shouted from the door. The boat swayed, and he steadied himself.

She was still angry with him but his expression made it clear this was not the time. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Ross threw a life jacket to her. “Put this on. Do not take it off, understood?” he commanded.

She did as she was told. The boat was rocking uncontrollably, and she fell twice trying to follow him back. “What’s going on?”

“A storm is developing. A big one. We are already getting what looks like six-foot waves, and the wind is picking up. I need you to radio the Coast Guard.” Ross opened a cupboard and removed some type of radio and placed it on the counter. He also pulled out her cell phone and handed it to her. “Normally I keep the marine radio on at all times.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want any distractions.” Shaking his head he continued, “If I had, I would have received the storm warning from the Coast Guard. A mistake on my part.”

Major mistake.
They were in trouble now, real trouble, and it could have been avoided if they had been honest with each other from the beginning. If she wasn’t so scared she’d call him out on this. All she could do now was obey his instructions and hope they survived this to fight about it later.

Ross handed her a paper. “I need you to call in a Mayday. Give these coordinates. Tell them I am going to head due east. Understood?”

Mayday. Oh God, this is really bad. Are we sinking?
Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Ross, I don’t—”

“Jill, just do exactly as I said. Press this button when you talk.” His voice was harsh as he barked orders and then headed to the deck.

He can’t be leaving me alone at a time like this, can he?
“Where are you going?”

“I need to try to get us out of this. Whatever you do, don’t come up on deck or open this door. When it’s time, I will come get you. Do you hear me? Don’t open the door.”

Jill wanted him to stay, hold her, comfort her, tell her everything was going to be all right, and not to worry. But the expression on his face told the story loud and clear. She had known it was bad, but his look said it was about to get worse. Filled with fear, she nodded as she took the radio mic, pressed the button, and started reading out as he directed. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Freedom. Do you read me?” His note said to continue providing all the information even if they did not respond. And not to give up. “Repeat. Mayday from Freedom. We need help. Does anyone hear me? We need help.”

She continued transmitting the same message over and over. After a few minutes, which seemed like a lifetime in a crisis, she finally received a response. “Freedom, this is the US Coast Guard. What are your coordinates?”

She took the paper Ross had given her, and read the details. “Please send help. He is out there all by himself, and the boat is rocking badly.”

“Are you taking on water?”

She looked around briefly. “I don’t see any, but I’m not sure.”

“How many people onboard?”

“Two. Just Ross . . . Ross Whitman and me, Jill Aragao.”

“We are sending help. Put your life jacket on and stay in the cabin by the radio. We will contact you again if we need more information.”

“But Ross is out there by himself. What can I do?”

“Miss, unless you’re an experienced sailor, the best thing you can do is stay in the cabin.”

She’d never felt so useless. She could hear the waves crashing against the boat with more force, causing her to stumble and fall to the floor. Pulling herself upright, she made her way to the couch and waited. Jill’s hands trembled with worry.
Why couldn’t Ross come down here with me where it is safe?
God, don’t let anything happen to him.
She was filled with regret that their last, real conversation was a fight. Neither of them had time to apologize. Not that she felt she had said anything wrong, but she wished he was safe beside her. For all she knew the sail could have hit him, knocking him unconscious, or worse, the waves could’ve washed him overboard. He could be . . .
Don’t you dare think it.
Her eyes shut tight, yet the tears were streaming down her face.
Ross is an excellent sailor. He’s okay.

More than thirty minutes had passed when she heard the radio. “US Coast Guard calling Freedom, do you read me?”

Grabbing the mic she responded, “I’m here. This is Freedom.”

“ETA five minutes.”

She could do this, five more minutes and Ross would come down and get her and together they would be taken to safety. Grabbing her bag with her wallet in it, she put it over her shoulder and waited. It wasn’t long before she heard what sounded like a chopper hovering over them.
They’re here.

Jill headed to the stairs and was about to open the door when she remembered Ross’s instructions:
Do not come up until I come and get you.
It had to be safe with the Coast Guard there. She paused with her hand on the latch. His expression when he was leaving was one she didn’t want to cross. She decided to sit on the stairs and wait.

Thankfully she didn’t need to wait long. The door opened, but it wasn’t Ross. It was a man dressed in an orange wetsuit with a white helmet. “Miss, come with me. I’ll get you off the boat.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Once on deck she saw the sails were down; Ross was still at the helm, struggling to hold it steady. He wasn’t winning the battle. Above them hovered a large white and orange helicopter. “Ross, come on, they are taking us off.”

He didn’t move. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. She pulled away from her rescuer for a moment, tried to make her way closer to him, and shouted, “Ross, they’re here.” It was a ridiculous thing to say; there was no way he missed the chopper overhead that was the size of the boat.

He gripped the wheel, holding it steady. “They’re here for you. I’m not leaving.”

There was no way she heard that correctly.

“Miss, we have to go now,” the man said, pulling her arm gently.

“Ross, let’s go,” she insisted and reached a hand out to him. He never even looked at it.

He responded, “This boat is everything to me. I’m not leaving her out here.”

He’s staying? Because of a boat?
“That’s crazy. It’s just a stupid boat. You can buy another one.” The wind whipped and a large wave rocked the boat, sending her crashing to the deck.

Even in pouring rains she saw his jaw twitch at her comment.
I’m not trying to piss you off, I only want to wake your dumb ass up.

“Miss, you need to decide now if you are coming because we cannot stay here any longer. The winds are getting too strong.”

She turned to him, then to Ross, who only said one word: “Go.”

Jill realized no matter what she said or did he wasn’t leaving unless she was willing to knock him over the head and drag him off the boat.
Tempting.
If she didn’t leave now, she might be lost at sea with him. Her eyes welled in tears as she followed the man to a lift that had been sent down. They were tied together and slowly hoisted in the air. Holding onto him she screamed over the noise, “You can’t just leave him there.”

He responded, “We can’t force him to come.”

Once inside the helicopter, the door slid shut. She looked out the window and saw Ross standing while getting slammed by another large wave. Jill pressed her hand against the window, her heart breaking, not knowing if she would ever see him again. The chopper turned and headed back to the mainland. As the boat disappeared in the distance the realization of what just transpired hit her.
Damn you for choosing a boat over me.
Now blinded by the flood of tears, she hid her face in her hands.
God, please let him make it back safely.

‡