The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 29: I won’t hurt you, Jean

Chapter 29: I won’t hurt you, Jean

After a moment, Jean dropped beside him, both of them staring out at the makeshift pile of materials.

"You know," Logan said after a beat, "we’re not doing half bad."

Jean gave a soft huff. "We’re alive. That’s something to be thankful of."

Their eyes met briefly. There was something fragile hanging between them, an unspoken truce sealed not by trust, but necessity.

Jean stood up again. "Let’s keep working. Night’s coming."

Logan watched her walk away, limping slightly, determined as ever. And for the first time since they’d ended up on this island, he didn’t feel like this was a punishment.

Maybe surviving together wouldn’t be so bad after all.

_____________________________

Jean rubbed her hands together, glancing at the twigs and dried leaves they’d gathered. "We need to make a fire. We won’t survive the night without warmth."

Logan knelt beside the pile. "No flint, no lighter, how?"

She shot him a look. "Thanks for the reminder, Kingsley. Do you have a genius plan or just commentary?"

He smirked, pulling out a couple of stones. "Relax, Adams. I paid attention during survival training."

She blinked. "You had survival training?"

"I run a billion-dollar company, Jean. I prepare for everything, including being stranded with difficult women." Logan winked at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Charming."

He started striking the stones. Sparks flew, but the leaves didn’t catch. Jean sighed and moved closer. "You’re doing it wrong. Give me that."

He reluctantly passed the stones to her. Jean angled her body to shield the nest of leaves from the wind and struck... once, twice. A faint glow. Another spark. A wisp of smoke began curling up.

Logan watched, eyes narrowing in impressed silence as the ember grew. She leaned in, blew gently, coaxing it to life.

The flame finally burst into being.

Jean leaned back, triumphant and flushed, her hair wild from the wind and effort. "There. Fire."

Logan stared at her. "Remind me never to piss you off with access to flames."

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips twitched. "You’d be toast, Kingsley."

They sat by the fire, the tension briefly replaced by a strange, quiet calm. For the first time since arriving on the island, the heat between them wasn’t just from the sun.

_____________________________

Logan shifted beside the fire they’d built, rubbing his fingers together as he stared at Jean. She was fussing with some leaves again, too focused for his liking.

"Adams."

She didn’t look up. "What now?"

He leaned back on his elbows. "That phone you mentioned earlier... You still have it?"

Jean stiffened, just for a heartbeat. She hesitated, then slowly stood and turned toward him.

"I had it," she said. Her voice was tight, clipped.

Logan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It was tucked inside my body shaper," she admitted. "I thought it was the safest place during the boat ride. When the waves pulled me under, I didn’t think... The pressure must’ve cracked something. The seal broke. I tried to turn it on while you were gone on the other side of the island, but..." She pulled the phone out from her pouch and handed it to him.

Logan took it. The screen was pitch black. He pressed the power button... nothing. It was cold, damp to the touch, and slightly warped on one side.

"Fried," he muttered. "You were carrying it the whole time?"

She gave a small, bitter laugh. "Close to my skin, yeah. Thought it’d be safer there." Her gaze hardened. "Turns out I was wrong."

He tossed the phone onto the sand, rubbing his face. "So that was our only shot."

Jean crossed her arms. "It was a long shot anyway. Even if it worked, who knows if we’d get a signal out here."

"Still. Would’ve been nice to have a damn map."

Jean looked at him, quiet for a second. Then, softer: "Yeah. I know."

They sat in silence, the fire crackling between them.

As the fire crackled and shadows stretched long under the fading sunlight, the warmth it provided did little to ease the awkward silence that settled between them.

Jean wrapped her arms around herself, glancing at the sand where they’d gathered leaves and broken branches for bedding. "It’s not exactly a five-star hotel."

Logan chuckled, settling beside the fire. "You get used to it. Besides, I’ve slept in worse places."

She looked at him skeptically. "You? Mr. Luxury?"

He gave a half-smile. "I wasn’t born rich, Adams."

That shut her up for a moment.

She cleared her throat. "Anyway. About the sleeping arrangement."

Logan raised a brow. "You’re not going to make me sleep in the ocean, are you?"

"Don’t tempt me," she muttered, then added, "I’m not sharing space. You sleep there..." she pointed to a spot a few feet away, "and I’ll sleep here. At least an arm’s distance, like I said."

"Got it. No cuddling," he said dryly.

Jean narrowed her eyes. "I’m serious, Kingsley."

"I know," he said, lying back on the rough bed of leaves. "You’ve made it very clear that I’m enemy number one."

She hesitated. Then, softly, "I just don’t trust easily."

His gaze flicked toward her, unreadable in the firelight. "I know."

The flames popped, filling the silence. She shifted, lying on her side with her back to him, arms folded under her head.

"I’m not going to hurt you, Jean," he said after a beat.

Jean didn’t respond.

But she didn’t argue either.

That was enough, for now.

_____________________________

The sun peeked over the horizon, brushing the sky with soft strokes of orange and gold.

Jean stirred first, her body aching but warm, still wrapped in the large leaf Logan had placed over her. She blinked up at the sky and groaned. "Still alive," she muttered. "Unfortunately."

From the other side of their makeshift shelter, Logan’s voice cut through the silence, rough and amused. "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

She turned her head slightly and scowled at him. "Don’t call me that."

He stretched lazily, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. "You know, for someone who thinks I’m the devil, you sure didn’t throw away my leaf blanket."

"I was cold, not stupid," she snapped, sitting up and adjusting her hair. "And you weren’t doing anything useful with it anyway."

Logan chuckled. "Still, I’ll take that as a thank you."

Jean rolled her eyes. "You can take it and choke on it."

"Tempting," he muttered under his breath, smirking.

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