Claim Me Captain! I'm Addicted to You!
Chapter 27: Island (1)

Chapter 27: Island (1)

Georgia’s eyes widened in shock the moment she realized she was staring straight at Nick’s firmly toned ass, but before her brain could even process the scene, her attention whipped back to the movement in the bush.

"You—!" Nick growled, yanking up his pants and swatting away her hand, which still awkwardly clutched the waistband.

"Don’t touch me! Seriously, do not touch me again! You’re a walking disaster!" he barked, clearly more humiliated than angry. Without giving her a chance to respond, he marched straight toward the rustling bush, his temper outweighing whatever danger might be lurking inside.

"Nick, wait—!" Georgia called, but he didn’t even glance back.

Fuming, Nick shoved the thick leaves aside, ready to face a monster, only to freeze as a sluggish green-brown shape crawled out from beneath the foliage... and waddled slowly toward the ocean.

Nick blinked. "A turtle? You made me flash you and panic over a freaking turtle?!"

He turned toward Georgia, absolutely fuming. "You jumped me and yanked my pants down... for that?!"

Georgia’s lips curled into a sheepish pout. "Well, I thought it was something else! And you were scared too, don’t deny it."

Nick threw his arms up in frustration. "Only because your panic is contagious! I should’ve let the turtle eat you!"

"There’s no such thing as a man-eating turtle, Captain Drama!" Georgia shot back.

Nick rolled his eyes so hard they practically echoed. Muttering under his breath, he stormed back to the liferaft. He snatched up the canned goods, opened both with aggressive efficiency, and began eating like it was the only way to keep himself from strangling her.

Georgia stayed back for a moment, watching the turtle vanish into the waves with a smirk on her lips and her heart still pounding, not from fear anymore, but from the lingering heat in Nick’s voice... and the accidental peek she couldn’t quite forget.

"Nice ass, by the way," she muttered under her breath before following him to the raft with a smirk on her face that she was trying hard to suppress.

Nick didn’t spare her a glance; he just kept eating, jaw tense, eyes locked on his food as though it might offer him more peace than she ever could.

Georgia quietly sat down and picked up the other canned good he had opened for her. She ate in silence, her mind still racing with everything that had happened, everything that could still go wrong.

"Finish eating and get some sleep," Nick said flatly. "I’ll keep watch. If I spot a ship, I’ll fire the hand flare."

Georgia’s eyes snapped up. "Wait—hand flare? You have one?"

"Two," Nick replied curtly. "And a smoke flare. Every liferaft on my ship is equipped with them."

"No!" she suddenly blurted out, causing Nick to pause mid-bite.

His brow creased as he slowly turned his head toward her. "Excuse me?"

"I mean... I want to be rescued," Georgia stammered, "but... just not tonight. Not if it’s Raymond who finds us. Your crew probably already reported us missing—and if they know I’m with you, Raymond will make sure he’s the first to reach us. I just... I need to think. I need more time."

Nick exhaled sharply, his face twitching with disbelief, before he face-palmed hard and dragged both hands down his face.

"So let me get this straight. You want to be rescued—but only if it’s not by your ex-fiancé or the legal authorities currently searching for us?"

Georgia nodded cautiously, hesitantly, as if the answer made perfect sense.

Nick snapped.

"Who the hell do you think you are to be this picky?! We’re stranded. On a random goddamn island. In the middle of nowhere! And now, you’re dictating terms for how you want to be rescued?!" he bellowed, tossing the half-empty can away in frustration.

"You know what? I’m too exhausted to keep up with your logic-defying bullshit. Sleep, don’t sleep—I don’t care. I’m hoping I’ll wake up in my damn cabin and realize this is just a very vivid nightmare."

Fuming, he stormed into the liferaft and flopped down inside.

With that, Nick turned his back to her, shut his eyes, and tried to bury his rage in sleep—while Georgia sat outside under the stars, clutching the can in her hands, both shaken and strangely warmed by how furious he was... over her.

Hours later...

The soft but strange swaying of the liferaft jolted Nick awake. His instincts flared to life, was it a wave? An animal? A storm starting again?

His eyes adjusted to the moonlight as he blinked rapidly. That’s when he saw her, Georgia, curled beside him inside the raft, trembling in her sleep.

"Georgia?" he muttered, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

The moment his palm met her skin, he froze. She was burning up. Way too hot.

"Shit," he hissed.

He snapped upright and flipped on the small LED light attached to the canopy. Its dim glow revealed Georgia’s flushed face, damp with sweat, and her lips parted in shallow, uneven breaths. She was burning with fever, no doubt from the exposure to the bad weather, exhaustion, and maybe even drinking barely enough water all day.

Nick didn’t waste a second. He yanked open the emergency pouch sewn into the raft’s wall, broke the seal on the first aid kit, and rifled through it. Gauze. Antiseptic. Bandages. Ah—paracetamol tablets.

"Please be enough..." he mumbled, grabbing the blister pack.

He turned to the bag Georgia had smuggled off the ship and fished out the bottle of water, unscrewing it with shaking fingers.

Then he gently shook her shoulder.

"Georgia. Georgia, wake up. Come on, spoiled brat. Open your eyes."

Her lashes fluttered, and she stirred with a whimper.

"W-What...?"

"You’ve got a fever. You need to take this," he said, pressing a tablet into her hand and holding the water to her lips. "Drink. Now."

Still dazed, Georgia obeyed. Her hand trembled as she placed the tablet in her mouth, and Nick helped her tilt the bottle until she swallowed it down.

"That’s it. Good girl," Nick whispered, more to calm himself than her.

She looked at him, confused and glassy-eyed. "Nick... I’m sorry... I’m too much..." she mumbled.

"Don’t talk," he muttered, brushing strands of damp hair off her forehead. "You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, alright? Not on my watch."

He gently laid her back down, propping her head with a rolled shirt, and sat beside her, wiping her forehead with a small towel from the kit.

Nick stared at her, lost in deep thought. ’I need to do something. She can’t hide here forever. She cannot fool me with her brave facade because deep inside, I can see how scared she is of Nancy and Raymond.’