Carrying Her Millionaire's Baby

by Sophie Pembroke

  * * *

  As if she wasn’t feeling guilty enough already, now she had boat theft to add to her weighty conscience.

  Ash had commandeered a small yacht with surprisingly little trouble—one that had been hired, she had a feeling, by David’s boss—which made Zoey wonder if he’d actually done this before. Funny, if she’d been asked this morning she’d have said that she knew everything there was to know about Ash Carmichael. After all, Grace had talked about him incessantly since the moment they met, so it was hard not to. And that was even before Grace died, and suddenly all they had was each other.

  A tragedy like that brought people together. Made them close. Helped them know and understand each other in a way they never would have done, otherwise.

  But somehow she still hadn’t known that he’d worked in a hotel kitchen, or that he knew how to hotwire a boat, or whatever it was he’d done to steal this one.

  It was a nice boat, Zoey decided, standing by the rail looking out at the rapidly receding island hotel where she wouldn’t be getting married tomorrow. Stretching out from the main island itself was the long wooden bridge out over the water that led to twenty or so individual hotel suites on stilts, looking as if they almost floated on the waves.

  It was an incredible place, Zoey had to admit. Under other circumstances, she’d be sorry to leave.

  As it was...

  She sighed and turned away, back to where Ash was steering the boat. And frowning. A lot.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, drawing closer. ‘Having second thoughts?’

  He flashed her a smile. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be asking you that.’

  Zoey considered, taking a reading on her internal feelings. A lot of guilt, as usual—and, really, who had a ‘usual’ for a situation like this?—but no regrets. No second thoughts.

  She might regret letting her relationship with David reach this point, but not walking away. Her whole body sang with the rightness of that decision.

  But that didn’t explain Ash’s frown.

  ‘I’m absolutely fine. What’s up with you?’

  ‘Not me,’ Ash said shortly. ‘The weather.’

  Zoey looked up and saw the sky ahead was a different colour to the sky behind. And, from Ash’s expression, it wasn’t just the usual gradients of colour of sunset in paradise.

  ‘A storm?’ she asked.

  He gave a short nod. ‘A squall, at least. Basically, out of the frying pan...’

  ‘Into the dangerous weather systems.’ Hadn’t someone at the hotel said something about incoming weather that morning? Yes! They’d been talking about possibly having to bring the ceremony in from the beach into the hotel itself. David had been furious. She’d been so caught up in her own doubts and concerns she hadn’t listened. She’d tuned out the way she always did when David was rude to someone he considered less important than himself. Which was basically everyone except his father. And her own parents, actually, which was probably why they liked him.

  For someone who could be so sweet when it was just the two of them, he didn’t go over so well with other people. Something else she should have considered sooner.

  Maybe she was just an incredibly lousy judge of character. That would explain a lot.

  But personal revelations didn’t change the past. Or the squall in their future.

  ‘I knew it was coming,’ Zoey berated herself. ‘I had a conversation with the wedding planner about it this morning—well, David did. But I was there. I should have remembered.’

  ‘You’ve had a lot on your mind,’ Ash said drily, but Zoey could feel the wind lifting her hair, and saw the way Ash gripped the boat’s controls.

  It was coming.

  Looking over the side, Zoey could see the waves rising higher, crashing against the side of their boat. How on earth was she going to explain to David that she’d not only run out on their wedding but also destroyed his boss’s boat in the process?

  Maybe this was divine retribution. Fate taking its revenge for her messing up other people’s lives and plans one time too many; taking control of her future for her, since she couldn’t ever seem to stick to any of the decisions she made herself.

  Maybe she deserved it.

  ‘I should have checked the forecast before bringing you out here.’ Ash’s knuckles were white, Zoey realised, and his face pinched. Strain, fear or both? ‘You should get down in the cabin. There’s not much space down there, but it’s a lot safer than up on deck.’

  Or maybe fate was a load of bunk, and the future was hers to control.

  ‘I’ll stay here with you.’ Zoey grabbed a hold of the railing beside Ash, planting her feet firmly on the deck. ‘I mean, I have no idea how to drive a boat, so you’ll have to tell me what to do so I can actually help you. But it’s my fault we’re out here. I’m not leaving you up here alone.’

  Ash looked at her, his gaze steady despite whatever fear he was feeling. Zoey gazed back just as evenly, so he’d know she meant it.

  Then the wind kicked up again and a wave crashed into their side, making them both stumble a little.

  ‘Okay,’ Ash said, his eyes back on the water, his hands firm on the controls. ‘We’re not far from the island. Let’s see if we can get there before this storm gets any worse.’

  ‘We’ll get there,’ Zoey said with a confidence she wasn’t sure she truly felt.

  Fate could go hang.

  * * *

  What kind of idiot took a random boat out in these waters at night without checking the forecast? Ash berated himself mentally as he clung to his tenuous control of the boat. The waves crashed against the sides and Ash tried desperately to focus on the task in hand and not get distracted by images of his late wife giving him hell in the afterlife for getting her best friend killed.

  With Grace gone, he was responsible for Zoey. It wasn’t as if her parents had ever been able to let their own issues go long enough to care about her, and since the odds of her actually finding true love and settling down—at least long enough to get through a wedding reception—seemed to be getting slimmer, he was it. He was all the support she had left—and he was doing a lousy job of it so far.

  The sky was growing blacker, the kind of doomed darkness that foretold of disaster to come. Maybe he should just have let her marry David after all. Sure, he’d probably have been throwing her a divorce party within six months, but at least she’d be alive to celebrate it, instead of dead at the bottom of the ocean.

  He glanced to his left. Zoey was holding on tight to the rail beside him, obviously determined to stand by him—as much as he wished she’d just get to safety below. The waves weren’t too big yet, but they were going to get bigger...

  Then, suddenly, he got a glimpse of what he was looking for. Refuge. Safety. A fully stocked drinks cabinet, he hoped.

  ‘There!’ He risked raising one hand from the controls to point. ‘Do you see that?’

  Zoey leant forward over the rail, squinting into the distance and almost giving Ash a heart attack at the same time. ‘Is that the island?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Ash braced himself and started to turn the boat. He’d studied the online maps and satellite footage well enough to know that the new acquisition was the nearest island to the one he’d recommended to David for the wedding. It had to be the right one. Hopefully. ‘And if all else fails, it’s an island.’ Dry land had to be better than water right now.

  As they grew closer, Ash could make out the outline of a wooden villa at the water’s edge, the traditional stilts meaning it was half over the ocean and half on land. The roof looked to be the usual thatch, and he recognised the terrace layout from the photos of the recently acquired property he’d been looking at a few days before. This was the place they’d been searching for.

  Best of all, there was even a mooring point for the boat. Ash just hoped it would hold o
vernight.

  Once the wedding was over, Zoey was going to want to leave again, after all. Well, eventually, anyway.

  Getting the boat moored securely was a battle in itself as the threatened rain began to fall.

  ‘Run up to the house,’ he yelled at Zoey, his throat sore with the effort of getting her to hear over the storm. But Zoey shook her head, her wet hair whipping around her as she held on tight to one of the stern lines as he crossed them to tie up.

  Stubborn. Just like Grace. No wonder they’d been such good friends.

  Finally, finally, the yacht was as secure as he could make it. He’d just have to hope that was as secure as it needed to be. It was too late to do any more. The wind that had been steadily rising had reached a screaming pitch now, whistling and screeching through the trees and across the water. Looking back out to sea, Ash couldn’t tell where the rain stopped and the waves started.

  ‘Come on.’ Grabbing Zoey’s hand, he dragged her up from the small jetty towards the front door of the villa, already dreaming of what they’d find inside as he fumbled for the hidden key and tried to recall the security code he’d saved on his phone.

  This place was perfect. Ash had read all the specs on the flight out. The villa was the newest jewel in his father’s property crown, freshly refurbished to Arthur Carmichael’s exacting standards. If a person had to take refuge from a storm and a potentially furious bridegroom, this was the spot.

  He flung open the doors.

  Zoey crashed into his back as he stopped, still on the threshold, and stared in.

  Okay. So this place would be perfect. Once the renovation was actually finished.

  ‘Can we get inside already?’ Zoey asked. Ash could feel her shaking, shivering with cold as she pressed against him.

  The storm was on them. There was no going back.

  ‘You might wish you’d stayed and married David,’ he muttered as he moved aside to let her in.

  Zoey pushed past him, then stopped in the middle of what Ash assumed would be the lounge. Eventually.

  ‘So, when you said that this place had just been refurbished...’ She turned around slowly, taking in the room. Ash winced. Even in the darkness of the storm raging outside, he knew this didn’t look good.

  ‘I might have been a little optimistic.’

  He tried to see the villa through her eyes. The half-built kitchen area off to one side. The random pieces of wood stacked up against the far wall. The windows still covered in tape but no blinds. The complete lack of furniture.

  Zoey sighed. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope for a fully stocked drinks cabinet, then?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  THERE WAS OFFICIALLY nothing luxury about the luxury villa Ash had promised her. Even without the storm raging outside, this would have been a disaster. As it was...

  Well. They’d just have to make the best of it. After all, it had to be better than going back to the hotel and admitting to David that she’d tried to run out on their wedding but been driven back by bad weather and incomplete renovations. Besides, if she had to get on another boat again this lifetime it might be too soon for her seasick stomach.

  Of course, she would have to. But not yet.

  They had to make it through the night first.

  ‘Maybe the builders have left some useful stuff lying around,’ Zoey said. Although, looking around her, mostly they seemed to have left splintering wood and a lot of rubbish. ‘Like blankets or tea or something. I’ll go look.’

  ‘And I’ll go check the boat.’ Ash didn’t sound particularly excited at the prospect. ‘Probably a better chance of finding things we need there anyway. Maybe even some dry clothes.’

  Zoey glanced reflexively down at her beautiful strapless pink dress—now dark and sodden with water, streaked with sandy mud and clinging unflatteringly to her body. She imagined her hair must look even worse.

  Good job that Ash had seen her in some seriously unflattering positions before, really—especially at university. At least he wouldn’t be surprised. Or too horrified, hopefully.

  ‘Wish me luck.’ Ash flashed her a bright grin before pushing open the wide glass door and stepping out into the storm again.

  ‘Good luck!’ she called after him, but she doubted he could hear her over the wind. She tried to watch him go, but he was swallowed up by the darkness of the storm in no time.

  Suddenly, Zoey felt very alone.

  Well, that was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? To escape from the pressure and crush of all the people at the hotel, waiting for her to walk down the aisle in another white dress that didn’t feel quite right, to marry a man who used to give her butterflies in her stomach but now gave her moths. Still unsettling but darker and somehow not right.

  Oh, God, she’d done it again.

  Her knees shaky, Zoey sank to the ground, her soaked pink dress pooling around her and leaving a puddle on the dusty, splinter-laden floor. Her hands twisted in the wet material as she tried to stop the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.

  Why was she crying, for heaven’s sake? She hadn’t been left at the altar, or the night before at least. She hadn’t been abandoned, hadn’t suddenly lost the future she’d imagined for her and David.

  She’d chosen to run. Again.

  She’d made her choice and now she’d live with it.

  It was just... How could she have let this happen again?

  The first time, with Kevin, it had been so hard. But she’d known it was the right decision. He told her he loved her, that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he’d die if he couldn’t have her...but he’d wanted her to give up her dreams of university, of a future career, to stay with him and see if he could make it as a rock star.

  It had taken everything she had to hand him back his ring and walk away, but she’d never worried that she’d made a mistake. And whenever she’d missed him, she’d had Grace there to remind her why she’d done it.

  The second time had been more complicated. She’d met Harry at university, not long after Grace and Ash became Grace-and-Ash. Maybe she’d been feeling left out, or maybe she’d just wanted something of the happiness they’d found, because it had been easy to fall into an echo of their relationship herself, with Harry. Except Harry wasn’t Ash and she wasn’t Grace. They weren’t the perfect fit that their friends were, and they’d argued about almost everything.

  They’d got engaged six months after they graduated, and Zoey had made it as far as addressing the envelopes for the invitations before she stopped and asked herself what on earth she was doing.

  Grace and Ash had been waiting for her with a bottle of wine and a home-cooked meal at their new flat when she showed up, still gripping one of those damn invitations, and told them she didn’t think she could go through with it.

  Disentangling their lives together had been hard, and Harry hadn’t understood what the problem was anyway, why she’d changed her mind so suddenly. But just one evening with Ash and Grace, seeing them clearly and realising everything they were that she and Harry weren’t, had made up Zoey’s mind for good.

  She’d seen what marrying the wrong person could do to a couple—she’d lived with it growing up and, since her parents were apparently violently opposed to divorce, continued to witness it every time she went home. She hadn’t understood, for years, what had kept them together, but she thought she did now. It was fear. Fear of scandal and gossip. Fear of losing the very comfortable lifestyle they had from the business they’d built up together—nothing on the scale of Ash’s family business, of course, but enough that they didn’t want to lose it in a bitter divorce battle. And, given how bitter their marriage had become, Zoey had no doubt that if either one of them ever caved and left, it would be horrific.

  She didn’t want that for herself, wouldn’t let herself settle for a marriage held together by fear of how much worse t
hings might be apart.

  She wanted what Grace and Ash had, or it wasn’t worth the bother of the fancy dress and the name changing.

  She’d thought she’d found it over and over since then, with men who said they worshipped her, or men who promised to respect her, or even men who claimed they wanted them each to live their own lives, just together. But, in the end, something always changed. There was always a moment when she looked at them and realised that, behind their words, they all wanted the same thing: to lock her in to a life that would no longer be her own.

  Every time, it came down to the same problem. Marriage meant sharing a life, letting someone else have equal say in her decisions. It meant giving up control—and most of all it meant risk.

  Risking everything on the promise that this guy would be different. That this man meant it when he said that he just wanted her to be happy—rather than actually meaning that he wanted her to be happy as long as it fitted in with what he wanted.

  She’d seen how awful marriage could be if you made the wrong choice, and she wouldn’t do that. If she ever finally made it to the altar and said ‘I do’ it would be because she was certain. That the risk was gone, because there were no doubts left.

  Which seemed like a pretty impossible bar to reach.

  Zoey sighed. Maybe she should just give up on the whole idea of marriage. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had the thought before. But every time she did...she remembered Grace’s radiant happiness on her wedding day, and the way Ash had looked like the proudest, most joyous man in the world, and she knew it was possible.

  True happiness, true love, was possible—and Zoey wanted it.

  It just seemed she was going to have to keep looking to find it.

  Slowly, she forced herself back to her feet, brushing the sawdust from her hands on her soaked dress before wiping away her tears. True love would have to take a back seat for a while. Right now she had bigger problems.

  First things first. Survive the night. Then go back after the wedding was scheduled to happen and explain everything to David. Given the lengths he’d gone to in order to make sure she was there for the wedding, he presumably wouldn’t be entirely surprised by her absence. In fact, he’d already know she was gone by now. Still, it wasn’t a conversation she was looking forward to.