Sweetheart Bride: A Tropical Billionaire Marriage of Convenience (Brides of Paradise Book 2)

by Vicky Loebel

“What happened?”

  “The professor turned out to be a con artist who fled one step ahead of the Fuerza Publica. Some of us kept the camp going for a few months, but it was too much in debt.” She jerked a dead flower off its stem. “But I still believe in the basic principle. The way to save our planet is by bringing people closer to nature.” She scowled. “Not shutting them in ugly casinos.”

  Ryan was going to shut people in a beautiful casino. “Tell you what.” He removed his suit jacket and folded it on a chair. “Come next door and take a look at our plans. You ought to at least see them before you write us off as an ecological disaster.” He stepped onto a chair, chinned himself up and over the iron railing designed to keep people inside, and dropped onto the twelve-inch ledge between balconies. It was a stunt he’d pulled dozens of times, usually to the appreciative squeals of women.

  Ellie Green watched in silence.

  Ordinarily Ryan might have played it up, teetering dramatically, waving his arms, but something warned him to be honest with Ellie. He raised one finger to check the wind, and then, enjoying the rush of hovering thirty-three stories above the Vegas strip, crossed the eight-foot span and pulled himself up and over the opposite railing.

  Ellie kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the chair. “My turn.”

  “What?” That wasn’t the plan. “Wait! Ellie. No!”

  She jumped and swung herself over the barrier, landing gracefully on the ledge. Thirty-three stories. Ryan held his breath while Ellie strolled forward with cat-like unconcern. Thirty stories above certain death. A blast of hot wind ricocheted against the building, rattling her sequins. She stopped and pressed her back to the wall.

  “You’re doing fine.” He could climb out to help, but that might throw her off balance. “Only a little farther.”

  “I’m not afraid of heights,” Ellie replied calmly. “But I’m used to walkways that sway while the air around them holds still.” She covered the last three feet, leaped to catch the railing, and pulled herself onto the bar.

  Ryan stepped onto a potted tree to help her down. She didn’t need it though. The woman was a natural climber. In fact…the sense of déjà vu came again. He stared into clear hazel eyes. “You!” It was the kid from the Paradise. The girl they’d sat on in the mud. “You’re the trespasser!”

  She jerked, startled, and wobbled alarmingly on the rail. Ryan threw his arms around her chest and hurled himself backward. His foot reached for ground and found air. There was the sound of ripping, a horrifying instant of free fall, and then they slammed onto the balcony with Ellie on top.

  What was he doing? Ryan’s ears roared. What was he thinking? One tiny mistake, an unexpected puff of wind, and she’d have been a grease smear on the pavement. Ryan had done a lot of stupid things in his life—many involving women. Now those events flashed through his mind in a frightening high-speed replay. There could have been dozens of grease smears. Hundreds. He’d taken horrible chances….

  “You know,” Ellie drawled. “That’s the most trouble any man’s ever taken to get me out of my top.”

  Ryan pried his eyes open. A stretchy star-spangled scrap hung from the tree above them.

  “That’s OK.” He couldn’t seem to let her go. “It’s the most trouble I’ve ever taken to get a woman undressed. Why…?” He stopped and took a breath to slow his galloping heartbeat. “Why didn’t you tell us who you were yesterday?”

  “I was too angry.” She turned her head and rested her cheek on his shirt. “And too embarrassed. I hadn’t seen you since…um….” Ellie shivered and Ryan hugged her tight. “Since….”

  “Since our wedding?” he teased.

  “Don’t laugh. You got in serious trouble.”

  “That was nothing.”

  “Your father hit you with my geography book.”

  “I probably deserved it.” His dad and Henrik had dragged him to Ellie’s cottage in a furious rage. But once they realized he hadn’t seduced an eight-year old girl, they’d been deeply amused. “I think my uncle offered to adopt you.”

  “And then they sent you away.”

  “Ellie.” He touched her baby-fine hair. “That wasn’t you. My dad and I have been at each other’s throats forever. I spent that summer bumming around Europe.” Seducing age-appropriate females. “Trust me. No one’s ever taken anything I’ve done seriously.”

  “I did. I always did.” Her trembling lessened. “I still do.”

  Ryan blinked. He didn’t know Ellie, hadn’t seen her in ages, and yet her words touched him. He ran his fingertips along her uncovered spine. “Thanks.”

  “Um.” She squirmed encouragingly. “This is awkward.”

  “Uh huh.” He stroked her spine again.

  “Indecent.” She snuggled close in a way that told him she liked it.

  “Unexpected.” He traced one finger along the waistband of her skirt. It wasn’t too indecent. Not yet. The plants made an excellent privacy screen.

  “Irresistible.” Ellie’s palm warmed his chest.

  Ryan had not caressed a woman’s skin in nearly six months. He fought the sudden urge to roll Ellie over and trail kisses across her breasts, over her belly, to drown himself in her tastes and smells. “I ought to get you some clothes.”

  “Yeah.” She didn’t budge. “I’ll get up.”

  “Unless you’d rather be ravished out here on my balcony.”

  He felt her mouth curve in a smile. “It’s a thought.”

  It was dangerously close to becoming reality. Ryan took a deep breath and deliberately killed the mood. “But then you’ll miss your chance to admire my casino.”

  “Casino.” Her body stiffened. “Right.”

  “Wait here.” Ryan closed his eyes and rolled to his feet. He walked regretfully to the sliding door to his suite and tugged on the handle.

  The door didn’t open.

  Lucas. Ryan groaned. His bodyguard-slash-assistant was obsessed with locked doors. Lucas had spent the day at a high-tech security show, and from the look of the bags piled all over the suite, he’d come home feeling very secure.

  Ryan peered through the door, looking for his Viking cousin. But before he’d made up his mind to throw a chair through the glass, Lucas strolled into the living room waving a stubby wand. The man spotted Ryan, tensed briefly, and then turned to face the balcony, crossing his arms.

  As soon as he stopped laughing, he’d probably open the door.

  Chapter Five

  Ellie was not sure what was happening, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want to be part of it half-naked. She dragged her top from the tree and ducked between plants. Stretched between her hands, the torn scrap of fabric barely covered her breasts.

  The balcony door slid open.

  “Is that a metal detector?” Ryan asked someone inside. “Or are you happy to see me?”

  “Jackass detector.” The answering voice had a light Scandinavian accent. There was an electronic squeal. “Oh look. Found one. Which of your unsatisfied girlfriends locked you outside?”

  Girlfriends? Ellie grimaced.

  “I have no unsatisfied girlfriends.” Ryan went in. “I am a sheik of delight.” He pulled the door shut behind him.

  Girlfriends…plural? Ellie wondered if she should return to her room over the ledge. She didn’t know if anyone had seen their skywalk the first time, but repeating the performance topless seemed like asking for trouble. She scrunched lower into the shade of the balcony. The desert air was like an oven, so much drier than anything she’d ever experienced. Strange that she hadn’t noticed it before….

  The door slid open and Ryan stepped out, covering his eyes with one hand. “All clear. I shooed my doorman away.” He held a man’s white dress shirt at arm’s length. Ellie slipped into it—the silky fabric hung past her miniskirt—and started doing up buttons. By the time Ryan looked, she was almost, if not completely, decent.

  His eyebrows lifted. “I’m going remember this every time I open my closet.”

 
Ellie was going to remember his girlfriends. “Thanks, Sheik.” She rolled up the cuffs. “I should be getting back.”

  “On the contrary. You should have a glass of champagne.” He took Ellie’s hand and tugged her like a puppy at the end of its leash. “It’s the least you can do after I saved your life.”

  “You almost knocked me off your balcony.”

  “But I saved you after that.”

  Ryan’s hotel suite was bigger than Gran’s—really a luxury apartment, with thick carpeting, sleek furniture, and original artwork on the walls. In addition to the living room and what looked like several bedrooms, there was a credenza supporting an architect’s model of the Hotel Ten next to a gleaming steel conference table. A locked case containing what looked like Pre-Columbian pottery divided the conference area from a large kitchenette. The other man, the one who’d let him in, was nowhere to be seen.

  “Nice place.” She hiked across the living room and examined the pottery. “Inca?”

  “Aztec. Imitation mostly. From my mother’s ceramic phase.”

  “Your mom made these?” Ellie looked closer. “She’s good.”

  “Was good. She jumped off a cliff—or else my dad pushed her—when I was seven.” He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the case.

  What an odd thing to say. “You think your dad murdered your mom?”

  “Not really. Not literally. She had a lot of ups and downs. Took pills. Took crazy risks. My father crushed her spirit, but I don’t think he cared enough to do her in.” Ryan passed Ellie a small bowl decorated with monsters. “That’s my favorite.”

  “It’s lovely. And a little scary.” She picked up the other pieces one-by-one, sensing the troubled talent that created them. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks.” His polished surface rippled a little. “She took me to Calixtlahuaca, Templo Mayor, all sorts of places when I was small. I built the Hotel Ten in her honor.” Ryan turned away, busying himself with removing gold cufflinks, rolling up sleeves. “What can I offer you? Shrimp? Gourmet pizza? Caviar?” He opened the fridge and took out champagne. “There’s a ton of stuff left over from our business lunch that’s going to waste.”

  “Nothing.” Apparently they were back to small talk. “Anything. No, wait.” Ellie’s stomach rumbled. “I’d love pizza. I haven’t had that in years.”

  “No pizza? That’s practically a violation of international law.” Ryan placed a flat box in the microwave and opened the champagne bottle as casually as Ellie would have twisted the cap off a bottle of beer.

  “You really built the Hotel Ten?” she asked. “Are you an architect?”

  Ryan shook his head. “I got about a third of the way through a Master of Architecture degree at UNLV, here in town, where I learned exactly enough to drive the real architects crazy. They always kick me out before my projects are finished.” He filled delicate champagne flutes and passed one over. “To new beginnings.”

  That was something Ellie desperately needed. “New beginnings.” She sipped cautiously, amazed to find the taste crisp and smooth.

  He grinned. “You look like a cat putting your nose in the bathtub.”

  “I haven’t drunk much champagne.” Only once. The night she gave Gran’s cashier’s check to Juan Esteban. Ellie started to push away her glass and then picked it up and drained it instead. “To new beginnings,” she repeated.

  Ryan got the pizza and set out plates. Damn, the man looked good in shirtsleeves. Ellie remembered how strong his arms had felt on the balcony. Champagne bubbles left her stomach and percolated up her spine.

  She glanced at her empty glass. “Can I have water, please?”

  “Sure.” He slipped a pizza slice onto her plate, poured a chilled tumbler of Pellegrino, and ushered Ellie to a seat.

  She used her fingers since he hadn’t provided a fork. “Oh.” Ellie moaned in pleasure as rich sauce hit her tongue. “Oh, this is wonderful.”

  Ryan refilled her champagne glass and sat to watch her eat with flattering attention. “So, your boss was a crook. Did you get any college credit at all?”

  “Nada. And not just me. The other women got scammed as well.” They’d been a pack of fools. “The five of us pretty much lost everything.”

  Ryan’s blue eyes widened sympathetically.

  She gulped champagne, trying to wash down a lump. “The worst part is, nobody ever thought to check with the university. We got all our information—grades, ID cards, everything—from the man running the program, and we were totally under his spell.”

  “That’s rough.” He put his hand on hers and bubbles fizzed through Ellie again.

  Don’t do it. She studied Ryan’s attentive face. Don’t get conned by another charismatic man. She remembered his hands on her back. His body, fine and firm, under hers. Right now, Ryan was looking at her like she was the most important thing in the world.

  It was a look Ellie recognized. She’d seen it on Juan Esteban’s face when she slept with him secretly, once a week every week, until his students realized they were being rotated in and out of his bed like clockwork.

  “So, Sheik.” Ellie recovered her hand. “About this casino—”

  Someone knocked on the door. The lock cycled and a very tall, very broad-shouldered man entered the suite. Ellie winced, recognizing the ponytailed bodyguard from Gran’s home, although at least this wasn’t the jerk who’d sat on her in the mud.

  “The boss wants you,” he told Ryan. “Now.”

  “Bekka is not my boss,” Ryan replied. And then to Ellie, “That’s Lucas, by the way. Ignore whatever he says.”

  “Hello, Miss Green. It’s a pleasure to meet you without the mud.” He turned to Ryan. “The boss instructed me to drag you by your short and…ah…hair.”

  Ellie got up, remembering belatedly she was barefoot. “I should go.” Barefoot and dressed like a sex kitten in Ryan’s white shirt. Although she was pretty sure sex kittens wore makeup and had more to offer in the cleavage department.

  “Bekka told me,” Lucas continued, without appearing to notice Ellie’s outfit, “that if I don’t bring you, she’ll come drag you herself.”

  “God help me,” Ryan sighed. “Ellie, please finish your pizza.” He headed for one of the bedrooms. “And tell my cousin to keep his paws off the pie.”

  “Cousin?” She sat, tucking the shirttails beneath her. “You’re from Denmark, right?” That would explain the accent.

  “Odense, originally.”

  Ellie was embarrassed not to know where that was. Russia? No wait, that was Odessa.

  The big man sat across from her, dwarfing his chair. “My brother and I work in security. We divide our time between Denmark and the States.” He picked up Ryan’s half-eaten slice of pizza. “Right now, I’m babysitting your host.”

  She tried to imagine what it would be like to have a bodyguard hovering over her. “Does Ryan need babysitting?”

  “Constantly.” Lucas finished the slice and reached for the box. “How is Mrs. Green enjoying her visit?”

  “Gran? At Hotel Ten? A little too well.” She decided not to mention Frankie-Baby. “Did you know who I was? Yesterday, at our house on St. John?”

  “Of course.” His smile was like a blond Mona Lisa’s. “That’s my job.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You had a right to be there. You weren’t a threat. Presumably, if you’d wanted the others to know more, you’d have told them yourself.”

  That was a very matter-of-fact way of viewing things. “You remind me of Gran.”

  “She’s a fine lady.” Lucas went to the fridge and chugged the bottle of Pellegrino.

  “And are you in favor of this horrible casino project?” Ellie asked.

  “I think it’s likely to be a financial success.”

  “Short term. For a small group of investors. What about the long-term cost to the environment? Poisoned coral reefs? Destruction of habitat?”

  The bodyguard shrugged.
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  “Don’t you want to leave a bit of unspoiled earth for future generations?”

  “Apart from standing aside while somebody strangles my employer, I have very little influence in the matter.”

  “Who does influence Ryan?”

  “His uncle Henrik, his cousin Chris, whatever woman happens to be wearing his clothes.” The man’s voice was so mild she almost missed the barb.

  “Ryan loaned me this shirt. Mine got caught on a tree.”

  Lucas followed her glance to the balcony and frowned, apparently figuring out why Ryan had been locked outside. “I see.” His eyes hardened. “Perhaps I’ll strangle my employer myself.”

  “That” —Ryan emerged wearing a fresh, crisply pressed suit— “would be a very unprofessional conflict of interest.” In the five minutes he’d been gone, the man had transformed himself from casual host to international businessman, straight off the cover of some billionaire magazine. “Why are we strangling me this time?” Ryan inquired.

  “Sorry.” Ellie gestured at the sliding doors. “I think I spilled the beans.”

  “What, our little adventure on the ledge?” His smile was more dazzling than any camera flash. “Lucas is merely jealous because I’m a better climber than he is.” Ryan turned to his cousin. “Ellie, on the other hand, is better than either one of us. Don’t ever try to hide from her up a tree.”

  “I’ll make a note in my diary.” Lucas’ phone chirped. “Our lady master calls.” He punched a quick reply. “Time to go. Preferably via the elevator, unless you want to see who’s best at sprinting down thirty flights of stairs.”

  “I’d hate to crush your ego twice in one day.” Ryan unlocked the credenza, took out a plastic card, and tossed it onto the conference table. “That key opens both our suites,” he told Ellie. “You can return it later.” He took out a set of colorful three-ring binders. “And these are the preliminary plans for Casino Paradise. Why don’t you look through them while you finish eating. I’ll be tied up tonight, but maybe you’ll let me buy you lunch tomorrow and we can discuss it.”

  Ellie frowned at the binders. “Maybe.”

  Lucas’ phone chirped again. “Last call.” He gripped his employer’s elbow and dragged him toward the door.