The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc Book 3)

by Avery James

  If this is what he's like when he's upset, I need to get him into fights more often, she thought.

  Jack traced his hands back over her body, slowly rubbing against her curves, stoking her lingering desire into something more. She ground against him, sealing her lips against his again and kissing him as she felt him swell inside of her.

  Except for the last time she had been with Jack, it had been such a long stretch for Charlotte without a man to please her, she was genuinely surprised when she felt the thrill welling inside of her again.

  Jack locked his fingers in hers as she rode out a second peak of her pleasure. His hands squeezed hers firmly as they shared their completion. By the time they were done, Charlotte collapsed next to Jack, exhausted by euphoria.

  As she laid in his arms, Charlotte stared up at the cathedral ceiling of his bedroom.

  "It really is beautiful here," she said. "I can't imagine what it was like to grow up in a place like this."

  "I'll bring you back in the summer. There's nothing like falling asleep to the sound of the waves. It's one of the things I really miss."

  "You know, we could open the window and fall asleep to the sound of the waves tonight if you'd like."

  "Charlotte, it's twenty five degrees outside."

  "I'll just open it a crack. Besides, I have you to keep me warm."

  Jack rubbed her shoulder, and kissed her earlobe.

  "You have that right," he whispered.

  "Good, then we have a deal," Charlotte said.

  She rolled out of bed and pulled the window open just enough to let in the sounds of the ocean raking against the beach. Tendrils of cold air crept through the opening, and she felt it tickle her bare stomach. As she crawled back into bed and into Jack's arms, she knew she would sleep very well that night.

  Chapter 18

  Charlotte rolled over and pulled the blankets tight up to her shoulders. There was still a chill in the air, but Jack had closed the window at some point in the night. Jack was standing by the side of the bed, fully dressed and holding something in his arms.

  "What's going on?" Charlotte asked. "Is it even light out yet?"

  "It's time to go," Jack said.

  "Home?"

  "No, I mean it's time to go outside. There's something I want to show you."

  Jack tossed a thick pea coat onto the bed. He held a thermos in one gloved hand and a pair of binoculars in the other.

  "Come on. I want to show you something. Will you come? I've got a hat and gloves ready for you downstairs. Let's go."

  There was an urgency in his voice. It was the first time in their relationship that Charlotte had felt like Jack was really asking her for something instead of telling her what to do. She reached over and took the jacket, slipping into it as she crawled out of bed.

  "A pair of pants wouldn't hurt either," she said.

  Jack laughed and nodded to the closet. "Get ready, and I'll meet you downstairs in five."

  "This better be worth it," Charlotte said.

  Jack paused in the doorway. "About losing my temper yesterday," he said.

  "You don't have to apologize for that."

  "I'm not. I just wanted to thank you again for reeling me in when I got a bit too far from shore. It's something I have to work on. There's something about being back home that makes you feel like you're fifteen years old again, isn't there?"

  "Yeah," Charlotte said. "Don't worry about it. You're doing fine."

  When she got downstairs, Jack was waiting by the side door. He handed her a hat and gloves.

  "We have to hurry, or we'll miss it," he said.

  He led her outside, and the first rush of cold air stung at her skin before she pulled the lapels of the coat up to her chin.

  In the gray half-light before dawn, the headlights of Jack's car traced a dim path along the driveway. Halfway back to the gate, Jack slowed and turned onto a narrow path, barely wider than the car. If Charlotte had reached out the window, she could have touched the tall grass that threatened to overwhelm the lane. The path grew narrower, and Jack slowed the car further. The crushed shells had given way to dirt, and soon Jack parked the car in a small clearing not much wider than the track that led back to the driveway.

  "We're here," Jack said. He handed Charlotte a thermos and stepped out of the car.

  The thin wisps of frost crackled underfoot as Charlotte followed Jack across the clearing to the edge of a boardwalk. The sky was starting to take on the color of dawn, growing brighter and warmer on the horizon.

  "Where exactly are we going?" Charlotte asked.

  "The sun will melt the frost within the hour," Jack said.

  Charlotte watched the cloud of breath escape his lips as he spoke, obscuring him for just a second.

  "I wanted to give you a chance to see how beautiful this place could be before we head back to the house and deal with its ugliness for a while longer. When I was a kid, this whole place was my grandfather's domain. My parents, my aunts and uncles, everyone did whatever he said to do. He built the whole family empire from scratch."

  "Was he the one everyone was yelling about last night?" Charlotte asked.

  As they walked down the boardwalk, the boards creaked with every step. A light breeze stirred the tall grass of the marsh back and forth in ripples, drowning out the sound of the ocean in the distance.

  "That tends to happen when he comes up," Jack said. "He owned a couple of fishing boats when prohibition started, and within two years, he had a fleet of ships running liquor up and down the East Coast. By the time they lifted the ban on alcohol, he had already become one of the most powerful men in the country."

  Jack slipped his arm around Charlotte's shoulder as he led her through the maze of walkways.

  "He was a man of great ambition, and he aimed to grow his empire in whatever way he could, whether that was financial power, political power, or anything else. He was a teenager during prohibition. He managed to get his hands on his father's fishing boat and used it to run liquor from Canada. By the time the law was repealed, he had managed to build one of the largest liquor smuggling businesses on the East Coast. He wasn't even twenty one years old. He used to hide his cash in boxes in the basement of his father's house.

  "He had a few run-ins with the mob, but he was tough in the kind of way none of us ever could be. At the same time he was also meticulous. He kept track of every detail. He built this all himself. He bought the land in the late forties for nearly nothing. He designed the main house. My dad and his brothers were kids then, and none of them seem to remember living anywhere but here.

  "By the time I was a kid, he had retired. He had a stroke in his early seventies, but he had mostly recovered by the time I was old enough to remember. After retirement and the stroke, he took up birdwatching, channeling his energy into cataloging every bird that flew through this marsh. He had this boardwalk built, and he would come out here for hours every day. He liked to say that this was the most beautiful place on Earth."

  Charlotte looked around the frosty path as Jack gestured with his hand. To her, it just looked frozen and deserted.

  As they turned another corner and the sun came into view over the water, Charlotte gasped. The frost and the ice crystals on the tips of the elephant grass shimmered in the morning light, sparkling as the wind swept them back and forth like waves. It was beautiful. The sun was rising higher over the water now, and Charlotte felt its warmth on her face and watched its reflection in the water.

  Jack handed her the binoculars. While everything else about the moment felt like it could melt away in an instant, the binoculars felt solid, like they were built to last a hundred years. She pulled them up to her face and looked out over the scene, studying the minute details of the ice crystals waving in the breeze. On the far end of the marsh, she saw a flock of geese starting to take flight. Opposite them, a few ducks swam in circles. All around them, the marsh was teeming with life, even in the dead cold of a New England winter.

  "Thank you
for letting me see this," she said.

  "That wasn't the only reason I asked you to come here," Jack said. "There's something I need to tell you about myself, and this is the only place where I can do it. I feel like if you can just see it how I see it, maybe you'd understand why I am the way I am.

  "Every Saturday morning, my mother would pack me a bagged lunch and send me off with my grandfather into this marsh. We'd head to his favorite spot and birdwatch silently for hours. He'd built a bird blind that we used, but my mother had it torn down after my father died. While my brother and my sister were free to sleep or watch TV or do whatever they wanted, I was sent along with my grandfather, because I was the only one who wouldn't complain about spending hours at a time with the old man, waiting for my grandfather to check off another box in his bird ledger. I couldn't tell you the difference between a wren and a titmouse, but I know that it made him happy to be out here with his grandson, and I was happy to be here, too. If you want to know why I resent them, it's because they almost never care about anyone but themselves, and they miss out on so much because of it."

  "Have you told them this?" Charlotte asked.

  "I've tried," Jack said. "They don't listen. They'd rather go on about how I've wronged them by taking responsibility for myself and for the legacy my grandfather built. He'd be ashamed if he saw the state of this family."

  "That's not true. He'd be proud of you and everything you've done. He must have been proud of your father and your uncles as well."

  "You don't get it," Jack said, "I remember when I was probably twelve years old, my grandfather explained to me how his father used to beat him with a belt."

  "That's awful," Charlotte said.

  "That's not the worst of it. He told me he was grateful for what his father had done for him. He said he was too soft on his kids, that he had indulged them too much, that he had been a terrible father, more interested in his fortune and power than in his own sons, and he was right, Charlotte. He was right about being a terrible father. I'm not saying he should have beaten them, of course, but he was right that his children were all spoiled, and that their children were worse. Do you have any idea what it's like to have your grandfather tell you that you're the only hope your family has at redemption? How am I supposed to change any of that? I didn't realize it then, but he was telling me that someday I'd have to choose between what I wanted and what was right.

  "When my father died, he left me in charge of a multibillion dollar trust. When my grandfather died, he left me this pair of binoculars. Ask me which one means more to me."

  "Your father must have thought the world of you if he left you in charge," Charlotte said.

  "He knew I'd toe the line, that I'd do the job. Sometimes, I wish I could just give it all away. I'm the only person fighting for this family's name."

  He reached out for the binoculars from Charlotte and held them up to his face for only a moment.

  "You can see every ice crystal, every ripple in the far-off water, all of it. I keep these binoculars at the house. They belong here. Sometimes I feel like I belong here, and other times I can't stand to look at this place for another second."

  "Jack," Charlotte said, pulling off a glove to touch his cold cheek. Looking back out at the marsh, instead of a beautiful field of light, all Charlotte could see was what Jack saw: a legacy he alone could protect and a burden he had held for years.

  "Charlotte," he said, "you're the only person I've ever told that story. I never knew how to tell my parents or my siblings. For years, I had hoped he was wrong, but he wasn't. We've all been terrible and irresponsible and selfish, even me."

  "What about your parents?"

  "My dad was the worst of all. He was terrible to my mother. She likes to think he was a saint, but he wasn't. If only she knew what he was really like, if only any of them knew," Jack said. His nostrils flared, and his breath came out in clouds of hot steam. "It's just not worth the effort. They won't listen to me, regardless of what I have to say."

  "I'm listening."

  "I know you are, but it's different. You have to."

  "I'm here because I want to be here," Charlotte said.

  "Thank you," Jack said.

  Charlotte turned to Jack. The light caught his eyes just right to make them seem powder blue. She felt like she was seeing the real him, as if in this light he could finally show her the depths of his longing. She slid her body tight against his and kissed him. His nose and cheeks were cold but his lips were warm.

  "You shouldn't have to struggle with all of this yourself," Charlotte said.

  Charlotte didn't want to change Jack. She just wanted him to do what would make him happy in life, to make the right decisions instead of the popular ones.

  Charlotte wondered what Jack would do if she told him she didn't want to settle for a fake marriage. The more time she spent around him, the closer she was to admitting to herself she wanted their relationship to be real. She decided she had to tell him, but she knew it wasn't the right time. She'd have to wait for her opportunity.

  "Your mother wants us to get married here in the summer," she said. "I think she and your sister are already making plans."

  "I told them not to do that," Jack said. "I'll take care of it with the Havens."

  "Maybe it makes sense to let them arrange it here. We wouldn't have to worry about it, and it would make such a beautiful wedding for the public, even with your whole family there." Charlotte regretted saying it as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

  Jack's winced ever so slightly. It wasn't just the idea of his family, Charlotte knew, because that look of frustration was one she had become intimately familiar. There was something else bothering him about the idea of his family being at the ceremony, or of the wedding being a public spectacle.

  "I'll take care of it," he said.

  "Whatever you want to do, we'll do," Charlotte said. "Let's go back to the house. You can tell them whatever you want, but just know that I'll be by your side."

  She placed her hand over Jack's.

  He pulled away for a second and pulled off his glove. Charlotte locked her fingers between his as their eyes met. She could see that twinge of pain fading away in his face as they held hands in the cold. Her hand would have been much warmer shoved into one of the pockets of her oversized coat, but she didn't care.

  She wasn't going to let go. Not for warmth, not for anything.

  Chapter 19

  The entryway was quiet when they returned, and a lone lamp lit one corner of the great expanse of the main living room. Save for the light from the brightening morning and some light spilling under the doorway to the dining room, the house was dark. Jack took Charlotte's hand and led her to the dining room. Five place settings sat ready on the long table.

  Jack squeezed Charlotte's hand tighter and led her to the kitchen. A blond woman, about fifty years old, stood over a large metal pot, stirring away.

  "Jack!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing giving me a fright like that? I didn't know if we'd get to see you this time."

  The woman placed the bowl down on the counter and gave Jack a bear hug. After she let go, Jack straightened himself up, and smiled.

  "Greta, you're a sight for sore eyes. I didn't expect you to be in so early."

  Greta waved his doubts away like they were insane. "You think I wasn't itching to be here this morning when I heard the news? I begged to stay yesterday when your mother told me to have the day off."

  Jack wrapped his arm around Charlotte and pulled her close. "I'd like you to meet my fiancée. Charlotte, this is Greta, my mother's personal chef and an old friend."

  "I've read about you in the tabloids. The woman who tamed Jack Coburn. Let me see the ring!"

  Charlotte held out her hand.

  "Oh, it's much more beautiful than it looked in the pictures," Greta said. "And you seem just as charming as they say."

  "Is that what they're saying about me?" Charlotte laughed. She had read all the articles too, but it
was strange to have a complete stranger know who she was.

  Greta pushed Jack's shoulder. "You did well. Rick and Amos were wondering if they'd get to see you. We follow everything we can about you. Your mother is so proud. We all are. It's hard to believe our little Jack-Jack has grown up to become Congressman Coburn, soon to be Senator Coburn."

  "Thank you, Greta," Jack said. He couldn't help but blush. He turned to Charlotte. "Greta's parents worked for my parents for years. She used to babysit me from time to time when the nanny wasn't around."

  "My brother and I would watch him, but Jack always seemed more mature than the both of us combined. By the time he was a teenager, and I was working for his parents, it was like we were brother and sister."

  "Speaking of brothers, how is Rick these days?" Jack asked.

  "He's well," Greta said, "He and Amos were hoping to catch up with you at some point."

  Jack surveyed the kitchen and looked out toward the dining room. "Is anyone up yet?" he asked.

  "Your mother has been up for a while, but you know how she likes to read in the morning. Your brother and sister… well, you know them."

  "Let them sleep," Jack said. "Will you be able to make it to the wedding? You don't have much of a say in the matter."

  "Your mother was discussing caterers," Greta said.

  "As a guest," Jack said. "You Amos, everyone who's worked here over the years. Our family really isn't a family without all of you. You know how much you mean to my mother."

  "Oh, of course we'll be there. Your mother was telling me all about her plans for transforming the gardens for the wedding in the summer."

  "Actually, we have different plans," Jack said. "But let's grab some coffee and catch up while we wait."

  Two hours later, when Caroline and Whit finally made their way down for breakfast, joining their mother in the dining room, Jack told Charlotte he was going to make an announcement. Charlotte stood by his side as he stood at the head of the table and said he had big news.