Chase silently lit a row of candles for Ashley Grant in his mind.
'He'd never lay a hand on his own wife, so, Miss, you've had the honor of becoming cannon fodder. Best of luck.'
...
However, an unforeseen storm can appear at any moment, and a vile person can show up when you least expect it.
Halfway through their return journey, a low clap of thunder split the sky, followed by a torrential downpour.
'But the weather forecast said no rain, didn't it?'
But the rain was already falling, and it wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference even if they'd dragged the chief meteorologist out here himself.
Leona Grant and his entourage were stranded on an unnamed island for a day and a night.
Chase glanced at the president's face, which was as black as the bottom of a wok, and knew the young miss's days were numbered.
It wasn't until after four in the afternoon the next day that the weather cleared, and they could finally fly home.
