“We can’t do that again,” she said, effectively snapping him right out of his private fantasies.
Scowling, he shifted position, trying to ease the pressure in his slacks a little. No good. Shaking his head, he tried to lighten the mood, softening the images still racing through his mind.
“Sure we can,” Sean countered, moving a little closer to her. “Kissing’s not sex.”
“It is the way you do it,” she murmured.
He grinned even as his body tightened further. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Sean said and stepped in front of her, putting her back against the railing. Her gaze darted to one side as if she didn’t quite trust herself to look into his eyes. And Sean didn’t want her uneasy. He wanted her soft and pliant and enthusiastic—as she had been during that amazing kiss.
His voice soft, his words careful, he said, “It was just a kiss, Melinda. It won’t go anywhere else unless you want it to.”
“I don’t,” she said immediately, turning her eyes back to his. “I can’t.”
“Then we won’t go any further. But a kiss, Melinda, that’s a safe zone. Just because we won’t do anything else doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves a little.”
She chewed at her bottom lip, indecision rife on her face.
“Maybe it wasn’t as good as we think it was,” he said, lifting one hand to trace the tips of his fingers along her jawline. “Maybe we were both just taken by surprise and read too much into it. Maybe we should test that theory.”
“I don’t think…”
“Good idea,” he murmured, his gaze moving over her features like a starving man seeing a banquet spread out in front of him. “Don’t think.”
He bent and took her mouth again. This time he was hungrier than before because this time, he knew what he would find. Knew the taste of her, the feel of her. This time when she moved into him and parted her lips for his tongue, he was prepared for the jolt of heat that nearly staggered him.
He rushed toward the edge of his already tattered control. She was warm and luscious and her passion fired his own. Kissing her before had been a revelation. Kissing her this time was a confirmation of everything he had experienced earlier. The feel of her lips, the taste of her tongue, her sweet breath sighing into him all gathered into a tight ball of lust that seemed to grow with every passing second. He couldn’t ease back, though he knew he should.
This hadn’t been part of the deal. This instantaneous explosion of need was like nothing he had ever known before. If he had felt like this with anyone else, he’d have taken her to bed and kept her there until the heat between them burned out. But that wasn’t an option and damned if he knew what to do about it.
While his body raged, firing into desire, his mind shouted for caution. Control. He had given his word. And he would keep it, he assured himself as he delved deeper into her mouth, taking all she offered, giving her all he had. But for now, this moment, he needed what they’d found together.
He jerked her in closer, his arms coming around her like steel bands. Her breasts pressed to his chest, he felt the wild racing of her heart and knew…knew…that she was feeling everything he was.
That knowledge gave him silent permission to feel more. He swept one hand to the zipper at the back of her gown and when she moaned into his mouth, he pulled that zipper down. An inch. Two inches. Just enough to loosen the bodice of her gown so that he could…
He gently lowered the top of her dress to bare her breasts. Then he tore his mouth from hers and bent to take first one pebbled, rose-colored nipple and then the other into his mouth.
She sucked in a gulp of air and shivered in reaction. Her voice was hardly more than a hush as she cried, “Sean!”
His chest tightened, his groin was so hard and heavy he winced from the pain, but didn’t stop what he was doing. Couldn’t stop. He reveled in her every gasp and sigh. Gloried in the taste and feel of her nipples in his mouth. He ran the edges of his teeth across those sensitive tips and felt her tremble.
Melinda’s hands gripped his shoulders as she arched into him, offering him easier access. He took it. With one hand, he caressed and tweaked one nipple while his mouth and tongue and teeth tormented the other. He felt as though he could never touch her enough. Desire ratcheted up inside him. Hunger gnawed at him and his body ached for completion.
Moonlight played across her skin and the murmur of voices and the muted strains of music coming from the ballroom behind them became nothing more than a vaguely acknowledged distraction from what was most important. The heat sweeping from her body to his and back again.
Sean felt her sighs ripple through her and straight into him. She shivered, and he knew it was his touch, not the cool breeze, that was affecting her. Her fingers combed through his hair as she held his head to her breasts. Every gentle scrape of her nails against his scalp sent electrical buzzes through his brain, his body.
He’d never wanted any woman the way he wanted Melinda Stanford…King.
That thought jolted him out of the haze of desire fogging his mind. She was his wife. The wife he’d promised to leave the hell alone. And he was practically taking her here on a balcony with her damn grandfather in the next room.
Muffling a tight groan, he called on the self-control he had been honing all of his life and reluctantly pulled away from her. He straightened up and then reached behind her to zip up her dress. When he was finished, he caged her between his arms as he leaned on the balcony trying to catch his breath and convince his dick that it wasn’t about to explode in frustration.
“Sean?”
He looked into her eyes, and they were glazed, confused and so damned sexy he wanted to throw away his own stupid sense of honor and do what they both wanted to do. But he wouldn’t.
Not yet, anyway. Not until she’d released him from the damn vow.
Her hands dropped to his shoulders and held on as if she were unsure of her balance and standing alone. He understood that completely. His own legs were a little shaky, which was lowering to admit. Hell, he’d never been so…rattled by a woman.
“Sean, that was—”
“Melinda,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, “a couple more minutes of this and…”
“Oh. Oh.” She pulled in a long, shuddering breath and nodded slowly. “I can’t believe we just—”
“Yeah well,” he whispered with a rueful smile, “it’s been a long day.”
She laughed a little brokenly and the sound wrenched at something inside him. “I shouldn’t have—I can’t believe I let you—wanted you to—”
Sean eased back and cupped her face in his palms. “Melinda, it’s no big deal.” Liar, his brain shouted, but he ignored it. “We’re married, right? We kissed. We—” He let her go, and shoved both hands through his hair. “Just, don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”
“Sean, there’s something you should know.”
He waited and a moment later, she spoke again.
“I was engaged once. My fiancé, Steven Hardesty, died in a car accident here on the island more than a year ago.”
Her gaze was filled with regret, old pain and the shadows of guilt. Only a few seconds ago, desire had been churning through his veins like lava. In one flashing instant, it was gone. In the very next heartbeat, it was replaced by anger.
“Steven?”
She nodded miserably, letting her gaze slide away from his. “He died and I—”
“What?” Sean demanded, turning her face back to his. “Needed to find someone to scratch your itch?”
“What?”
“Why else am I here?”
“Oh please,” she said, misery in her eyes sliding away to show him that she too had a temper. “You know exactly why you’re here. We have a deal.”
“Yeah?” He just looked at her. “Deal or not, you didn’t seem to be giving much thought to good ol’ Steven a minute ago.”<
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“You—” Her jaw snapped shut on whatever else she might have said. She settled for giving him a glare that should have set fire to his hair.
“You said you weren’t interested in romance. Why?” Sean demanded, keeping his voice low, ever mindful of the room full of wedding guests right behind them. “After Steven died you went into proverbial hiding? Tucked your heart into a box and buried it with him, is that it?”
“You don’t understand,” she countered and a flash of anger that matched his glittered briefly in her eyes.
“Oh, I understand more than you think,” Sean told her. He fought the churning sense of outrage and anger, but damned if he could conquer it completely. He snorted in disbelief at this whole situation. Melinda had researched him. Seems he should have done some of that himself. “So it wasn’t all a business deal at all. I’m a damn substitute for the late, great Steven.”
“Don’t talk about him like that.”
“Why not?” Sean argued. “I’m his stand-in. Who better?”
She whipped her hair out of her face and glared up at him. “You’re not a replacement for Steven. I told you I loved him.”
Her vehemence hit him harder than it should have, he knew. But there was no denying what he was feeling. God, he was an idiot for walking into this so damn blindly. All he’d been able to think about was making the deal. Getting the land. Helping the Kings to win one more time.
If he’d known she was mourning some other guy, he never would have done this. It would have felt too messy to touch.
“I don’t get why you’re so upset,” she muttered, scraping her hands up and down her arms as if chilled to the bone in the soft tropical breeze.
“I don’t like being lied to. Or manipulated,” Sean said flatly. “Call it a flaw.”
“I didn’t manipulate you,” she snapped. “We had a deal. And no sex was part of it—yet just a minute ago, you had my breasts in your mouth, trying to manipulate me into bed. So who’s the guilty one here?”
Okay, that he wasn’t going to take. Sean had never tricked or forced a woman into his bed in his life. And he never would. Now his wife stood there looking down at him like an avenging angel of chastity? And he was supposed to feel what? Guilty?
“Oh, I don’t think so, honey,” he murmured, his voice as soft as his anger was hot. Reaching out for her, he trailed his fingertips along her arms and watched her involuntary shiver in response. “You can convince yourself of whatever you have to, but we both know there was no manipulation here. You liked my touch. You still want my touch…”
“No…”
“Oh yeah,” Sean said, forcing a smile that cost him every ounce of will he possessed. “You do. A couple minutes ago, you were sighing and moaning and enjoying every touch and lick and—”
“Stop it.”
Sean shook his head. “Not a chance. You want to pretend to yourself? Go ahead. But we both know that a couple more minutes of what we were doing and your whole no-sex vow would have been tossed out a window. I’m the one who stopped, remember? I’m the one who pulled back.”
“I was just about to—”
“Forget it. Sell it to someone who doesn’t have the imprint of your fingernails on his scalp.”
She flushed and even in the pale wash of moonlight, Sean saw her skin pinken. Embarrassment? Shame? Regret? Who the hell knew?
“You might want to pretend that you’re not interested in living anymore,” Sean said, bending low enough that his mouth was just a breath away from hers. “But your body didn’t get the message. It’s still alive and right now, it’s hungering—just like mine is.”
She lifted both hands and shoved at his chest. He stepped back in response—not because he had to but because he could see she needed the space. And hell, so did he.
“You’re wrong.”
“No,” he said. “I’m really not. But you tell yourself whatever you have to.”
Neither of them spoke and the sounds of the party seemed to grow to fill the tense silence between them. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime or two, Melinda said, “I don’t think I can go back into the reception. I’m going to go up to the suite.”
“Fine.” Sean moved back to the balcony and hands on the rail, stared out at the moon-washed darkness.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
He turned his head to look at her and as much as he hated to admit it, a part of him wanted to comfort her. She looked a little…lost. But he shut down his soft and cuddly side in favor of nursing his righteous indignation awhile longer. “I’m going to get a drink.”
“I meant—” She broke off and blew out a breath. “I meant, will you still honor our deal? Will you be coming up to the suite?”
Up to the penthouse suite where they would both be staying for the length of their marriage. Living with her, being near her and not touching her. For one split second, he considered calling the whole damn thing off. But he was pissed, not stupid. And he didn’t go back on his word. Not even when he was sorely tempted to.
“Yeah,” he said, watching her with a jaundiced eye. She was beautiful but dangerous. Wounded but sneaky. After a second or two pause, he said, “No worries. I’ll play my part, Melinda. I’ll be every bit the husband Steven would have been.”
Six
“He said that?” Kathy took a sip of her iced tea and reached for a cookie.
Melinda broke a cookie into tiny pieces and then broke those pieces into crumbs before she answered. It was two days since her wedding and she hadn’t spoken to Sean beyond the vague “Good morning” since she’d left him on the balcony that night.
She was miserable and tired and confused, damn it.
She could still see the look in Sean’s eyes when he spoke to her last. That flash of fury mingled with the remaining glitter of desire. And the worse part? She still wanted him.
“Yep,” she finally said. “He’ll be the husband Steven would have been. He was furious.”
“Well, duh.”
Her gaze snapped up to her friend’s. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, sweetie,” Kathy soothed, patting her hand briefly. “But I can see why he was mad.”
“Well, I don’t.” Melinda folded her arms over her chest and glowered quietly.
“Yeah, you can,” Kathy said with a short laugh. “You lied to him.”
“I didn’t lie, exactly.”
“You just didn’t tell him about Steven.”
“He didn’t need to know.” She shifted her gaze to the harbor where several fishing skiffs were headed back to shore. A few kids were running along the pier, laughing, throwing bread to seagulls. For Tesoro, life went on.
“Seems like he did,” Kathy said and Melinda looked at her. “No man wants to think he’s taking the place of some other guy. And please. A King?”
“Sean said the same thing, but he’s not taking Steven’s place. No one could.”
Kathy sighed heavily, but Melinda ignored it. She’d never understood her friend’s dislike of Steven and Kathy had never wanted to talk about it. Now, Melinda didn’t care to understand. It didn’t matter anymore. Steven was gone, and she was married to someone else.
“So, one thing you didn’t tell me,” Kathy said.
“What?”
“The big make-out scene on the balcony…how was it?”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Great,” Melinda admitted with another long sigh. “Amazing. Incredible.”
“Ah.” Kathy smiled knowingly.
“Exactly! How can I feel that way about anyone else?”
“Honey.” Kathy’s voice was a little less patient now. “You’re alive. Why shouldn’t you feel alive?”
She shook her head and looked back at the water, letting her gaze soften, her vision blur until the scene before her became nothing more than a wash of indistinct color. She couldn’t let herself feel anything for Sean.
That would mean that she had let Steven go, and s
he had promised herself that their love was forever. She couldn’t turn her back on Steven’s memories. No matter what Sean King made her feel. He would be gone in two months. Steven’s memory would last forever. The only thing she could give her late fiancé now was her loyalty.
She owed him that, didn’t she?
“Tell your grandfather I’ll have those strawberries he likes by next weekend.”
“I will, thanks Sallye,” Melinda said, giving the woman behind the counter a smile.
This early in the morning, there were only a handful of people at the outdoor produce stand. Melinda knew most of them and nodded greetings as she wandered back out to the dirt track where her car was parked.
She stepped out from under the canvas ceiling into the sunlight and tipped her face up to the cloud-filled sky. Then she looked out across the coast road at the ocean. There were a few fishing boats, a couple of pleasure craft and seagulls wheeling and diving in the air, looking for breakfast.
“Just another day in paradise,” she murmured with a wistful smile, wishing her heart didn’t feel like a lead ball in the center of her chest.
She usually enjoyed being up this early. But being awake because you hadn’t been able to fall asleep was a whole different thing. She hadn’t slept more than two hours at a stretch since she got married. Glancing down at the ring on her left finger, she sighed as the stones winked at her in the morning light.
It wasn’t supposed to have been like this, she thought. Her faux marriage should have been well, easy. Turns out, it was anything but.
During the days since the wedding, Melinda had just been going through the motions. In front of people, she played the happy newlywed. In private, she survived an uneasy truce with her new husband. Sean was painfully polite and distant, and she wished he’d just yell at her again. Then at least they’d be talking.
“Because your last talk went so well,” she muttered.
She lifted her chin in silent defiance as the memory of her wedding night rushed into her mind. After leaving Sean on the balcony, she’d headed straight for the penthouse suite that had been hers since she left college. She had showered and changed into a nightgown and then had lain in bed…waiting.
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