The Temporary Mrs. King

by Maureen Child

  Sean grinned. “I love convincing a skeptic.”

  He headed close enough to shore that they could stand, but the clear, beautiful water was still deep enough to tease the tops of her breasts. Then he slid his hands down her slick body, loving the sighs that slipped from her throat.

  He cupped her center, and she moved against him, parting her thighs for him, giving him easier access. Her eyes closed and a smile curved her mouth as he stroked her. Sean’s own heartbeat thudded painfully in his chest as he watched her ride another wave of pleasure. And when she called his name, he took her mouth again, swallowing that sound and all the others that would follow.

  Yeah, he thought wryly, just before his mind shut down, caught in his own trap.

  “This is where you burned yourself?” Sean asked an hour later as they stood in the hallway outside a junior suite at the hotel. “What? You a closet arsonist?”

  Melinda smiled and shook her head. It was weird, but she’d never felt so tired and so wired all at the same time before. They had spent most of the day out on the water, and just thinking about what they’d done had her stifling a sigh of satisfaction. If that storm hadn’t blown in, she thought wistfully, they might have still been out there.

  “No, not an arsonist,” she said on a laugh. Melinda swiped her key card then turned the knob and opened the door to her workroom.

  She had never invited anyone into what she thought of as her own private space before. Sean was the first. Ever. Not even Steven had been here. But then, he had never shown any interest in seeing it. Frowning, she realized that Steven had never really even wanted to hear about what she was doing. Or working on. And why was she suddenly having all of these negative thoughts about the man she had been planning to marry? Then she thought briefly about the day she had just spent with Sean, and a tingle of guilt zipped through her. Shaking her head, she stepped into the room, hit the light switch and moved back so Sean could walk past her.

  In the middle of the room, he stopped short and did a slow, amazed turn, gaze sweeping across the worktables, the bowls of gems and the glass case filled with finished pieces. “What the—”

  “I make jewelry,” she said, closing the door and walking to where her latest designs were tucked safely away.

  “Yeah,” he said on a laugh. “I guess you do.”

  He followed her and waited while she opened the case and drew out a velvet-covered pallet filled with jewelry she had designed and created right here in this room.

  “I work with gold and sterling silver mostly,” she was saying as Sean picked up first a ring, then a pin in the shape of a butterfly. When he moved on to a necklace made of slender threads of gold and topazes draped to hang like tears, she said, “That one is a gift for Kathy’s birthday.”

  “It’s incredible,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers.

  “Thank you.” A real smile split her face as she read the sincerity in his gaze. She pulled out another tray of rings and said, “These are destined for the jewelry shop in town. I sell them there.”

  “You sell—” he stopped, reached across the glass case and caught her left hand in his. Rubbing his thumb across the wedding band he had given her, he asked with a chuckle, “So basically, I bought you a ring that you made.”

  “Well, yes.” She looked down at her hand in his. “And you couldn’t have pleased me more. You bought it because you liked it.”

  “It’s beautiful, that’s why.”

  “Well, you have great taste,” she said with a quick smile.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think so.”

  He released her hand, and Melinda missed his touch. She watched him look around the rest of the room. “You do amazing work, Melinda. But you sell your stuff way too cheaply. You’re an artist. You should be famous. Selling to Tiffany or something.”

  Melinda laughed and felt a swell of pride. Except for Kathy, no one had ever really complimented her work. Sure, she knew it was good. James Noble never had any trouble selling the pieces she took to him. But somehow it was different, and meant more, hearing Sean calling her an artist.

  As she put the trays back in the glass case and closed the doors, she said, “That’s one of the reasons I wanted my trust fund so badly. I want to try to expand. Get myself a real workshop set up here on the island. Maybe find a contact or two through our guests and do what I can to get my jewelry some recognition.”

  He shook his head as he inspected the neatly laid out and well-organized worktables. “I don’t get it. Why is your stuff only sold in the one store in town? If nothing else, your grandfather could carry it in the hotel gift shop.”

  Melinda shrugged sadly. “Grandfather doesn’t entirely approve of me working.”

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “He’s old-fashioned—hence the whole get-married-and-be-safe thing. But in his defense,” she said, “I think he was also worried that my work wouldn’t be good enough. That I’d try to sell my stuff and fail and be hurt by rejection.”

  “No chance of that,” Sean murmured.

  “I hate to keep saying thank you, but—”

  He cut her off with a quick change of subject. “So now that we’re married, you’ll get the trust fund and what? Leave Tesoro? Move to the big city and take up jewelry design full-time?”

  “No.” She shook her head firmly. That’s the one thing she was absolutely sure of. “I don’t want to leave. This is home. And, after all, it is the only place in the world that I can get the Tesoro Topaz.”

  “There is that.” He looked around again before turning his gaze back to her. “So basically, the trust fund is freedom to follow your own heart. Do what you want to do most.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then it was worth getting married,” Sean said with a slow smile.

  “I’d say so.” Something inside her spun and trembled as he walked toward her with lazy, measured steps.

  When he was beside her, he lifted her hand, looked at the burn and asked, “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

  The look in his eyes promised more of what they’d shared earlier on the boat. She shouldn’t want him again. Her body should be sated and happy and perfectly content. Yet, there was still a hunger inside her that she suddenly feared would never really be gone.

  Just a few more weeks and this marriage would be over. She’d have her trust fund. Her business. She’d be independent and on her own and why did that all sound so…lonely?

  Sean was smiling down at her, his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her close, and Melinda made a conscious decision to stop thinking about the future. To accept today and revel in it.

  The truth was, there was nothing she wanted more than to christen her workshop with the birth of memories that would be with her long after Sean had gone back to his own life.

  Dinner with her grandfather went well.

  Of course, Sean had a hell of a time tearing his gaze away from Melinda long enough to concentrate on what Walter had to say. But then he had caught the older man looking at him with a knowing smile, and he figured Walter understood exactly what Sean was feeling.

  Too bad he had the wrong idea about all of this.

  Walter didn’t know that this was all temporary. That the marriage was a sham. There he sat, pleased for his granddaughter and all the while, Sean felt like some kind of rat-snake for deliberately lying to the man.

  He gritted his teeth and told himself silently to suck it up. He had voluntarily signed on for this little game, and he didn’t have the right to bitch about it now. But it went against the grain, damned if it didn’t.

  He shifted another look at Melinda, and she smiled at him from her end of the table. A curl of heat whipped through his belly, and Sean’s mind instantly dredged up an image of him and Melinda, naked in the crystalline water, with nothing but the sand and the sea for miles around.

  And just like that, he was ready to toss her over his shoulder and carry her to the nearest bed. He smirked a little at the realization that the
one place he hadn’t had Melinda was a damn bed. Though the boat, he told himself, had been an amazing experience.

  “What did you think of the boat?” Walter asked suddenly and Sean jolted—grateful as hell the old man couldn’t read minds.

  “It’s a beauty.” Sean took a sip of his after-dinner coffee. “I can’t remember ever having that much fun on the water before.”

  Melinda flushed. In the candlelight, she looked luminous, and Sean smiled a little watching her embarrassment.

  “Glad to hear it,” Walter said. “I don’t get out on the boat much anymore. I’m happy to know you’re getting some use out of it.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to take her out again soon.”

  “Anytime,” Walter assured him.

  Melinda took a long drink of her wine.

  Smiling, Sean said, “I spoke with my brothers the other day. The cargo and some of our crew will be arriving next week. We’ll be ready to start on the hotel construction soon.”

  “Wonderful.” Walter nodded thoughtfully. “A lot of people on Tesoro are excited about it.”

  “What about you, Walter?” Sean asked quietly. “How do you feel about it?”

  The older man took a long breath and thought about it for a moment or two. Then he smiled. “I’m looking forward to it. Change can be a good thing. Keeps a man young. Interested in the world around him.”

  “You’ll always be young, Grandfather.” Melinda reached out and squeezed his hand.

  “Hah!” Walter winked at Sean. “See that? How she sneaks into my heart so easily? She’s always known exactly what to say.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. Noticing the burn, he frowned. “You are not being careful, Corazon.”

  “Corazon?” Sean asked. “That’s the name of your boat.”

  “So it is. It means ‘heart’ in Spanish and that is what Melinda is to me. My heart.” Fixing his steely gaze on her, he added, “And when she is not being careful, she worries me.”

  “Me, too.” Sean looked at her and saw her scowl briefly.

  “So the two of you are going to gang up on me?”

  “That’s what family’s for,” Sean said.

  “Hmm.”

  “She’s shown you her workroom?” Walter asked.

  “She did. This afternoon.” Sean looked at her. “She does incredibly beautiful work.”

  “It’s a nice hobby,” Walter agreed pleasantly.

  Melinda rolled her eyes, and Sean hid a smile. Odd that despite the fact that the older man loved his granddaughter deeply, he had no idea what was in her heart. Her soul. That he could dismiss artistry as a “hobby” was insulting. But clearly, neither Walter nor Melinda saw it like that.

  “Oh,” the man said, “I meant to tell you this before. If you need a place for your workmen to stay, I have another, smaller hotel not far from here. It’s not fancy, but I’m sure your men would be comfortable.”

  “We appreciate that,” Sean said. “Melinda was telling me that you once thought to build on that lot.”

  “I did.” The older man sat back in his chair and lifted his coffee cup. “But when I lost my wife and Melinda’s parents, I decided to stay in the hotel. A man raising a child alone needs all the help he can get, I’m not ashamed to say.” He glanced at Melinda, and she gave her grandfather a smile. “She was treated like a princess by everyone here.”

  “I can see why.”

  Walter gave Sean a proud smile. “I’m glad you see what I do when I look at her.”

  He saw all of that and a lot more, Sean thought. Which was beginning to worry him. Somehow, the seduction of Melinda was working in the opposite way, too. He was being seduced right along with her, and he was going to have to find a way to pull back.

  Or the end of this temporary marriage could get very messy.

  “Okay, that’s enough of the wonders of Melinda stories,” she announced suddenly and stood up. “I’m going upstairs. You two behave yourselves.”

  “You do look tired,” her grandfather said. “Probably too much sun.”

  She flicked Sean a glance. “Yes, that’s probably it.”

  And all of the sex, Sean thought.

  He watched her go and as she left the room, Walter leaned over and said, “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, she is.” Sean looked over at the older man. “But she doesn’t know your hotel’s in trouble, does she?”

  Walter pursed his lips, tapped his fingers against the table and finally heaved a long sigh. “You’re too clever, Sean. How did you guess?”

  “Little things,” he said quietly. “Chipped paint. Frayed drapes. The bar’s understaffed and the main dining room only serves lunch and dinner. When a business starts making cuts, letting the small things slide, there’s usually a reason.”

  Nodding, Walter smiled ruefully. “So there is. But to answer your earlier question, no. Melinda doesn’t know. And now that you have guessed the truth, I will expect you to keep my secret.”

  Sean didn’t get that. This family had more secrets going on. Melinda wouldn’t let her grandfather know about the marriage deal. He didn’t want her to know that he needed money. She didn’t talk about Steven and the old man seemed no different.

  Way different than his family, boy. With the Kings, there were almost never secrets because no one shut up long enough to keep one. It was much easier to just argue about what was bugging you, get it out in the open, maybe punch your brother in the face and then let it all go.

  Of course, Sean thought, he had been keeping a secret from his brothers for years. His first marriage. And suddenly, he wondered why the hell he hadn’t told them. To save himself embarrassment? To avoid the shouting? Stupid to keep things from family. Especially his family.

  “No disrespect intended, Walter,” Sean said carefully. “But lying to her? Not the best idea.”

  “Ah,” the older man said with a wink. “Soon, there will be no reason for lies of any kind. The sale of that land to your family will take care of the problem. I’ll be remodeling the hotel—can’t have your cousin getting all of the new guests—and there’ll be nothing to tell Melinda.”

  “I sort of thought you might want to retire,” Sean said, surprised at the old man’s willingness to stay in the hotel game and battle the Kings for guests.

  “Retire?” His eyes widened in surprise. “That’s for old people. What would I do all day? No. You’ll see. My way is better. Melinda will get her trust fund, the hotel will be remodeled and everyone will live happily ever after.”

  “Here in Brigadoon,” Sean muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” Sean said and listened as Walter talked about his plans for the remodel. But even as the old man spoke, Sean’s mind was upstairs with Melinda.

  These last couple of weeks with her had been great. And today…put a whole new spin on the word amazing. But this marriage had an expiration date and it was fast coming up.

  Which left him to wonder what the hell he was going to do when their time together was over and he was still on the island taking care of business. Were they just supposed to nod and smile at each other as they passed on the street? Was he supposed to pretend he didn’t want her?

  Walter’s voice became nothing more than a buzz in Sean’s mind. Background noise for the thoughts tumbling through his brain. He was getting wound up tighter and tighter in Melinda’s life. Her world.

  This hadn’t been part of the plan. He didn’t belong here on Tesoro. His life was back in California. His home was there. His family. This tiny tropical island wasn’t the real world. Not for him. Melinda wasn’t for him either. He knew that.

  And yet…

  This was getting more and more complicated, and the worst part was, his brothers had been right. He never should have gone along with Melinda’s scheme.

  Because now that he was in, he wasn’t sure he wanted out.

  Ten

  Sean left Walter a half hour later and took the elevator to the penthouse. H
is insides were twisted into knots and he couldn’t form a single, coherent thought, but one thing came through loud and clear.

  He wanted to see Melinda. Be with her.

  For as long as he could.

  Upstairs, Sean looked forward to finally getting off that damned sofa and sleeping in a bed. With Melinda. It had been a hell of a long day, and he should be beat. But the truth was, he felt charged. Just being around her made him feel more…alive than he ever had before. And if he was smart, he’d be worried about that, he thought. Instead, he looked forward to touching her again.

  He heard her sobs the moment he opened the door. Panic grabbed the base of his throat. He slammed the door and followed the heartbreaking sounds of her crying. He’d never been in her bedroom and hardly noticed it now. All he saw was moonlight sliding through the open curtains and Melinda, sitting on the floor. Back against the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, she was staring at a framed photograph and crying as if her heart was broken.

  Everything in him tightened into a hot ball of protective instinct that flashed inside him like lightning. Her tears were like a knife in his chest, pain ripped at him. In the space of a split second, he’d gone from a self-satisfied male about to get lucky to a man desperate to find whoever was making Melinda cry and beat the crap out of him.

  Sean stalked across the room in a few long strides, went down on one knee beside her and said, “What is it? What’s wrong, Melinda?”

  She shook her head violently. Tears still poured from her beautiful eyes and her mouth was screwed up tight as if she were biting back the urge to wail.

  He cupped her face in his palms and turned it up to him. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s happened.”

  “I shouldn’t have,” she said and gulped in a breath. “I didn’t mean to. But I did and now…”

  “What’re you talking about?” He looked at the photo she held so tightly and guessed instantly what was going on. The smiling face of a handsome man with too many teeth looked back at him, and Sean knew without a doubt that this was Steven.

  Frustrated by his inability to fix this, he blew out a breath and muttered, “Damn it, Melinda, don’t do this to yourself.”