The Millionaire's Intriguing Offer

Storm Warning

By the time they left Alice Town, got back on the sailboat and then docked at Jonathon's beach house, there was a spread of food waiting for them that Bailey was sure would serve at least another five or six people. Conch salad - something she'd never tried before - and more familiar dishes like lobster and scallops that she'd tasted but certainly weren't part of her normal fare. And grilled mahi with some kind of pineapple topping. Plus a tempting array of side dishes that had her mouth watering instantly. 

The private chef – Jillian – was a gorgeous long-haired blonde who could easily have been a model, which Bailey thought was just typical. Naturally, his private chef wouldn't be a man, or a matronly grandmother type. But of course it didn't make any difference to Bailey who Jonathon hired as his private chef.

"Did you see the weather report?" Jillian asked, and Jonathon nodded.

"It looks like that storm I was concerned about may be heading back this way," he said, turning to Bailey.

"I just need to tidy up in the kitchen, then I better be on my way just in case," Jillian said.

Bailey looked from one to the other. "Are you concerned about the weather?" She wondered if the small boat moored the dock was Jillian's. "Please, if a storm is headed this way, don't spend time cleaning up the kitchen. I'm sure Jonathon and I can take care of it."

"Go on, Jillian, it's fine," Jonathon said. "I'd rather be sure you got safely back."

"Well," Jillian said, brushing her hands on her apron. "If you're sure . . . just leave everything and I'll put the kitchen back to rights tomorrow."

Jillian headed out, and a minute or so later Bailey heard the sounds of an outboard motor starting.

She looked over at Jonathon. "She'll be okay?"

"Jillian's as good on the water as I am. And there's still plenty of time. But it's better to be safe." He looked at her. "You surprised me."

"What?"

"Your concern. Most people with our backgrounds don't give much thought to whether the staff is going to get home easily." He paused. "And it's a first having a date offer to help clean up the kitchen. And volunteer me to do the same." The corners of his eyes crinkled with humor.

"Well, Jonathon, then I think the women you've been dating must be a bunch of stuck-up assholes."

He burst out laughing. "You know, Bailey, you just might be right."

Jonathon gestured to the spread of food on the table. "So, are you ready to eat?"

"You didn't want to change first?" she asked, thinking about the sun dress she'd packed and Mitsy's admonitions about "dressing" for dinner.

Jonathon gave her that smile again. "Well, if you'd like to change into something more comfortable," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "I'm all for it."

"You wish," she said, and pulled up a chair across from him at the table. The more time she spent with him the less he seemed like Jonathon the player and the more she could see little hints of Jack slipping through. Instead of being pleased, though, it made her feel oddly uneasy. Jonathon the arrogant player she could deal with. Jack - her Jack - eating dinner across the table from her and not even knowing her, not remembering her, was more difficult.

Jillian had already set everything out on the table, so they both started to serve themselves.

Jonathon lifted up the bottle of wine that was already breathing on the table and gestured toward her glass.