The Millionaire's Intriguing Offer

Stranded

Bailey gasped and took a step back. "Oh my god, what happened?"

"I think we just got our answer on whether the storm is going to turn this way," Jonathon said, reaching out a hand to steady her. He thought at first that she was just startled but then realized she was trembling.

"Hey, it's ok."

"I just don't like to be in the dark," Bailey said.

Jonathon took one look at her terrified face and just folded her into his arms.

"Don't worry," he said soothingly, "the backup generator will kick in soon."

He felt her shudder.

"Thank heavens," she said, and shut her eyes tightly.

When another bolt of lightning lit up the sky he felt her body tense.

"Come on," Jonathon said. "There's no point in looking out the windows." And no way to avoid them in the first floor room that was all French doors and tall windows looking out toward the sea.

When she didn't answer he just scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs.

Jonathon sat her on the bed and went over to draw the blinds. This room was the largest and had the best view of the water. It was also the only bedroom that had blackout curtains. He wasn't sure if it was the storm or just the darkness, but something had terrified her. Closing the curtains didn't make the room any brighter, of course, but it least it shut out the storm.

He used the light from his phone to open the narrow cabinet in the bathroom and retrieve several fat candles, setting them on the tables on either side of the bed and lighting them, bringing a soft glow to the room and enough light, he hoped, to make the darkness less daunting for Bailey.

"That's better," she said, her voice calm but her fists clenching and unclenching the comforter at the edge of the bed where she was sitting. "Sorry I freaked out a little."

More than a little, Jonathon thought, and wondered what had happened in her life that made the otherwise confident Bailey suddenly so afraid.

"Plenty of people don't like the dark," he said, and she smiled shakily.

"It's silly," she said, looking away.

Jonathon put a hand on her shoulder, and was relieved to see she was no longer trembling.

"I need to go see what's going on with that generator."

"Can you just . . . stay here a few minutes?"

"Sure. Lie down and try to relax."

"Easy for you to say." But she laid back on the bed on top of the comforter, moving over to make room for him to lie down beside her.

Jonathon stretched out next to Bailey, sliding his arm under her neck and pulling her closer. She was breathing in a slow deliberate way, her eyes closed.

"What are you doing?"

"Yoga breathing. It helps when I have a panic attack."

"You have them often?"

"No." She opened her eyes then, turning her head to look at him. "Only when all the lights go out."

"So it's not the storm, it's the darkness?"

"Yeah."

"I had a nanny once," Jonathon recalled, "who didn't believe in nightlights." He stared up at the ceiling, "She also refused to check under my bed for monsters." He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. "Just wondering if something like that happened to you."