A Contract Seduction (Southern Secrets Series Book 2)

by Janice Maynard

  Jonathan had selected a stunning stone, emerald cut. Three carats. Virtually perfect in color and clarity. The delicate setting did nothing to detract from the diamond’s beauty. As Lisette held up her arm, the sun caught facets of the once-upon-a-time carbon and cast rainbows in every direction.

  “Do you like it?” he asked. “We don’t have to keep it. We can get something else. But I want you to have something as beautiful as you are.”

  Lisette grabbed him around his neck, nearly strangling him. “How is it that I’m ready to murder you one minute and kiss you the next?”

  Her aggrieved question made him laugh. He folded her close against his chest. “It’s not an easy thing we’re doing,” he said, stroking her hair, the strands hot from the sun. “I plunged us into this arrangement without much thought. We’ll muddle through, I swear.”

  She pulled back and kissed him sweetly, healing the rift between them. “I’m sorry I was so grumpy,” she said. “Thank you for my engagement ring.”

  Every time he took her in his arms, he wanted her. In a bed. Standing up against a brick wall in a nearby alley. He shook his head, dislodging the fantasy. “Thank you,” he said. “For wearing it.”

  Their détente lasted all through lunch. They found a place by the water and dined on fat prawns, sourdough bread and coleslaw. At his insistence, Lisette enjoyed a glass of wine with her meal.

  Her eyes sparkled with happiness.

  The truth struck him without warning. Like a tsunami barreling in from the sea, flattening every preconception in its wake.

  He was in love with his bride. In lust, yes. But even more than that.

  His heart hammered in his chest. The prawns rolled restlessly in his stomach. This wasn’t part of the equation, part of the agreement. Suddenly, the idea of making Lisette pregnant seemed the most logical thing in the world.

  He had chosen her to be his temporary bride because she was an impartial bystander. It was a lie he had told himself instead of admitting the truth. He wanted her and needed her.

  Since he couldn’t promise her forever, maybe giving her a baby was the best way to show her how much he cared.

  She reached across the table and touched his hand. “You okay?”

  Even the innocent caress of her fingers made him hollow with need. He nodded jerkily. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

  Lisette made a face. “Not to business, I hope. We’ll have to deal with all of that soon enough.”

  He made himself return her smile though it felt false. “Indeed. Today, we play. Did I mention that my buddy has a cabin cruiser...a small yacht? I thought we’d take her out for a spin.”

  “I’d love that,” she said, her enthusiasm infectious. “Now I know why you insisted we bring our beach bags.”

  He nodded. “I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t think you’d go for nude sunbathing, even in the middle of the ocean.”

  “Not enough sunscreen in the world for that,” she said, chuckling.

  They left the Jeep parked in a shady spot on a quiet side street and made their way to the marina on foot. The formalities were brief though thorough. Afterward they changed clothes in the public cabana-like restroom. Soon they were motoring their way out of the harbor at a snail’s pace, heading toward open water.

  Lisette shoved her hair up under a floppy cloth hat.

  “Better tie it,” he said. “Or the wind will snatch it away.”

  When he cleared the final no-wake sign, he opened the throttle. Lisette had chosen to sit at the bow of the boat with her face to the horizon. When the vessel picked up velocity, practically dancing over the water as if the craft were airborne, the wind snatched her laughter and carried it back to him where he stood at the wheel.

  He understood her response. It wasn’t humor. It was the sheer exhilaration of speed.

  For half an hour he ranged around the coastline. This vantage point gave them a new perspective. Antigua was a blue-and-green jewel dotted with white-sand beaches, 365 in all, or so the tourist bureau would have you believe.

  At last he cut the engine and let the craft bob on the open water.

  Lisette turned around. “Are you dropping anchor?”

  “No. Too deep. But we’re fine where we are. You want something to drink? Maybe you should get out of the sun for a little while. Your cute nose is turning pink.”

  She made her way back toward the rear of the boat, staggering once when a choppy wave slapped the hull. “Is get out of the sun code for fooling around? I’ve never had sex on a boat.”

  “Have a seat.” He handed her a water bottle, grinning. “I might be persuaded. Though I warn you, the bunks below are narrow.”

  Lisette drained the bottle and rested her head against the back of the cushioned banquette. “I could live like this,” she said, eyes closed, expression dreamy.

  He studied her intently, noting the way her white lacy cover-up billowed in the breeze, giving him tantalizing peeks of bare skin. “I never can decide which I like best—the flat-out exhilaration of speed or the challenge of battling the wind in a sailboat.”

  She peeked over her shoulder at the harbor in the distance. “Sailboats are beautiful. But I’d probably be one of those people who misjudges the boom and gets bumped into the water.”

  She stood and padded toward him in her bare feet, wrapping both arms around his waist. He folded her close. “I’d never let that happen to you, Lizzy.” He bent his head and kissed her lazily, enjoying the slow buzz of arousal, the perfect bliss of a summer afternoon.

  There wasn’t a cloud on the horizon. The only storms up ahead were the ones he faced personally. Holding her like this made him want to fight for his future. But what was the point? Trying to stave off the inevitable would only drag both of them through a painful, uncertain time.

  It was better to stay with the course he had chosen. Live each day to the fullest for as long as he had. He would love her and care for her the only way he knew how. And if a baby came from that love, perhaps the child would be a far more lasting legacy than a shipping business.

  When Lisette went downstairs to visit the head, Jonathan stared out to sea. For a brief moment, he flashed on a snippet of memory from his younger days. He and Hartley had been barely fifteen, thinking they ruled the world. A friend had offered them his sailboat for the afternoon.

  Both boys were experienced boaters, but a storm had blown up out of nowhere, turning the ocean into a raging beast. They had barely made it back into dock. The near miss had sobered them.

  Without Hartley by his side, Jonathan might have died.

  And now he was going to die without his twin anyway. The sharp pain in his chest was bittersweet. Holding onto anger was exhausting and pointless. He’d closed the book on Hartley months ago. He no longer had a brother.

  When Lisette reappeared, he shook off his melancholy. “You ready to move on?”

  She pretend-pouted, looking adorably sexy and playful. “I checked out those bunks. They’re not so bad.”

  His body tightened. “I’m listening.”

  He’d been keeping the boat in relatively the same orientation, idling the motor occasionally and adjusting their position relative to the island. But it wouldn’t hurt to drift briefly.

  Lisette took off her cover-up and swimsuit top. “A quickie to hold us over until we get back to the house? I’m pretty sure this is a bucket list item.”

  Her challenging smile was adorable. Did she really think he had any objections? Hell, no. The sight of her soft, full breasts—completely bare—dried his mouth.

  He shut off the engine and locked the wheel. “Five minutes,” he said. He scanned the horizon. “We’re all alone at the moment. No danger in sight.” Except his wife’s delectable body. “Down the steps, woman. I’m right behind you.”

  Lizzy started laughing when he tried to undress and slammed his elb
ow into a cabinet door. Pain shot up his arm, but he was undeterred.

  She shimmied out of her swimsuit bottom and scooted onto the nearest berth. The simple navy cotton comforter was covered with a white nautical print. The vision in front of him looked like some kind of erotic pinup girl from a sailor’s calendar.

  “Hurry up,” she said huskily. “You said five minutes.”

  Fast wasn’t going to be a problem. He was on a hair trigger. Suddenly he ground his jaw and kicked the side of the bunk, barely even flinching when his toes protested.

  Lisette’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

  “No condoms, damn it.”

  “Oh.” She pulled the covers over her naked body, clearly trying to mask her disappointment with a wobbly smile. “Then we’ll wait. No worries.”

  He fought a battle with himself. He couldn’t tell her how he felt. Not with his diagnosis. His love would be nothing more than a burden. There was one thing he could do, and that was give her the baby she wanted. It hurt like hell to think he wouldn’t know his own child. But it hurt even more to know he wouldn’t be able to love Lizzy the way she deserved.

  “Jonathan?” She lifted up on her elbows, a familiar pose. It made her look like temptation incarnate, though this time she kept the covers clutched to her chest.

  “Do you still want to get pregnant?” he asked bluntly.

  The color drained from her face and then rushed back in a flush of red that covered her cheeks and throat and everything else he could see. “Is that a serious question?”

  His arms hung at his sides, hands fisted. He was so hard he ached all the way from his balls to his teeth. “Completely.”

  Her smile was radiant, nearly knocking him on his ass with its voltage. “Yes, Jonathan. I do.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s do this.” His world shifted into a weird pinpoint focus. Time slowed. He levered himself onto the narrow berth alongside her, pausing to assess the situation. When he slipped a finger into her sex, she was ready for him. More than ready.

  His options were limited. This boat wasn’t built for Kama Sutra positions. Jonathan moved on top of his lover and entered her steadily. “Good God,” he whispered, fully reverent.

  She smoothed the hair from his damp forehead with a gentle caress. “What, Jonathan? Tell me.”

  He kissed her temple, her nose, her soft, perfect lips. “I’ve never been with a woman like this. Skin to skin.”

  Her gaze reflected the wonderment he felt. “I like it,” she confessed almost bashfully. “But you know it will take more than once.”

  “We’ll just have to work at it,” he groaned. “I’m game if you are.”

  She stroked his back, her fingernails digging into his flesh when he surged hard inside her. The little hiccupped moan she made inflamed him. In this most elemental joining, he felt his control slip far too soon. Hell. The additional stimulation without a manmade barrier dragged him deep into a place of drugged pleasure so dizzying he might never find his way back to the surface.

  His climax hit hard and went on forever, until he was drained. He slumped on top of his bride. Vaguely he remembered hearing her come.

  They were both covered in sweat. In the distance, the mournful cry of a seagull drew him back to consciousness.

  Grief hit him hard. He adored his bride and he didn’t want to give her up. Ever. How could he say goodbye to her? How could he imagine another man stepping in one day and living the life that was supposed to be Jonathan’s.

  How could he lose everything he cared about?

  He shifted to one side and cupped her cheek with his hand. “Did I crush you?”

  Her green eyes stared up at him, dazed. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow.” That about summed it up.

  He toyed with her navel. “I should probably make sure everything is okay on deck.”

  She nodded. “You do that. I’ll just stay here and reminisce.”

  “Brat.” He reached for his shirt and swim shorts and reluctantly abandoned her. Taking the ladder two rungs at a time, he vaulted upward.

  Nothing had changed. The sea still moved mysteriously beneath the hull. The sun continued to beam down with heat and passion.

  But, for Jonathan, everything had been upended. He was going to fight. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer when it came to pursuing other treatment options. And he was going pray like hell that his make-believe wife might fall in love with him for real.

  He wanted to tell Lizzy, to thank her for rescuing him from despair. To prove to her that he wanted to make their marriage real. A forever kind of deal. But something held him back. In business, he never rolled out a new initiative unless he had studied every angle.

  That’s how he would handle this new decision. No point in getting Lisette’s hopes up. It would only disappoint both of them if there really was no hope for his recovery.

  He started the engine and studied the radar. Good depth. No problems.

  When Lisette joined him, her smile was hard to read. It wasn’t smug, and it wasn’t jubilant.

  If anything, she seemed cautiously pleased. Come to think of it, that was a pretty damn good description of how he felt at the moment.

  She stood beside him and repaired her ponytail with practiced feminine movements. “Do we have plenty of gas?”

  He glanced at the gauge. “Yes. Why?”

  She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arm through his. “I want to go fast again.”

  His wife had a need for speed. He understood that desire perfectly. “All you had to do was ask.” As she released him and headed for the bow again, he raised his voice to be heard over the revving motor. “Promise me you’ll hold on to the rail. I don’t want to lose you.”

  She half turned, gazing at him over her shoulder, her expression mischievous. “You’re never going to lose me, Jonathan Tarleton. I’m yours until the last sunset. Now let’s get going. See if you can make me scream.”

  The taunting double entendre made him laugh. “Challenge accepted.”

  When he was sure she was settled with one hand clenched around the railing, he let the beast loose. He would never be careless with his passenger. He knew exactly how far he could push the nimble pleasure craft.

  The needles on all the dials quivered and moved to the right. His eyes stung even behind sunglasses. The wind in his face was surprisingly cold.

  He shouted at her. “More?”

  She nodded, lifting one hand and pointing at the sky.

  If he had his way, he would have taken Lizzy all the way beyond the horizon in search of a happy ending. Instead, he did the next best thing. He let her feel what it was like to fly.

  Seconds passed. Minutes. He was vigilant. Eagle-eyed. One wrong move could mean a collision with another craft. But he kept them just inside the edge of reason. It was exhilarating and cathartic and utterly perfect.

  He noted the rapidly dwindling fuel supply and realized that it was time to go back. One more minute. One more dose of immortality.

  Disaster struck without warning. A stabbing pain crushed the back of his right eye. His vision blurred. Anguished incredulity shook him. Please, God, no. Not now.

  Instinctively he backed off on the throttle. Too quickly, in fact. He stumbled and had to grab the counter for purchase. Lisette ended up in the floor of the boat, laughing. “You could have warned me,” she called out.

  He gripped the wheel, barely able to see. “Lizzy. I need you to come back here.”

  She waved him off. “I’m fine,” she said. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t that much of a bump. I’m not hurt.”

  Sweat poured down his back. The pain made him want to throw up. But that would scare her.

  Think, man, think.

  Slowly, stifling a groan, he reached for a water bottle and uncapped it. He tried a sip, but his stomach
rebelled. Instead, he poured it around his neck. His heart rate was in the stratosphere. Shock, no doubt.

  They were too far from shore. Too damned far.

  He raised his voice a second time. “Lizzy. I need you to come back here. Now. Please.”

  Fifteen

  Lisette’s head snapped around. Her stomach clenched in alarm. The note in Jonathan’s voice was so utterly unlike him she knew something was badly wrong. After leaping to her feet, she ran back to where he stood.

  “What is it?” she cried, panicked by his pallor. “What is it?” But she knew. Dear God in heaven, she knew.

  He was gritting his teeth, gray and shaking. “Something happened to my right eye.”

  “You’re in pain?”

  His brief hesitation was telling. “Yes. I can’t see much on that side.”

  She removed his sunglasses and put them in the cup holder on the dash. “Take my hand,” she said softly, speaking to him as she would a frightened child. “Sit down, Jonathan.”

  He slumped onto the bench seat, barely upright. “You’ll have to get us back in. I’ll help you with the boat.”

  “I don’t care about the damn boat,” she yelled, forgetting her bedside manner. Tears stung her eyes. “Tell me you have medicine with you, damn it. Tell me you do.”

  He nodded jerkily. “Foil packet. In my wallet. I can’t take both. They knock me out. The doctor gave them to me for emergencies.”

  Her hands were shaking as she riffled through the pockets of his windbreaker and found his billfold. Jonathan was in pain. She couldn’t bear it.

  At last she found the tablets and punched one through the foil. When she handed it over and offered him water, he managed to swallow the medicine with a grimace.

  “You feel sick, don’t you?” she said.

  “A little.” The lie was not even close to being believable.

  What would they do if he couldn’t keep the pills down? “Don’t move for a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” He slid until he was on his back with one arm flung across his eyes. The canopy protected them from the sun.

  Suddenly she realized that the motor was still puttering at low speed. Instead of asking Jonathan, she studied the dashboard, located the appropriate controls and shut off the engine.