The Temporary Wife: A Forever Love Story (InterMix)

by Jeannie Moon

  “We may never have sex?”

  “Bingo! Put me down. Now.”

  He lowered her to her feet, and Meg wobbled a little on her heels before gathering her skirt and making her way up the gangway. She didn’t stop to accept the glass of champagne Harper held out for her. Instead, she turned at Jason.

  “I’m assuming you’ve arranged for me to have everything I need?”

  God, he’d never seen her so pissed off, and he didn’t think that was possible after the scene at her house last week and Harper’s stripper comment. He wanted her even more now, he wanted her to channel all that magnificent fury in the bedroom. But that dream had died the minute Harper stepped on his boat. Meg was giving Harper a death stare, so he didn’t hold up the answer any longer, figuring they needed to be separated. “Clothes and toiletries are in your cabin. The steward can show you there.”

  Meg spun, literally, and her gown whipped around. She caught sight of the steward and followed him into the living quarters, while Jason turned to Harper. His assistant’s eyes were trained toward the passageway that led to the cabins, and her body language told Jason she knew she’d fucked up.

  “Oh, God. I didn’t think.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You keep saying this is a marriage in name only. I just figured we’d make it a working cruise and Meg could relax and get used to the idea. I had some outings planned. I thought we could all be friends.”

  A few weeks ago, when his lawyer had the prenup paperwork delivered to Jason’s office, Harper had been there to accept the package. She had done the same thing with those papers that she did with everything else that came to Jason from an attorney: She read them. It was her job. But in doing her job, she had found out the truth about the marriage.

  He wasn’t worried she would tell anyone; she would take the information to her grave. But the arrangement was even more of a reason for her to dislike Meg and cause problems as a result.

  “Friends? Really? Seems more like you’re running interference. Wait.” Jason put his hands on his hips. “What are you trying to do here?”

  “Do?”

  “No, Harper. No. Stop this now and tell me the truth.”

  Her mouth dropped open and then closed, and then Harper became Harper. The woman with a spine of steel and determination to match. “I was trying to keep you from making a mistake.”

  “I think we’re old enough to make our own decisions.”

  “I’ve been watching the two of you for the last week, and you behave like a couple of oversexed fifteen-year-olds! I can smell the hormones cooking.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Trust me,” she said. “It is.”

  “You don’t have any right to butt into this. We’re both adults.”

  “You need to get a grip, Jason.” Harper stood and paced in a circle. “If you get involved sexually, everything changes. Emotions get involved. It gets messy. And she gets attached. That makes the divorce messy.”

  “I think we can handle it. It’s just sex.”

  “Is it? With me it was just sex.”

  “Shhhh.” The last thing he needed was Meg hearing about his and Harper’s sexual history. The way everything had blown up in his face last week with Harper’s stripper comment, he didn’t need her to know she was the last person he’d had sex with.

  “She doesn’t know?”

  “No, and she isn’t going to.”

  “Jason, for such a smart man, you really are a dumbass sometimes.”

  Jason looked away and thought about how Meg would react to finding out he and Harper burned up the sheets. She’d fucking flip is what she’d do. Meg was many things, but for all of Harper’s calm reasoning, Meg was a ball of fire. She was stubborn, difficult, and exasperating.

  “Jason, keep your hands off of her, or walking away from this marriage will not be an option.”

  “Why do you say that? She’s not stupid. She knows the score.”

  “She’ll get attached. She’s all about emotion and she won’t be able to separate the emotion from the sex.”

  Was that true? Would Meg get too invested in the marriage? He didn’t think so, and everything was laid out plain as day, but he realized he was dealing with a woman whose emotions were as big as his bank book. A very emotional, shoot-from-the-hip woman, and there was a good chance she wouldn’t follow the rules unless he stuck to them. His Meg wasn’t the innocent girl he left fourteen years ago. She was smart, strong, and not afraid of her sexuality. It was an incredible combination—and a dangerous one.

  Their whole marriage arrangement went against everything she believed in, but if there was one thing he knew about Meg, it was that she would sacrifice everything for someone she loved. In this case, she did it for Molly and Grace.

  But Harper was right. He had to keep this relationship out of the bedroom. As much as he wanted to get his hands on the woman who was now his wife, he had to keep his distance. Meg was messy and complicated, and he didn’t want any of those things in his life. So no matter how much he wanted her in his bed—and he did want her—Jason decided he’d keep his distance.

  The breeze from the bay blew across the deck, and Jason caught a whiff of Meg’s perfume. It was still in the air, floating around him, making him light-headed, and his intentions went overboard. He could talk all he wanted about keeping things friendly, but where Meg was concerned, he had no chance.

  None. Zero. Nada. Zip.

  ***

  Meg sat on the bed in her cabin and looked out the large window across from her. This was, apparently, the VIP stateroom.

  It was too bad she didn’t feel much like a VIP. With her rumpled wedding dress and her hair falling out of its pins, she looked more the part of the runaway bride, and right then she felt like running away, too. And that wasn’t like her in the least.

  Meg wasn’t a crier and she wasn’t a pushover, but since Jason walked back into her life, she’d become both. He made all the decisions, had infiltrated every part of her life, yet she seemed to be kept distant from his. She almost called this whole thing off last week, and now she wished she had. Other than his partners, Harper was the only other one in his inner circle. Harper, with her straight, dark hair, her perfect size-two figure, and her designer wardrobe. “Harper,” Meg sneered. Even her name was stuck-up.

  Jason had tried to downplay the relationship recently. He’d talked about her less and he’d stopped waving her credentials in Meg’s face. Meg always considered herself smart and well-educated—her master’s was from Columbia Teachers College—but next to Harper’s Harvard MBA, Meg felt like a high school dropout.

  It didn’t help that neither one of them, Jason nor the Harpy, understood her job or why she did it. And that became obvious two days ago when she stopped off at the house before heading to the bank. She’d gotten paid, and for some reason the direct deposit wasn’t made in her account. When Harper got a look at her deposit slip and her paycheck, she laughed. “You actually go to work each day for that?”

  It was a slap in the face, especially since Meg felt she did pretty well. But in Harperland, her salary probably looked like an allowance; after all, it was only “babysitting.”

  The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She knew for a fact that neither Jason nor Harper would survive for ten minutes with twenty five-year-olds. Forget teaching them anything.

  There was a small dressing table tucked against the wall by the bathroom, and Meg moved to the padded stool, her large skirts swishing around her. Pressing her lips tight, she started to pull the pins from her hair.

  Locks of hair were falling around her face, and her heart ached at the thought of another woman spending time with her husband. She and Jason weren’t a real couple, she knew that, and there was no way to get around the fact that at times they were barely even friends. But it was hard to think about getting close to someone when you knew it wouldn’t last and when there was someone else in the marriage from the very start.

 
; And damn, as much as she didn’t want it to, it hurt.

  Her hair fell around her shoulders—not straight, not perfectly coiffed and dignified, but a wild mass of curls and waves. She did look like a high-priced stripper, with her boobs popping out of her dress, her crazy hair, and her glittery shoes. What was she thinking?

  More than that, what was Jason thinking? Probably that he’d been right to keep her from his friends all those years ago.

  Bending her arms back, she tried to release her dress, but she realized she couldn’t do it herself. It was crushingly sad, because if she were a real bride, her husband would be undoing those buttons for her.

  Instead, her husband was up on the deck, sipping champagne with Harper.

  “Awesome,” she mumbled, and dropped her head on her arms. “I’m trapped in a designer wedding gown.”

  There was a tap at the door, and before Meg could answer she saw Jason reflected in the vanity mirror. He’d taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He looked upset. And he looked gorgeous. Totally gorgeous.

  Of course, he had every right to be upset, since he’d just married the Stripper Bride.

  He set a glass of champagne on the table by the window and approached her. “It must have been hard to get your hair down.”

  “Not that bad, but it’s all over the place. I do look like a pole dancer.”

  “No, you don’t.” He sat on the bed. “You look hot, but you don’t look like a pole dancer.”

  “A hooker, then?”

  He laughed and gave her a good once-over. “Nah. Well . . .” He looked at her again. “Maybe a really expensive one.”

  “At least I’m expensive.” Her mouth turned up, thankful she could find something to laugh about at a time like this. She glanced at his reflection and took a tissue to dab at her eyes. “Can you help me unbutton my dress?”

  “Stuck?”

  She nodded, and without hesitation, he moved directly behind her, pushed her hair aside, and started working the buttons.

  “Harper left. She apologizes.”

  Meg had just about died when Jason told her Harper knew the truth about their marriage, because with that knowledge Harper would always have the upper hand. “I know she thinks this is a terrible mistake, but I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

  “Meg, don’t worry about what Harper thinks. She has some strong opinions on the arrangement, but intellectually she understands and she knows that we’re adults. She has no say in how we relate to each other.”

  “She thinks I’m after your money.”

  “Most people are, including Harper, which is why she’s suspicious of everyone else. But I know you’re not.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “That’s the last one,” he said, and Meg felt the cool air on her bare back. He stared at her in the mirror and then he leaned in and dropped a soft kiss right at the curve of her neck. It felt warm, sensual, full of promise.

  She sighed.

  Damn. She was just too easy.

  He leaned in and kissed her again, his hands pulling her hair to the side, giving him unfettered access. Meg, who at that point was channeling her inner newlywed, tilted her head to the side so he could get more. His hands had inched inside the bodice of her dress and were cupping her breasts, and his mouth was leaving a trail of soft wet kisses on her neck and shoulder.

  Meg let her eyes drift open and she watched him seduce her.

  Their refection was sensual, erotic. The top of her dress had fallen forward, leaving her in a frilly white strapless bra, her diamond necklace, and her dripping diamond earrings. His hands touched her skin with such tenderness, Meg was falling into a trance. She was panting, breathless, and the ache that had formed low in her belly cried out to be quieted and filled.

  Only Jason could do that. Only him.

  “You’re so beautiful, Meg. So beautiful. Like a dream.”

  He changed position and scooted her from the bench to the bed, and then lowered her onto her back. Lying next to her, he continued to touch and kiss her into insanity.

  This was her husband. This was seduction.

  Her eyes were drifting shut, and she waited for the next touch, but instead felt him rise from the bed. Maybe he was getting undressed?

  Bending over her, Jason kissed her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Morning!” Meg sat up, the cool breeze chilling her hot skin. “What do you mean, morning?”

  “I can’t sleep with you. You’re too important to me, and it could ruin everything.”

  He was being honorable? Now? That was the last straw. This was her honeymoon, and she wanted him. His honorable self-control could go to hell.

  She blinked incredulously. “What was the point of all this?”

  He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t help it. I get close and I want to touch you.”

  “You want? Any thought about what I might want?”

  “We need to be reasonable.”

  There it was again. Fucking reasonable. He wanted reasonable? “Fine, but if you don’t want me to believe that you see me as a cheap slut, don’t treat me like one.”

  He stood there, mouth open like a fish, shocked that there had been no scene, no blowup, just him getting called out.

  “Good night, Jason.”

  He left, and Meg peeled out of her dress before dropping onto the bed. There was a rumble and some movement, and she realized the boat was pulling away from the dock. The steward had told her they were heading north, stopping in Martha’s Vineyard, the Cape, Nantucket, and coastal Maine before turning around to head home.

  This month had been full of stops and starts, and Meg realized that if she was going to come out of this with her heart intact, she had to stop falling prey to Jason’s games and take control of the situation. He liked to flirt and tease, but he never gave too much. He feigned nobility, concern, but Meg figured it was more about power.

  She couldn’t allow it any longer. This was her life, and she’d let her out-of-control emotions get the best of her more than once. Maybe it was time to give Jason a run for his money. He wasn’t the only one who could play games.

  Chapter 9

  Meg awoke to a knock on her door and the sun streaming in the cabin window. “Come in?”

  Who was knocking, and what the hell time was it?

  “Good morning, Mrs. Campbell. I have some breakfast for you.”

  The steward wheeled in a cart covered with goodies. “Mr. Campbell said you have a bit of a sweet tooth, so I brought muffins and pastries, but if you’d like, I can order something else from the galley.”

  Yanking the covers up, she smiled at the choices in front of her. “Is there coffee with all those yummy things?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “Would you like to fix it yourself?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. This is lovely. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He poured some coffee into a large mug.

  “What’s your name?” The gentleman was in his midforties, maybe, and his accent was all New York.

  “Robert, Mrs. Campbell. Would you like anything else?”

  “No, thank you, Robert.”

  “There’s a button on the phone that you can press should you need anything. Don’t hesitate to ask. We’ll be docking in Martha’s Vineyard in about an hour. Mr. Campbell said it’s a nice day for a bike ride, if you’d like to join him.”

  “Sounds like fun. I’ll be ready.” She sank back into her pillows when he left and wondered whose life she’d hijacked. Breakfast in bed, a steward at her beck and call, a new place every day? Good God, this was not normal. Normal people didn’t live like this.

  Meg picked a chocolate croissant from the basket and took a small bite. It was warm, and the chocolate oozed over her tongue and lip in a sensuous dance of flavors and textures. She finished it and went for something else. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry, but since it had been twelve hours since she’d last eaten, she shouldn’t be surpr
ised.

  Her sleep had been interrupted by some very erotic dreams. Dreams where Jason didn’t stop and walk away, but stayed with her and made love to her until dawn. It was an exquisite dream . . . unrealistic, based on how their wedding night had gone, but totally worth every fitful bit of sleep.

  He knew exactly how to push her buttons, and all she wanted was to be able to return the favor. The bastard always seemed to have the upper hand, and Meg was getting sick of it.

  Be reasonable, he’d say. What did that mean? Hide from your feelings? Pretend things didn’t exist? Think like a machine? No, after last night, Meg had decided that today was the day the teacher was going to give the CEO a little lesson.

  ***

  Jason waited on the dock for Meg, knowing everything he did was going to piss her off. He’d really screwed up the night before, and the least he could do was give her a nice few days. A quiet few days. A few days where he kept his hands to himself.

  Meg was like a magnet. The pull toward her was harsh and physical, and what they both needed was a distraction. A bike ride, a nice lunch, some sightseeing, some shopping—that would cheer her up.

  Then he saw her walk down the gangway, looking cuter than should be legal, her blond locks pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a pair of khaki capris with a long-sleeve navy blue T-shirt. It was preppy and conservative and completely at odds with the woman he knew lived in that body.

  She glided toward him all curvy and pretty, looking like she belonged back in a designer gown, dripping with diamonds. Then the toe of her sneaker caught and she pitched forward, landing neatly in his arms.

  So much for keeping his hands off of her. Meg looked over the top of her sunglasses and bit those luscious lips, and if Jason didn’t start thinking about main servers and syslogs, he’d lose control completely. Just looking at this woman, he was dead in the water. Jesus Christ.

  “Sorry,” she laughed, straightening. “I told you the shoes wouldn’t matter.”

  Jason looked at her feet and smiled. She was wearing basic white Nikes, not a stiletto in sight, and she still almost face-planted.