Millionaire's Secret Love

Chapter One

Out of all the evenings, Elizabeth had never spent one, standing still like a petrified statue with no choice but to look down the barrel of the gun that was inconveniently pointed at her.

It was past nine in the evening. The hotel corridor still held the heat from the day like a sealed crypt and the gentle ebb of the Caribbean Sea smooth the sugary sand only a few metres nearby.

With her eyes glued to the gun, her heart was racing wildly in her chest as if it would burst through her ribs. Elizabeth was not familiar with guns. She had never been around them for the sheer fear they made her feel. Not that she had the occasion to see many living in England. Well, there was that time her brother, Ross had been doing his police training and she had gone to see him at the firing range, but that was different she thought dismissively.

  “Are you going to open the door?” the raspy voice of George jolted her, and a startled breath left her.

            Flinching, Elizabeth blinked at him a few times. Gripping her purse tightly, she wondered if she could whack him with it and make a run for the beach.

            Thinking this might aggravate him further and she settled for giving him a forced watery smile.

            “I-I lost my keys earlier.”

“Really?” he said, a mocking smile playing on his bow shaped lips. He studied her face for a long moment. “Open the door, Elizabeth.” His voice was low and filled with promise.

Beads of sweat broke out on her upper lips. Masking her fear, she levelled a cool stare at him. “I don’t want to.”

George narrowed his eyes at her. Taking a step closer, he leaned toward her until she felt his breath on her cheek. “Don’t let me do something you will regret.” He smiled down deliberately into her eyes.

Shifting from foot to foot she avoided his gaze, but her eyes went straight to the gun, which had lowered, but only by a fraction. Sidestepping him, she gave him her best cold stare. “Whatever you’re into, I don’t wish to be in any part of it.”

 His eyes narrowed at her until they were tiny slits. “Why are you always so stubborn? Were you born difficult?”

“My mother had thirty-six hours of labour with me, so what do you think?” she rebutted in a rather strained voice.

He shook his head as if he could not understand her reasoning. “You know many women who have a gun pointed at them would be running away and yelling for help right now, but not you. You’re actually trying to start an argument with me,” he said, a flicker of irritation and impatience shining in his eyes. “Open the damned door, do you think I have all night to stand here.” He held the gun higher. “I’m not going to ask again.” This time there was a note of urgency in his voice.

“W-Why do you want to come into my room?”

He rolled his eyes at her.

She had a feeling if she kept resisting, he would eventually leave her alone. Though he pointed the gun at her, she wondered if he would use it. 

Stepping back from her, he pointed to his side. “This is the reason, unless you think I want something else?” His eyes scanned her face and she wondered what he expected to see apart from fear. Which was lessening with every moment he stood there trying to coerce her to open the door.

Following his fingers, a small gasp left her. “You’re injured.”

“Yeah, can you help me?”

She fixed her gaze on his face. “So, you wanted my help, and you waved a gun at me?”

            She saw his mouth twist sarcastically. But she refrained from making comments that would rile him.

Ignoring the weapon in his hand, she skimmed the red splodge of blood on his tuxedo, trying to assess whether he was going to bleed out. From the spread of blood and the small tear in his clothes she could tell the wound was not life threatening.

            Meeting his eyes, she said, “You could easily get that fixed by the person doing first aid in the resort.”

            His mouth compressed into a hard line. “I want you to do it, Elizabeth.”

“Why me?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I don’t even like you.”

            Once the words left her, she felt a churning in her stomach. How could she say that? Was she stupid? He still had a gun in his hand she thought, she should be docile and not upset him, but somehow, she did not want to do it. A year ago, when she left her ex, she had promised herself to be more confident. Maybe this was not the right moment to assert herself, but she could not let George bloody Douglass shove a gun under her nose and just do what he asked.

            George was staring at her with a puzzled frown. When she made no move to help him, he glowered at her.  “Just open the blasted door and don’t make me use this,” he threatened, waving the gun around without aiming at her.

Digging her heels in, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not moving.”

Maybe it was not the most sensible thing to say, but it peeved her.

 “Are you doing this because of what I said about you earlier?” She searched his features for any sign that this was the reason he was now before her.

His thick brows creased into little caterpillars. “What are you talking about?”

“Erm, earlier, at the reception, you heard what I said about you, right?” her words came out in a rush as she tried to maintain her composure.

             .  Elizabeth knew it was a stupid thing to be talking about, but she could not help but try to rationalise why he was injured and carried a weapon with him. He clearly had been in some sort of altercation. Where was the perpetrator? Her eyes shifted to the dimly lit corridor behind him, but it was empty. Where was everyone tonight? Usually, the hotel corridor was a thoroughfare but not tonight when she needed someone to walk past and take her out of this situation. If no one came along she was afraid that she would have to help him.

George was staring at her as if his patience were hanging by a thread.  “I don’t know what you mean,” he denied.

In a split second, she recalled seeing him at the wedding reception of her friend Adrian. She had not seen him for a few years, and it had surprised her he had shown up without a date.

 George had the looks and the body that girl’s lust after. Tall, with eyes that could melt icebergs. His most attractive feature was his hair, pulled back from his chiselled face in a man bun.

Though she could not deny his appeal. She had commented on the fact that he wore his hair long and had implied that this was not how she thought a masculine man should appear. Unfortunately, he had been in earshot and had heard her.

            “Are you still thinking about the way you shredded my masculinity earlier?” he asked. His voice held no note of animosity. “Do you think I’m so petty to worry about a bit of criticism?” he added, his eyes piercing her like a laser.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. Her words were icy and hard. “If you didn’t feel offended, would you have a gun shoved in my face right now.”

He was silent, but she could see that he was thinking about her words.

The gun wavered and he lowered it fully.

The locked muscles in her shoulders relaxed but the swarm of butterflies in her stomach did not still.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he apologised. A sigh left him, and he lowered the weapon. “I didn’t mean to scare you with this.”

            Her bag fell from her hands and they both stared at it.

He was the first to lean down and swipe it from the ground. When he handed it to her, he said, “Can you help me with this, and I will get out of your hair.”

            There were plenty of things going through her mind, but her conscience would not let her just leave him there with blood on his shirt. Though she did not think he had a life-threatening injury she felt obliged to help him.

            “If you want me to help you, put that thing away.”

Immediately, he shoved it in his waistband. “You don’t need to fret, it’s not loaded.”

            She blinked at him. Elizabeth was not sure she should be relieved or angry at his words, he had put her through such a fright and then calmly told her that it was not loaded.

            Glaring at him with resentment she snatched her purse out of his hand. “I honestly don’t know why you scared me like that?”

            “Look, I’m sorry okay.” He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. “I promise if you help me with this, I will leave you alone.”

Though she still felt a little apprehensive, she gave him the once over and considered whether she should believe that he would not hurt her. People did all sorts of things for various reasons could she trust him, she wondered.

He must have seen her indecision because he stepped closer to her. “Lizzie,” he said. His voice is low and intimate. “I won’t hurt you.”

She stepped back and scowled at him.

“Lizzie, you’re my best friend's sister. I will not do anything. I swear on my grandfather's grave.”

There was no need for him to swear she had already decided to help him. But she knew he was sincere when he mentioned his grandfather. Elizabeth knew how close he was to his grandfather. The person he tried to emulate in his life.

            “There’s no need for you to go that far, I will help you,” she muttered, giving him a cool stare.

            There were many things she wanted to do and helping him was not one of them, still it was like helping a wounded animal, she just had to patch him up and let him be on his way. Still, to come back to her hotel room and find him standing there with a gun in his had had disconcerted her. She wondered if Ross knew that George had a gun.

            Curious, she said, “does my brother know you have one of those?”

A small smile played on his bow shaped lips. “What do you think?” he answered.

Elizabeth scoffed. Ross probably did not know, they lived in England where owning guns was not the norm, even here in Jamaica, only the law and criminals carried weapons.

            Her eyes went to his waistband. “How did you manage to get a gun here?” she asked.

            “You really shouldn’t be sticking your pretty brown nose into my business Elizabeth,” he replied. His voice was curt and gave her a chill.

            Thinking it best to help him and get rid of him, before she let fear overwhelm her again, she opened the door. “I will let you in but I’m leaving the door open just in case you decide to try any funny stuff.”

His lips pulled back into a smile. “That’s okay with me,” George said as he brushed too close to her and entered her hotel room. “But then the person who stabbed me may come back, who knows?”

Elizabeth gave his back a hard stare. “I will take my chances,” she said, entering after him and leaving the door wide open. “Plus, the security guards are not too far from here, I am sure they will hear me scream,” she added for good measure.

He threw her a smirk over his shoulder and she ignored the hardened of her stomach muscles.

Tonight, it did not matter if the insects came in droves, she would take those pests over this pest any day she thought as she followed him. In the back of her mind, she wondered what really happened and if he would tell her if she asked. But they had never been that close for him to confide in her and she was not going to let her curiosity get the best of her.