“How can I not? I was going to marry him,” she said, her voice a painful hush that scraped at his heart. “I loved him and today I—”
“Melinda—”
“No,” she shook her head again, clearly furious with herself. “It’s like I cheated on him. Not just because of the sex but because I enjoyed it.”
Those protective instincts that had sent him racing to her side reared up inside him, stronger than ever, and put a stranglehold on the frustration pumping through him. He hated seeing her like this. Hated knowing that he’d pushed her here. That his plan to seduce her had left her feeling such misery.
Guilt was an ugly emotion. No one knew that better than Sean, he thought grimly. But this wasn’t about him. This was about Melinda, and damned if he’d let her regret what had happened between them.
“It’s okay to feel, Melinda,” he said softly, shifting to sit beside her. “You’re alive. You’re supposed to live.”
She sighed heavily. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand plenty. I know all about guilt,” he said softly, dropping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to his side. She resisted at first, then slowly crumpled into him. He rubbed her upper arm in slow, comforting strokes. “Guilt will kill you an inch at a time until there’s nothing left of you, Melinda. It’s not worth it.”
“Tell me.” Her voice was a whisper against the curve of his neck. She cuddled closer as if needing the contact, and if Sean was going to tell this story, then he figured he’d need it too.
It was something he hadn’t thought about in years. Purposefully. And it was a story he had told only to his father. So once again, he thought, he was sharing things with Melinda that he never shared with anyone.
“You know how I said I lived in Vegas until I was sixteen?”
She nodded.
“That’s because at sixteen,” he said, in a voice detached from feeling, “I was finally big enough, strong enough, to beat the crap out of my mother’s boyfriend.”
“Sean—” She snaked an arm around his middle and held him.
He was grateful and tightened his hold on her in response. The years fell away easily and he was back in that miserable apartment in Vegas.
“The air-conditioning was broken, as usual,” he said, his voice soft and reluctant, as he mentally went back to a time he wished to hell he could forget. “It was so damn hot, it felt as if every breath I took was setting fire to my lungs.”
He paused and said, “Eric, Mom’s boyfriend, was a big guy with what you could say was anger-management issues.” He smiled tightly at the understatement. “He’d been beating on my mother for a couple of years. She always threw him out, and she always took him back. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”
God, he remembered the frustration, the fury that used to claw at his throat. He’d ached to be big enough that he could finally defend his mother. Take care of her.
And at last, that day came.
“He hit her again on my sixteenth birthday, and I hit him back.”
Melinda said nothing, and he didn’t look down at her, not wanting to see what was in her face. Pity? Revulsion? Didn’t think he could take either one. So he kept his gaze fixed on the wall opposite and let his memories dredge up the images.
“He went down, and I think I was as surprised as he was,” Sean admitted. And through the prism of time, he remembered seeing the bastard stare up at him out of eyes glittering with fury and fear.
“But like most bullies, he didn’t like being hit as much as he enjoyed being the one doing the hitting. So he just laid there on the floor, staring up at me like I had grown two heads.
“Mom was there too, and her latest black eye was just starting to bloom on her face.” He laughed shortly. “I was so damn proud of myself that I looked to her expecting to see a little hero worship.”
“What happened?” Melinda whispered.
Sean took a breath and said flatly, “She dropped to her knees beside Eric and shouted at me to get out.”
“What?”
He smiled a little at the outrage in her voice, but he still didn’t turn his gaze on her. Didn’t quite trust himself to finish this sordid little tale if he was looking at Melinda.
“Eric pushed away from her and headed out the front door, cursing and stumbling a little, which I admit, made me feel good in spite of everything. Mom chased after him,” Sean added. “But before she left she told me to leave and that she never wanted to see me again.”
“She was wrong,” Melinda said, pulling out of his grip to turn and look at him.
He couldn’t avoid staring into her eyes, and he noticed the fierce, righteous indignation shining in those blue depths. She was infuriated on his behalf, and Sean appreciated it. But the story was old and long since over.
“Doesn’t matter anymore,” he assured her, though the dark spot in a corner of his heart still burned with the memory.
Even now, so many years later, he could remember the look on his mother’s face. And just like every time the memory sneaked up on him, he tried to put a name to the expression she wore as she looked at him. Disgust? Fury? Hatred? The last bruise on her cheek was a mass of green and yellow streaks, visible even beneath her carefully applied makeup. And still, she had defended the bastard.
In his mind, Sean could hear her voice.
“He loved me. He took care of me. You had no right. You’re just like your father, out for yourself and screw everybody else.”
“Where did you go?” Melinda’s voice again, tearing him from the past and grounding him in the present.
He leaned his head back against the bed. “I called my dad. He sent a King jet for me, and I went to live with him.”
“Well thank God for your father, anyway.”
Sean chuckled. “Not too many people have ever said that about Ben King.”
“Well I am. Your mom was wrong, Sean.”
“Maybe. But because of what I did, I never saw her again,” he said, his gaze locked on hers. “She died a few years later.”
“Did Eric—”
“No,” he answered quickly. “Car accident on the strip. Some tourist ran her down one night.”
“I’m sorry, Sean. So sorry.” Her features were a mask of sympathy and fury for what he’d gone through. But Melinda wasn’t finished. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about what you did. It was right.”
He looked at her then and saw the fierceness in her eyes. All directed at easing his pain, and something inside him tightened another notch. She was the first person, other than his brothers, to care about what he was feeling. To try to make it better. Warmth stole through him, and Sean realized that talking about the past had actually distanced him from it as he had never been able to do before. He felt…freer than he had in a very long time.
He was walking a thinner and thinner line every damn day with Melinda. He knew it. He felt it. But damned if he could pull away.
“And you shouldn’t feel guilty about today,” he said quietly. “It’s okay to be alive, you know.”
She stroked her fingertips along his cheek with a featherlight touch. He caught her hand and turned his face to plant a kiss in the center of her palm. “Let go of the guilt, Melinda. Trust me when I say holding onto it will tear you apart.”
As he watched, she glanced down at the photo she still held in one hand. Sean looked at the framed picture too and knew without a doubt that he hated Steven Hardesty. And no way would he let her turn her back on a life for the sake of a dead man.
Deliberately, he took the picture from her and set it facedown on the bedside table. “Steven’s gone, Melinda.”
She took a long, shuddering breath and let it out again. “I know.”
“Would he want you to be miserable forever?”
“No.”
“Then let him go. Be with me.” He tipped her chin up so her eyes, red-rimmed from crying and pain, were focused on him. “I’m safe, Melinda. I’m the rebound guy. I’m te
mporary.” His fingers smoothed away the last of her tears, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Use me to heal your heart, Melinda. I won’t be here long. We both know that. There’s no complications here. I don’t want anything from you.”
Okay, yes, he was being a little self-serving, he told himself. Because he did want Melinda more than his next gulp of air. But it was also true. He wouldn’t be staying with her. And if he could get her past wanting to bury herself, then they would both be able to walk away a little easier when their time together was done.
A wistful smile lifted one corner of her mouth, and he took his first easy breath since entering this room.
“I didn’t mean to have a meltdown,” she said.
“It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not,” she said firmly. “I was fine, really. I came up here and I was going to shower and wait for you when I saw—” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the facedown photo. “And suddenly, it all hit me. He’s gone. I’m here. With you. And I felt bad because I was feeling so good. And that doesn’t make any sense at all, does it?”
“You’re wrong about that, too. It makes perfect sense.” Sean brushed her hair back from her face and felt a gentle warmth slide through him as he pulled her in and held her. This wasn’t the heat he felt when he touched her. This was something more. Something deeper. Something he couldn’t describe—and he didn’t think he should try.
She leaned into him, and his arms just naturally tightened around her.
“Big day, huh?” she whispered.
“Yeah. You tired?” he asked.
She looked up at him and shook her head.
He smiled. “Glad to hear it.”
When he kissed her, Melinda melted against him, giving herself up to the truth of the moment. She was alive, as Sean had said, and she wasn’t going to hide from life again. She was going to set guilt aside and reach for what she wanted.
And what she wanted was Sean.
In a few seconds, they were naked. Sean grabbed a condom, sheathed himself, then sprawled across her bed with her. She felt the delicious slide of Sean’s skin against hers. He kissed his way down her body, lips and tongue tracing fiery lines across her flesh. He suckled at her breasts until she was arching blindly beneath him, desperate to ease the coiled tension inside her.
But there was more. He didn’t stop. Whispered words became muffled as he continued to gently torture her. Her breath was labored and she stared up at the ceiling, losing herself in the sensations that only he could cause.
His hands explored her every curve, his mouth tasted every inch of her, and when he moved down, kissing his way past her abdomen, she tensed. He spread her legs and kneeled between them, scooping his hands beneath her to lift her hips off the bed.
“Sean…”
“Just enjoy,” he said and covered her core with his mouth.
She gasped and moved into him, loving the feel of his tongue on her most sensitive skin. Again and again, he licked and nibbled at her center, until she was wild with need. With banked passion spilling up and over, inside her.
Her first climax hit her hard, and she called his name brokenly as her body quivered and shook and then finally exploded into shiny shards of pleasure. She was still quaking with release when his body slid into hers, pushing her into another orgasm, even more profound than the one before.
She reached for him, locking her feet at the small of his back, holding him to her, taking him deeper. Her hips rocked with his in a rhythm that was both breathless and timeless. Their bodies moved as one. Melinda looked up into his eyes and fell into those blue depths that were so filled with old pain and new promise.
He kissed her, and she took him inside, tangling her tongue with his. When he broke the kiss and smiled down at her, she smiled back, feeling freer than she ever had. Happiness dropped down on top of her, and she hardly recognized it. He had done this, she thought wildly. He had opened her heart, her body, her life.
That last, improbable thought dissolved an instant later when her body reached its peak and she gave herself up to the overwhelming crash of something amazing. She held onto him and cried out his name as she broke apart again, safe in his arms.
She held onto him as his body joined hers and, together, they slid into oblivion.
In the quiet, Melinda realized that she cared for Sean, far more than she should. But it wasn’t love. Couldn’t be.
Because if it was, she had set herself up for even more heartbreak.
Two days later, Sean stood up from his desk and turned to look out his office window. Couldn’t keep his mind on work. Couldn’t really think about anything but Melinda and this mess he’d landed them both in.
He’d thought to seduce her. Hadn’t really planned on his own reaction to the plan. Funny, he had once warned his brother Lucas to pull back from his idiotic idea to use Rose Clancy as a means of revenge against her brother Dave. Sean could remember telling Lucas that his plan was going to turn on him. And damned if it didn’t. Although, that had all worked out in the end, since Lucas and Rose were happily married now—not to mention the parents of the cutest three-month-old boy in the world.
“Should’ve listened to your own advice,” he muttered, disgusted with himself. But no, true to King form, he’d figured he could handle his own life just fine. Now, he was stuck in the middle of a damn soap opera.
A marriage of convenience to a woman still mourning the death of her once fiancé—and getting deeper and deeper into…what? Lust? Love?
That thought backed him right up. It hit him hard, and he shook his head as if he could wipe away even the silent mention of the word. He wasn’t in love. He didn’t do love. He’d tried that once only to get kicked in the teeth for his trouble.
“No, not love. Serious like, maybe,” he hedged and winced at the idiocy of that statement.
He really hated to admit that his brothers had been right. He never should have married Melinda. It had been asking for trouble right from the jump, and it was only getting worse the longer this marriage lasted. Even if he wasn’t in love, he was definitely feeling something for Melinda. Something that had him worried enough that he wondered how the hell he was supposed to deal with this for the next several weeks. He’d already decided that he would go out of his way to not have to come back to Tesoro during the length of the construction job.
Once he was gone from the island, he was going to stay gone. No sense putting him or Melinda through unnecessarily awkward situations. But damned if he wanted to think about leaving, either.
Sean stared out the window and realized that though he had only been on Tesoro a couple of weeks, he’d already become accustomed to the view here.
At first, it had all been foreign to him. Every time he looked out a window, he expected to see Long Beach. Busy streets, tons of people and his favorite Mexican restaurant on the corner. He had felt out of place, and he’d missed his water tower home and the familiar feel of Sunset Beach.
But now, looking out over clear blue water, white beaches and seeing only the occasional car felt…right. Somehow, the island had sneaked into his system. Much like Melinda had, he admitted silently.
This place, this woman, were becoming more important to him every day. Yet he knew he couldn’t afford to get attached to either one of them since he would be leaving in a few short weeks.
His brain was running in circles. He wasn’t finding answers to any of his questions—only more questions. Which gave him a damn headache and had him reaching for his phone gratefully when it rang.
A glance at the caller ID had him smiling. “Garrett.”
“Sean, got some news for you.”
“Right.” He focused on his cousin’s voice and pushed thoughts of Melinda to one side for the moment. God knew there’d be plenty of time later to deal with the ramifications of this temporary marriage. “What’d you find out?”
“Mainly?” Garret asked. “I found out Steven Hardesty was a creep.”
Sean inha
led sharply and nodded as his gut feeling was vindicated.
“Not surprised,” he said. “You should see his picture. No one with that many teeth is a good guy.”
“Yeah.” Garrett snorted. “Anyway, seems our Mr. Hardesty was a small-time con. Used his charm to bilk women out of money, then he’d disappear. There are a couple of police departments in Europe who’d love to have a chat with him.”
“Tough to manage, him being dead and all,” Sean muttered.
“Yeah, I actually told them about his death. They were disappointed.”
Thinking about Melinda mourning this guy, crying because she’d felt she was cheating on him with Sean, just made Sean’s stomach churn and his temper spike. “So he was a thief.”
“Oh yeah, and from what I can tell, he had moved up to embezzling just before his untimely passing.”
“Embezzling?” Sean’s spine went stiff as a board. His gaze was fixed on the harbor, but he hardly noticed the panorama stretched out in front of him. “From who?”
“Walter Stanford.”
“Damn it.” Sean’s hand fisted on his phone tightly enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised to snap the plastic case. Not only was the late, great Steven setting Melinda up to be used, and to no doubt drain her trust fund, but he had been stealing from the old man, too?
Quietly furious, Sean couldn’t help wondering if this was why Walter’s finances were in such bad shape. If Steven had been siphoning money from the hotel…” You sure about this?”
“Oh yeah. There’s enough of a paper trail to prove it.”
“Good.” Not that Sean had any imminent plans to tell Melinda about this, but he was sure as hell going to tell Walter. And it was good to know there was proof if the old man needed it.
“Sounds like your Melinda got off easy with this guy dying before he could cheat her and leave her.”
“Sounds that way, doesn’t it.” Garrett was clearly as disgusted as Sean. “Thanks Garrett. Appreciate it.”
“No problem, cuz. Call if you need anything else.”
When he hung up, Sean thought about Garrett’s statement. If Steven hadn’t died, Melinda would have been hurt and betrayed. She probably would have lost the money she was counting on to make her independent. But more, she’d have felt foolish and might have gone on a man-hating spree. But as it stood, she didn’t know the guy was a creep. To her, he was still the beloved fiancé, so instead of being pissed off, she was dealing with survivor’s guilt.
The Temporary Mrs. King Page 13
