Marrying for King's Millions

by Maureen Child

  She bolted up in the oversized bed in his room and scrambled off the mattress. Naked, she stood there for a second, wishing she had her robe. Then she shrugged and dragged a sheet they’d yanked loose during the night around her body. Tripping on the edges of it as she went, Julie stumbled into the main room.

  Travis was still as a statue, standing in a wide splash of sunlight pouring through the open French doors. A room service cart loaded down with coffee, fresh fruits and an assortment of breakfast pastries stood unnoticed beside him. He held a newspaper and his features were filled with fury as he stared at the front page.

  “Travis?”

  His gaze snapped to hers and she watched as the anger in his eyes shifted to a different, much harder to read emotion. “We’ve got a situation.”

  “Yeah, I heard,” she said, tugging the sheet out of her way as she walked toward him. “What’s wrong?”

  “What isn’t?” When she was close enough, he turned the paper toward her.

  “Oh, my G—” With her free hand, she snatched at the newspaper and tilted it so that the black-and-white picture taking up most of the front page was in the sunlight. But she hadn’t really needed clarification.

  The headline was large and black. King and His New Queen. She winced at that and wondered idly if that would be her new nickname in the press. But when she glanced farther down and took in the picture below the headline, the title Queen was the least of her worries.

  The photograph was crystal clear and so detailed, the photographer might as well have been in the room with them. Or rather, on the terrace.

  There she and Travis were, captured in the moment when desire had leaped up between them. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy as his hands cupped her breasts and his mouth was at her throat.

  They looked like an X-rated version of a vampire and his victim. Thank heaven the newspaper had thoughtfully provided a black bar across her naked breasts.

  How very classy of them.

  Oh, God, would her mother see this? Embarrassment flooded her body and she felt the heat of it swamp through her like a brushfire rushing uphill. Her gaze lifted to his. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Welcome to my world,” he muttered, then shoved one hand through his thick, dark hair. Half turning, he poured them each a cup of steaming coffee and handed one to her.

  “Damn photographers.” He shook his head grimly, took a sip of coffee and said, “This is my fault, Julie. I shouldn’t have taken the chance of being seen, but I was caught off guard and—”

  “We both were,” she murmured, shifting her gaze back to the photo of Travis nibbling at her throat. She could hardly swallow her own coffee and was half afraid that the jolt of caffeine would only clear up her vision, making the photo even worse.

  “Yes, but you’re not used to life in the spotlight. I should have been thinking. Should have remembered telephoto lenses, damn it.”

  Looking up at him, Julie saw that he was both furious and frustrated. Probably not a good combination. “Wasn’t your fault, Travis. Besides, it doesn’t matter now how it happened. The point is, it did. Can’t you—” she shook the paper, then tossed it to the table and concentrated on her coffee “—sue them or something?”

  “Pointless,” he said darkly. “It only revs up interest. If we’re lucky, this will stay in the local paper and not be picked up by the bigger outlets.”

  “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes briefly. “I feel lucky.”

  He snapped her a look and seemed to notice what she was wearing—or more precisely, what she wasn’t wearing. Moving to the French doors, he closed them, then yanked the sheers closed across them. “No more gifts to the paparazzi,” he said.

  “Right.” She clutched her sheet tighter with one hand and held on to her coffee with the other. “So, what’re we going to do about all of this?”

  “I’ll have my lawyers contact the paper here in town—”

  “But I thought suing was—”

  “Not for a suit. He’ll pull out the legalese and give them a stern lecture though.”

  Oh, yeah, she’d always figured that paparazzi could be tamed if someone would just sit down and give them a good talking to. But no point throwing a metaphorical log onto his fire. “And then?”

  “Then…” He checked his gold wristwatch. “I’m meeting my cousin Rico in a half hour. He’s got some ideas on a few judges I can talk to about getting your prior marriage dissolved quickly and quietly.”

  “Okay,” Julie said, already walking toward her half of the suite. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll be showered, dressed and ready.”

  “No need,” he said brusquely, topping off his coffee. “You just sit tight. I’ll take care of the arrangements.”

  “Sit tight?” she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone.

  “Yeah.” He walked to a nearby table, picked up a remote and punched a button. The big-screen television flickered to life. “Rent movies, have a massage, go to the pool. Or, there’s a shopping pavilion on the ground floor. Go buy things.”

  Julie stared at him, amazed. He actually thought that she would trot off and play lazy rich wife while he was out dealing with her past and arranging her future? Oh, that was never going to happen.

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “Shopping. Massage. Is that how the other women you’ve brought here spent their time?”

  He must have caught something in her tone because he swiveled his head to look at her, confusion clearly stamped on his face. “Yes,” he admitted. “They all seemed to enjoy themselves. Why wouldn’t you?”

  All of them?

  Of course, all, she told herself. Travis had probably brought dozens of women to this hotel. This suite. They’d all romped in that bed with him and—Oh, she so didn’t want to think about that right now.

  No wonder the desk clerk had tried her hand at a little seduction. From her point of view, Julie was no more than the latest female in a long, staggering line of Travis’s companions.

  Well, Julie was different. She might not be the woman of his dreams, but for now anyway, she was at least his wife. Well, more or less. And she wouldn’t be treated like some brainless bimbo looking to get a tight grip on his credit cards.

  “I didn’t come here to shop. Or to get a massage. Or to do any number of the things your usual women are so entertained by,” she reminded him. “I’m here to straighten out a mistake in my past.”

  “It’s being handled,” he said, glancing back at the television where a space battle was taking place in showering sparks and flashing lights.

  “By you.”

  “Yes, by me.”

  Julie stared at him. “But this doesn’t just concern you, Travis. This is about me. ”

  “Julie, you’re making too much of this. You’re tired and frustrated and I’m sure the wake-up call in the paper has you upset, too.”

  She could almost feel him giving her a pat on the head. She took a long deep breath and fanned the flames of her own simmering temper. “So what you’re saying is, I should just stay here, out of the way and not worry my pretty little head about it?”

  He finally seemed to catch the tone of her voice, then turned to her and frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it.
”

  “For God’s sake, Julie…”

  “Forget it, Travis,” she said, heading for her bedroom and the shower. “You may have thought you were getting yourself a temporary mousey wife, but you got one with a mind of her own.”

  “You’ll only complicate matters,” he called after her.

  She stopped in the doorway to her bedroom and looked back over her shoulder at him. “Let’s remember, I trusted Jean Claude to get that divorce without my input. Just look how well that turned out.”

  “I’m not Pierre.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said, hitching the sheet a little higher across her breasts. She felt like an idiot having this conversation while wearing nothing but a silken bed sheet. “You’re Travis King, used to getting his own way and having people shout ‘how high?’ when you say ‘jump.’ Just so you know, I don’t jump. Ever. So if you think I’m going to trust another man to take care of something this important without my being involved, you’re way wrong. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  Six

  “T here’s a car waiting for you outside. The driver will take you to Judge Hernandez.”

  Travis nodded. His cousin Rico King stood out in the glossy, airy lobby of his hotel like Death come to a wedding. In the middle of pale pastels and bright tropical colors, Rico wore his preferred black. Black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, black boots. His black hair hung over his collar and his dark eyes were, at the moment, amused.

  “Something funny?” Travis asked.

  “To see you with a bride—” Rico said, shrugging “—entertains me.”

  “Happy to help,” Travis muttered and slanted a look at the glass-fronted gift store where Julie was buying a pack of gum before their trip to the judge’s office. He hadn’t been able to change her mind and she’d been so fast at showering and getting ready, he hadn’t been able to leave before her, either. Besides, knowing Julie, she simply would have followed after him if he’d tried.

  She was wearing a soft yellow dress with spaghetti straps and a slightly flared skirt. Her long legs were bare and golden and looked great thanks to the towering beige high heels she wore. In a second, his mind shot back to the night before, when those long legs of hers had been locked around his hips and just like that, Travis’s body was hot and needy again.

  “Your bride is a beauty,” Rico said.

  Travis frowned. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “You guess?” Rico slapped his back. “Let me assure you that if you’re regretting your hasty marriage, I’d be happy to console your grieving spouse.”

  The thought of Rico anywhere near Julie made temper spike inside him. “Leave her alone.”

  His cousin chuckled. “Do I sense a territorial streak?”

  “You sense my wife. Now cut it out.”

  “Of course.” Rico held both hands up in surrender. “My mistake.”

  Travis sucked in air and blew it out in a rush. As Julie walked toward them smiling, he told himself he wasn’t being territorial. Though he did notice the eyes of several of the men in the lobby following Julie’s progress across the shining floor. He was only playing his role as devoted husband.

  That was all.

  She didn’t speak Spanish, Travis thought. The one saving grace in all of this.

  Julie might have insisted on accompanying him, but at least she was forced to stay out of the conversation he had with a local judge. Though the man probably spoke English, Travis immediately insisted on Spanish. Not that he wasn’t interested in Julie’s suggestions. Actually, he wasn’t. He wanted to take care of this on his own.

  Rico had assured Travis that with a few donations in the right quarters, his problems could be solved very quickly and discretely. Travis could appreciate that. Hell, all over the world, money solved problems faster than anything else.

  By the time he had Judge Hernandez’s promise of a swift resolution to their problem, Julie was shifting impatiently in her chair and peppering him with questions.

  “What was that?” She tugged at his jacket sleeve to get his attention, as if he couldn’t hear her. “What did he say? Does he think he can arrange the divorce? Will he marry us? Why doesn’t he speak English? People in California speak Spanish.”

  “You don’t,” Travis reminded her, with a smile for the judge.

  “I could have,” she muttered. “I just didn’t pay attention in high school.”

  “Unfortunate for you.”

  “¿Qué?” The judge interrupted, a question in his eyes.

  Travis took Julie’s arm, drew her to her feet and in Spanish, assured the judge that all was well and that they would be at Castello de King waiting to hear from him.

  They took the elevator to the street level lobby and stepped out onto a crowded thoroughfare. Sunlight stabbed down from a cloudless blue sky, glanced off the asphalt and simmered in the air.

  Tourists and locals alike jammed the sidewalks and streets. Cars were practically at a standstill as people wandered in and out of shops, back and forth across the road and stopped at carts to buy everything from hats and scarves to tacos and churros, Mexican pastries rolled in cinnamon and sugar. The sounds and scents of the resort town were overwhelming.

  But not to Julie.

  “Tell me everything he said,” she demanded.

  The woman was single-minded if nothing else.

  “Judge Hernandez is on it,” Travis told her, gripping her elbow to steer her through the crowds. “Money talks here as well as it does at home.”

  “So you bribed him?” Shock colored her tone.

  “No.” He shot her a frown and shook his head. “I’m not bribing anyone. It’s just that if you’ve got enough money to back you up, you can make the wheels turn a little faster.”

  “Okay. So did he say how long it would take?”

  “No.” Travis scowled again and stepped around a man wearing at least fifteen wide-brimmed hats on his head while he did some fast sales pitch to the people streaming past him. “But Rico figures two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” she said, hurrying her steps to keep up with his much longer strides. “I just didn’t know we’d be gone so long. Don’t you have to work on that distribution deal with Thomas Henry?”

  “Yes.” And he didn’t like the thought of putting it off. But better to have this marriage-divorce-remarriage thing taken care of before dealing with Henry. “He expects us to have a honeymoon, though.”

  “Honeymoon.” She stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk and Travis tightened his grip on her. “So what are we really going to be doing?”

  He stopped and held his ground as pedestrians slammed into him from all sides. Perfect zone for a pickpocket, he knew, so he glanced around before looking into her eyes. When he did, he heard his cousin’s voice echoing in his head.

  Your bride is a beauty.

  She really was. Funny, but until recently, he’d always seen her as just Julie. Someone he’d known forever. Someone he once climbed trees with. After last night though, he doubted he’d ever see her as a kid again. And with that thought in mind, a slow and sure smile formed on his lips.

  “We have a honeymoon.”

 
“Are you serious?”

  “Why not?” He said it with a shrug, then pulled her out of the flow of foot traffic to stand in the shade of a T-shirt shop. “We’re in one of the most romantic places in the world and I think we proved last night that we’re compatible. ”

  “But what about our agreement?”

  “Already gone, isn’t it?” He smiled again and stroked the tip of one finger along her jawline. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking to propose a year of no sex with a woman who could turn him on with a glance. “Look,” he said softly. “We crossed over the line last night. Any real reason we ought to go back?”

  “I suppose not….”

  “Thanks for the enthusiasm.”

  “No, it’s not that.” She looked around, then shifted her gaze back to his. “Travis, we need to talk about something. It didn’t occur to me until this morning and then we had to rush out to meet the judge and it wasn’t the right time to talk to you about it, but now that we’re talking about this, then it’s the right time to bring up the other.”

  “What?”

  She blew out a breath that ruffled the dark red curls laying on her forehead. “Can we go somewhere a little less crowded?” Her big green eyes were focused on him and didn’t look happy.

  “Sure. Come on.” Whatever it was, he wanted to hear her out and take care of it. No more problems. He grabbed her hand, and felt her fingers automatically entwine with his. Leading the way through the crowd, he pulled her in his wake until he spotted a small city park off to the right. He headed for it and didn’t stop until they were sitting on a curved stone bench beneath a shade tree.

  The sun was hot, but under the tree, the temperature dropped by at least fifteen degrees. The sounds of the nearby ocean thumped in the air like a heartbeat and birdsong played counterpoint to the bustle of the crowd just a few feet away.