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Last Resort: Marriage
Pamela Stone
Desperate times call for…a quickie wedding!And desperation is the only reason Charlotte Harrington would even consider marrying local playboy Aaron Brody. Even if he is the most irresistible man she's ever laid eyes on. Charlie's proposition could be a win-win for both of them. Aaron keeps his charter business afloat and the gorgeous, cool-as-ice hotel heiress keeps her grandfather from selling her hotel out from under her.Besides, it's temporary. Isn't it? It was supposed to be strictly a business arrangement. Falling in love with her husband wasn't part of the deal. So when the time comes, will Charlie be able to just shake hands with Aaron and part ways forever?
“I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Aaron Brody.”
Charlie beamed at her speechless grandfather. She tried to present the picture of calm confidence, but inside her stomach lurched. What now?
Edward glanced at her bare ring finger, leveled his pointed glare at Aaron and demanded, “Is that true? Are you planning to marry my granddaughter?”
Locking gazes with Aaron, Charlie silently pleaded with him to back her up. His eyes matched the murky green of the gulf right before a storm, and were just as dangerous. Hopefully he was crazy enough to take the challenge.
“Why would Charlie lie about a thing like that?” Aaron asked without looking Edward’s way. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
Dear Reader,
I’ve always loved to travel, and my favorite destination is always a beach. But in all my travels, I’ve found no place on earth that matches the eclectic character of the Florida Keys. The Keys are more than a string of islands linked by more than seventy bridges. They offer a hodgepodge of open-air bars, hot sandy beaches and boats of every description. There are colorful locals, breathtaking sunsets and key lime pie. Romantic? You bet. But what if your job is creating romantic island vacations for other people and you never have time for love of your own? In fact, it’s been so long since you’ve had a day off, you haven’t even noticed anything is missing! Until one day he walks into your office. All muscled and tanned, his mischievous eyes twinkling as he flashes a roguish grin. You might consider doing something wild. Something crazy. Something completely out of character. But only as a last resort.
I’m so thrilled to be writing for Harlequin American Romance. Let me know if you enjoy escaping to the Keys with Aaron and Charlie in Last Resort: Marriage. I’d love to hear from you. You can contact me and find out about my upcoming books at www.pamelastone.net.
Wishing you sand between your toes, a salty breeze rustling the palms and a special someone to share it with.
Pamela Stone
Last Resort: Marriage
Pamela Stone
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Texas native Pamela Stone is an accounting graduate who spent more than twenty years in the technology field before publishing her first romance novel.
Pamela still resides in Texas with her childhood sweetheart and husband of—well, we won’t mention how many years. In her spare time she enjoys traveling. From Hawaii to California to Florida to the Caribbean, if there’s a beach, she’s there. So not surprisingly, the majority of her stories are set on a beach. She also loves spending time with friends and family, but her laptop is never far from her fingertips for when that next inspiration strikes!
She insists that writing keeps her sane. Cheaper than a therapist and tons more fun.
I’d like to dedicate this book to my editor,
Johanna Raisanen, for taking a chance on me.
And to all my family and friends for believing in me.
And last but not least, to my critique partners,
Linda and Juliet. This dream wouldn’t
have come true without you, ladies.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
“After all, dear, you’re not getting any younger,” Charlotte Harrington’s grandfather stated in a tone that made intelligent, self-assured adults quake in their shoes.
Not getting any younger? “Twenty-nine isn’t exactly elderly.”
“There’s more to life than work.”
Charlotte blinked. Since when had Edward Harrington thought about anything other than his precious chain of resorts?
“I only want to see you happy and settled with a husband and family. I want to hold my great-grandson before I die.” He gestured to the man beside him. “Since you haven’t found a suitable husband on this godforsaken island, I thought I’d help you out.”
Perry Thurman held out both hands. “I miss you, darling.”
Charlotte almost gagged. Perry wore his toothpaste smile and tailor-fit Armani with all the confidence of Edward’s handpicked protégé. She drew a measure of satisfaction from the bump on his nose. Only the two of them knew the history of that little flaw.
Edward clapped Perry on the back. “Charlotte, Perry came to me and confessed that what happened between you two in college was entirely his fault. Give him another chance.”
Her nails dug into her palms. Perry’s sincerity might fool some, but not her. There wasn’t enough air in the room. She walked across her office and opened the shutters. Think, Charlotte. She glanced out at the beach where sunbathers baked on the clean white sand. She felt like the damsel in distress in one of her grandmother’s romance novels. Perry fit the part of the despicable groom to perfection, but this was the twenty-first century and Charlotte wasn’t buying into the plot.
She turned from the window to face Edward. “You, the man who lives and breathes work, are giving me advice about love?”
“There are a few things in my life I’d do differently. We all live with regrets.”
Like being away on a business trip the day your wife died?
“At least hear me out before you reject my plan.” Edward smiled that I-know-what’s-best-for-you smile. “It’s time you and Perry were back in Boston learning the ropes. Taking a more active role in Harrington’s.”
Charlotte caught her breath. Running Harrington’s had always been her dream. Five years ago, she’d have jumped at a chance at a management position at the head office. But here in the Keys and away from her grandfather, she’d become accustomed to making her own decisions. She couldn’t go back to working under Edward Harrington’s thumb. And with Perry there, Boston sounded more like a prison sentence than a dream.
“Perry’s done a phenomenal job with the Monte Carlo resort.”
Typically, Edward seemed more interested in Perry’s professional credentials than his husband potential. So much for the new family-first Edward Harrington. Begrudgingly Charlotte had to admit that Perry’s profit margin was the highest in the chain. So why had he given up the prestige of running the Monte Carlo resort? His idea or Edward’s?
“But what about this resort?” she protested. “I’ve turned Marathon Key into one of the most elegant, profitable resorts in South Florida.” She glanced at the gold-framed diplomas, certificates and hotel awards on the wall behind her desk. “I was helping run it even before Daddy died.”
“I already have several investors interested in taking this monstrosity off our hands.”
“You’re selling my hotel?” Marathon Key was all she had left of her father.
Edward glanced around. “It’s the oldest resort in the chain. Nobody pays prime rates to come to the Keys nowadays when it’s just as easy to hop a jet to the Mediterranean.”
How quickly he dismissed everything she’d accomplished. Her chauvinist grandfather didn’t have enough confidence in her to realize she could run her own hotel business without the help of a man.
“If you intend to sell Marathon anyway, then sell it to me. I can give you a hundred thousand down by tomorrow.” It’d be tight, but some decent investments combined with her inheritance would cover it.
Edward clasped his hands together and smiled. “I’ll do you one better. Marry Perry, move back to Boston and I’ll sign Marathon over to you as a wedding present. You can play with it in your spare time. Bring your children down here for vacations.”
So, the truth finally came out. He interpreted her hard work building up this resort as playing. Watching the two men exchange self-assured grins, she steamed. The conniving rats expected her to just fall in line with their conspiracy.
“You and Perry could make a good life together.”
Perry eased behind her desk and took both her hands in his. “We were young. I was stupid. Any way you could find it in your heart to forgive me? Give me another chance?”
She pulled her hands out of his grasp and shot him a go-to-hell look. Did he actually think she’d fall for his preposterous act? She wasn’t the naive coed she’d been six years ago. Dimples and an expensive suit wouldn’t fool her again.
Leaning close, he nuzzled her ear. “Don’t be like this, darling. We’ll make a great team, both personally and professionally. Just like we planned.”
She flinched at his touch. The only thing Perry was interested in was getting to the top. He didn’t care whom he had to use, step on or obviously even marry to get there.
A quick tap on her office door drew her attention. Without waiting for an invitation, the local Casanova strolled into the room. “Hey, Charlie, we got a problem. My boat’s on the blink again.”
Today was turning into a real winner.
“Charlie?” Edward sputtered. “You allow employees to call you Charlie? How can you run a resort of this caliber without respect for management?”
She bit her tongue to keep from snapping back. At least they were in agreement about one thing. Only Aaron Brody would enter her office unannounced and only Aaron called her Charlie. The man had no concept of propriety or manners. It was a miracle he managed to keep his charter business afloat. Literally. This was the third time in two months he’d had to cancel a tour because his boat wasn’t running.
Ignoring her grandfather’s comments, Aaron folded his tanned arms across his chest and winked at Charlotte.
She did a double take. What was up with that? Did he realize what he’d walked in on? She studied his face. She’d never been able to decipher the strange workings of his mind. Mr. Brody was a law unto himself. She’d long since given up on him behaving properly.
The first time she’d seen Aaron Brody, he’d been working on his boat. That situation hadn’t changed much over three years. The image of his sweaty tanned chest and long legs dusted with sun-bleached hair was seared in her memory.
Cocky, independent Aaron would never get caught in a position like this. He’d probably tell Edward to go straight to hell.
As she studied him, an idea took form. Would Aaron go along with it? Either way, she wasn’t about to lose this resort without a fight. But marrying Perry Thurman to keep it wasn’t an option.
Trying not to act awkward, Charlotte sauntered up to Aaron and slipped her arm around his waist. She stared him straight in the eyes and smiled. “Aaron isn’t an employee, Edward.” Please let him follow her lead. She turned her head to watch the expression on her grandfather’s face. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Aaron Brody.”
Edward’s jaw dropped.
She deliberately didn’t introduce Perry as she beamed at her speechless grandfather. She tried to present the picture of calm confidence, but inside her stomach lurched. What now? Aaron surely thought she was a lunatic.
Edward glanced at her bare ring finger, leveled his pointed glare on Aaron, and demanded, “Is that true? Are you planning to marry my granddaughter?”
Locking gazes with Aaron, she silently pleaded with him to back her up. His eyes matched the murky green of the gulf right before a storm and were just as dangerous. She’d heard rumors of wild nights and wilder women. Hopefully he was crazy enough to take the challenge.
His body was a granite statue beneath her arm. Wiping her sweaty palm on the back of his shirt, she continued to hold his stare.
“Why would Charlie lie about a thing like that?” Aaron asked without looking Edward’s way. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
Before she had time to register relief, he bent his head, slid a seductive hand inside the collar of her blouse, and caressed her bare neck. He leaned close, rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, and covered her lips with his.
She felt every thump of her heart, but her lips parted, following his lead. His tongue slowly traced the shape of her mouth. She gazed into his eyes and her body temperature rose ten degrees. His mouth was warm and intimate, nibbling and sampling as if her lips were a delectable slice of key lime pie.
As quickly as he’d swept her into his arms, he loosened his hold. A corner of his mouth twitched and a mischievous twinkle lit his eyes. “You left before I woke up this morning. You know I don’t like that.”
Charlotte reminded herself to close her mouth. She couldn’t think of an appropriate response.
Perry paced across the room. “You can’t be serious about throwing your life away on this…this…”
She turned her back on him and flashed Aaron a grateful smile. “I have no intention of throwing my life away.” Hopefully this “engagement” would buy her enough time to send Perry packing.
Edward ran his gaze over Charlotte before focusing on Aaron. “Is that the way you dress for work?”
She glanced at Aaron’s dirty khaki shorts and road-stripe-yellow T-shirt. His sneakers sported holes and engine grease stained his shirt and nails. Tufts of sun-streaked brown hair stuck out from under a battered khaki baseball cap. Typical dress for the Keys, but not her grandfather’s idea of proper business attire.
Aaron shrugged and pointed to the faded green words, Brody’s Charters, stenciled on the front of his shirt. “You got a problem with free advertising?” The two men never broke eye contact. “This is the Keys, pal. Not Boston.”
“So, when’s the wedding? Should I postpone my flight?”
She couldn’t move. She should have expected Edward to call her bluff. She squeezed Aaron’s waist. “We aren’t planning a big ceremony. Spring break is about to hit. Maybe after that we’ll go to a JP.”
Edward frowned. “A justice of the peace?”
“Charlotte, please don’t do this.” Perry sounded truly pained.
She took a breath and pretended Perry wasn’t in the room. Not too difficult with Aaron massaging the back of her neck.
He rubbed his stubbled chin with his other hand and eyed Edward. “You know, Charlie, since your grandfather’s in town, maybe my pal Johnny could marry us on his boat. He’s a captain. We could get married as early as say…tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? Her throat tightened. What was he doing? Did he think she was actually going to marry him?
Aaron flashed an innocent smile. “What do you say, Charlie?”
She felt like a swimmer trapped in a pool of circling male sharks. She offered her grandfather what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “Aaron and I need to talk. Could you give us a minute?”
She took Edward’s arm and escorted him to the door. “Why don’t you and Perry wait for us in the restaurant? Order lunch and we’ll join you shortly.”
Edward continued to watch Aaron.
Perry widened his eyes as if he were a parent instructing a child. “Don’t let this guy rush you into something you’ll regret.”
She ignored him and pushed them out of her office.
The minute the door clicked shut she swiveled to face Aaron. “What are you up to?”
“Just playing along, sweetheart,” he drawled, staring at her legs.
Smoothing her skirt, she stepped behind her desk. “I only want to make my grandfather think we’re engaged. The idea here is not to marry anyone. You just have to pretend.”
“The hell I will! Your grandfather’s not stupid. He wants you married or you’re going to lose this place. Right?”
She swallowed. Edward hadn’t exactly threatened that, but he always had an agenda. As, apparently, did Aaron. He was acting too sure of himself, too in control. “Were you eavesdropping?”
He quirked one eyebrow, but didn’t deny her accusation. His sneakers squeaked across the polished wood floor as he sauntered over to pick up a crystal paperweight off her desk.
“What do you want, Mr. Brody?”
He put the paperweight down and propped one khaki-covered hip on the corner of her imported, mahogany desk. “Same thing you do. To save my business.”
“I’m not following.”
He dug a crumpled pack of Camels and a red disposable lighter out of the pocket of his shorts and lit a cigarette.
Charlotte fanned her hand in front of her face. “Don’t smoke in here.”
He paused with the cigarette midway to his mouth and then took a long drag before pinching the fire out between his fingers and flicking it into her empty metal trash can.
“A hundred grand should get me back on the water in style.” Studying the smoke ring floating to the ceiling, he didn’t glance her way.
“You were eavesdropping. Don’t try to con me.”
“Careful. You’ll hurt my feelings.” One eyebrow arched. “Look, you need a husband to pacify the old man and save your hotel. I’ve got a boat that needs a major overhaul and my funds are tapped out. We need each other or we’ll both be out of business.”
She narrowed her eyes. “A hundred thousand dollars? You’re insane. I don’t need you that bad.”
“Yeah, you do. You marry that self-centered slick and Granddaddy will still be yanking your chain. Percy will lick that old man’s wing tips until he keels over. Your grandfather will probably even put the resort in Percy’s name.” He sat up straight and did a realistic impression of Edward. “Isn’t proper for a business to be in a woman’s name. The man runs things.” He turned and flashed an enigmatic grin. “But hey? You’ll be too busy popping out little Percys to have time to run a hotel, anyway.”
“Don’t be a wise guy,” she hissed. “And his name is Perry.” Interesting the way Aaron had pegged Perry in thirty seconds flat. Whereas her usually astute grandfather seemed to believe the guy had feelings for anything other than his bank account. Edward had substituted the brown-nosing smooth-talker for the son he’d lost. Perry excelled in every aspect where her father had fallen short. Advanced degree in hotel management, professional appearance, and above all, a willingness to dedicate every waking minute to the Harrington empire. Perry hadn’t been born a Harrington, but it was almost as if he’d been vaccinated with Edward’s DNA.
Aaron grinned. “Think about it. We stay married a few months. I keep out of your hotel business and put my boat back in shape. Grandfather backs off. We get a quiet divorce and everybody’s happy. Beautiful plan.”
“Ten thousand for a pretend engagement.”
“Come on, Charlie.” He shook his head. “Short of marrying Percy, I’m your best shot at ever owning this place.”
“I’ll pay Edward the hundred thousand as a down payment and buy the resort. I don’t have to marry either of you.”
“Think of it this way. The resort is worth what, a hundred times that? You’ll be paying on the loan for years. And as long as you’re single, your grandfather will be riding your case about getting married and having a family. Pacify the old man. Marry me and he’ll sign the hotel over to you.”
“No. I’ll figure out something,” she said, although no immediate alternative came to mind.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Granddaddy’s going to be disappointed when there’s no nuptials tomorrow.”
“What do you expect after your brash announcement?” she snapped. “I’ll just have to explain.” Somehow.
“You need me, Charlie.”
She nodded toward the door. “Get out, Mr. Brody. I’m not marrying you or anyone else.”
EDWARD STOOD AS SHE TOOK her seat across from him in the hotel restaurant. “Where’s your fiancé?”
How could she tell him she’d lied about the engagement without making him so suspicious he’d never agree to sell her the resort? “Aaron had to arrange for someone to take his tour.” She glanced around. “No Perc—Perry?”
“I told him to make himself scarce. Charlotte, are you certain about marrying this man? I’ve never heard you mention Aaron Brody until today.”
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”
“As I’m sure there are things you don’t know about your fiancé.”
This was probably her best opening. “Look, Edward—”
“I don’t trust this guy. He’s seeing dollar signs.”
“Perry’s the one seeing dollar signs.”
“Just because the man hurt your pride in college is no call to be snide. He’s grown up. So should you.” He leveled his gaze. “If I truly believed Aaron was in love with you, I’d be delighted. But…”
“You don’t believe he could love me?” Maybe she wasn’t the type men typically craved in their beds, but she wasn’t exactly a dog, either.
“You’re not thinking clearly. Love clouds a woman’s judgment. I don’t want you hurt and I have to protect my business. I’ve worked too damn hard to risk some fortune hunter taking you to the cleaners.”
She twisted her napkin. If she didn’t know her grandfather had her best interest at heart, she’d reach across the table and yank his red power tie until his face matched.
“Aaron isn’t like that,” she said, although not more than fifteen minutes ago, he’d tried to do exactly that.
Edward pushed his chair back and stood. “He is and I can prove it.” With that parting shot, he turned and strode out of the restaurant.
AARON GLANCED UP FROM WORKING on his defunct engine and narrowed one eye as Edward Harrington boarded the Free Wind. One thing Aaron could say for the guy, he was better dressed than the typical clientele.
Harrington slid a leather checkbook from the breast pocket of his tailor-made jacket and flipped it open. “How much?”
Aaron grabbed a grease rag off his toolbox and wiped his hands as he stood. “Excuse me?”
“No games. How much to get you out of my granddaughter’s life? What’ll it take to make you disappear? Fifty thousand? A hundred?” Edward stared at him in disdain.
Nothing ever changed. He might as well be back on the streets of Miami with everyone who passed scowling at him as if he was slime that had washed in at high tide.
A flock of seagulls squawked overhead. Harrington glanced up and frowned as if he expected them to shut up on command. “A working-class man like yourself meets a woman of Charlotte’s means and sees an opportunity to make a fortune.” He scoffed at the greasy tools scattered across the deck and took a slender gold pen out of his pocket. “Well, she’s not as vulnerable as you thought. You’ve got to deal with me. Two hundred thousand?”
Two hundred thousand?
Harrington nailed him with a stare, waiting for him to bite. Aaron pictured all the new equipment that much money could buy. Hell, he could get a new boat.
“Come on, Mr. Brody, every man has a price. Give it up. I’m not having my granddaughter taken by a two-bit crook.”
Harrington’s smug confidence burned his ass. Thought his fat bank account gave him the power to control the world. “Do you need a step-by-step diagram of where to stick that checkbook?”
Aaron had the pleasure of watching Edward’s self-assured smirk fade as he replaced the checkbook in his pocket and strolled off the Free Wind.
He was going to hate himself in the morning. But hell, once Charlie told her grandfather she’d broken off the engagement the check would be about as worthless as his archaic engine anyway.
Chapter Two
“I may have been a bit rash in judging your fiancé,” Edward admitted as he folded himself into the wing chair across from Charlotte’s desk.
Her fingers stilled over her keyboard. “You’re admitting you were wrong?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” He held up one hand. “But I’m willing to give him a chance.”
She shut down the spreadsheet she’d been staring at. What had transpired between him and Aaron?
“Let’s face facts. To my knowledge, the only serious relationship you’ve ever had was with Perry. And look how you handled that.”
Nibbling her lip, she told herself he didn’t mean that quite how it sounded. He didn’t know the full story. But then, she’d never actually leveled with him about Perry for fear of confirming his belief that women let emotions cloud their judgment.
“Getting along with people is not your forte.”
A true enough fact, but it stung just the same. The man was a master at capitalizing on people’s vulnerabilities. “Not my forte? I learned everything I know from you.”
“Don’t get upset. I’m trying to protect you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “From what?”
“Yourself.” He exhaled. “Now, you can marry your scuba diver—”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“No, you don’t.” Edward steepled his fingers. “But if you want this resort, you’ll listen to my proposal.”
She clenched her fists in her lap. As usual, everything had to be by Edward’s rules.
“Aaron passed the first test, but I’m far from convinced that romance is his driving force. Still, I’m willing to give the marriage a chance. If, after say six months, I’m satisfied as to Mr. Brody’s motives, I’ll sign the Marathon resort over to you, like I promised. At least you’ll have a means to support yourself.”
Aaron had been right. He was her best shot at ever owning the hotel. But could she marry and pretend to be in love for six months? Could Aaron? It shouldn’t be too difficult. They only had to put up a front when Edward was around, and he had twelve resorts demanding his time.
Edward cleared his throat. “Perry has agreed to stay on as your assistant manager. He’ll report directly to me.”
Her entire body tensed in outrage. She should have known he’d have a trump up his sleeve. “I don’t need Perry.”
“Take it or leave it.” He folded his arms. “I have to look out for you and protect my business.”
She bolted to her feet. “But I’ve been running this resort alone for almost five years.”
“I’m not sure you’re thinking with your brain at the moment,” he said. “Of course, Aaron will sign a prenuptial.”
“He already offered. I told him it wasn’t necessary.” If she was going to bluff, might as well pull out all the stops.
He looked at her as if she were some poor lovesick fool. “Oh, Charlotte!”
“I’m not as naive about men as you think. I know my fiancé.” She could handle Aaron Brody. On the other hand, she thought, remembering the kiss, maybe she was a poor lovesick fool.
CHARLOTTE STEPPED ON BOARD Aaron’s boat, half hoping he wasn’t there. Could she pull this off?
Easy to see why he needed the money. The Free Wind was a dilapidated fiberglass boat in desperate need of a face-lift. The hull had probably been white at one time, but had taken on more of a dirty yellow hue. The wood deck was warped.
She’d about decided the boat was deserted when she caught sight of him sitting behind a desk in a miniscule office.
The afternoon sun barely filtered through the salt-crusted window. He stood as she stepped through the door into the cramped, paneled office. “What did I do to rate two Harringtons in one day?”
She choked down her pride. “We’ll have to draw up a prenuptial agreement.”
Aaron frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
“But ten thousand is my final offer.” She adopted her don’t-mess-with-me, business tone.
“Lady, I’ve been insulted enough for one afternoon. Take your money and do your husband shopping somewhere else.”
Humiliation burned through her. She couldn’t even buy a husband. Did he want her to beg? She shouldered her purse and turned to go.
But go where? Back to Edward and admit Aaron didn’t want to marry her?
She straightened her shoulders and faced him. “You were right. You’re my only viable option.”
He leaned over, flattened his palms on his desk, and focused his sea-green eyes on her. “A hundred thousand, which I know you can get your hands on, deposited in an account in my name and I’ll sign a prenup that says I walk away with my business and the money in my accounts.” His jaw stiffened. “If it doesn’t specify what I do get, I don’t sign.”
Charlotte let out her breath. She never thought she’d negotiate a marriage like a business contract. Who said she didn’t know how to manage relationships?
“Let’s make sure we understand each other. This is business.” She leaned into his face. “We get married and Edward returns to Boston. In six months, providing we can convince him that a) we’re blissfully in love and b) you’re trustworthy, he’ll sign the resort over to me. At that point, we file for divorce. And—” she paused for effect “—I have no intention of sharing your bed as part of the arrangement.”
That announcement slowed him down a pace or two.
“And it won’t kill you to take a couple months off from your playboy lifestyle.”
“Playboy?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Just because I’m no damn monk? Don’t tell me, you’re saving yourself for marriage. Oh, wait, you don’t want sex then, either.”
Sarcasm dripped from his words. Okay, so sexuality wasn’t her strong point, but still.
Aaron studied the top of his desk and took out his cigarettes. After a glance at her, he shoved the pack back in his pocket. “I’m not thrilled with sharing your bed, either, sweetheart, but you know as well as I do the old man won’t believe this farce unless we share accommodations.” He flashed a wicked grin. “Your place or mine, Charlie?”
The image of lying naked with this green-eyed macho maniac made her stop. She wasn’t the quivering, breathless type and getting naked didn’t figure into this.
He flashed another charming smile, and extended his hand. “Let me see your phone.”
The man didn’t even have a cell phone? She opened her purse and handed him the slim, silver device.
His grin was pure devilish amusement as he punched in a number. “And a good day to you, Sara. Is Johnny around?”
“What are you doing?” She narrowed her eyes.
He smoothed his knuckles slowly down her cheek. “I’m taking care of the church and the preacher for tomorrow, Charlie. Think you can handle the rest?”
AARON RAISED HIS SHOT GLASS and clinked it against Johnny’s. “To a hundred grand,” he repeated Johnny’s toast and then chugged down the whiskey.
Raul Mendez, bartender and owner of the little waterfront, open-air dive, The Green Gecko, shook his head and scowled. “You really gonna go through with this?”
With three ex-wives, Raul looked a little sick at the thought.
“And she’s not even going to sleep with you?” Raul sloshed more whiskey into his glass and guzzled the contents in one swig.
“That pretty much sums it up.” Aaron grimaced, removed the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and stabbed it into an ashtray. “The sacrifices a man will make for his business.” He reached across the polished wood bar, grabbed the bottle, and poured himself another shot. “By this time tomorrow night, I’ll be a married man.” He tossed back the golden glass of courage. “Sexless marriage and money to fix my boat. What more could a guy ask for?”
Johnny shook his head. “Let me get this straight. You’ve finally met a woman you don’t want to bed and she’s the one you’ve decided to marry?”
“You make me sound like some gigolo, for God’s sake. The name of the game is money, and Charlotte Harrington has the money I need.”
“You don’t see anything wrong with marrying for money?” Raul asked.
“Women have been doing it for centuries. This is the new age. Equal rights and all that.” Aaron stared at the bartender. “Need I remind you why Rosa left your ass?”
Raul rubbed one hand across his forehead. “Money.”
“The root of all relationships, one way or another.”
“Make sure your lawyer looks over that prenup before you sign it,” Johnny advised. “From what I hear, Charlotte Harrington’s a cold-blooded businesswoman. You know the type. All work and no play.”
“Well, then maybe she won’t bother me too much during this circus.”
“SГ, she runs a tight ship, but Rosa says she’s a good boss,” Raul chimed in. “She says Senorita Harrington pays more than the other resorts and has good benefits.” He grabbed a towel from behind the bar and wiped down the polished surface. “Rosa thinks Senorita Harrington is lonely.” His eyes widened and he halted in midswipe. “Dios! Maybe she will enjoy having a man around and won’t give you a divorce!”
“I don’t have to worry about that.” Aaron chuckled. “I’m not Miss Haughty Harrington’s type. She’s champagne and caviar. I’m pretty much beer and pretzels.”
“I can picture you now bouncing a son on one knee and coddling a wee little daughter on the other,” Johnny said.
Aaron winced. “You got the wrong guy. I have no intention of contributing my defective gene pool to any urchins. For now, I plan to fix the Free Wind and concentrate on building the most successful charter business in the Keys, courtesy of the Ice Queen.” He raised his glass. “To weddings, my friends.”
“To weddings,” Johnny echoed.
Raul looked like he’d swallowed a rotten egg. “You gonna get frostbite.”
Aaron paid his tab and made his way back to his boat on foot. The smoky little bar wasn’t far from the slip where he docked the Free Wind and he needed some fresh air. Who was he kidding? He’d never even owned a car.
The night was balmy for early March, but a cool salty breeze rustled through the palm trees and fanned the hair off his neck.
God, he loved the Keys. Unspoiled by overdevelopment, far from Miami, a few exclusive resorts. Dressing for dinner meant putting on a shirt with buttons. He was his own boss. Nobody riding his case. Between the charter business and scuba instructing, he got by okay. At least he had until the past few months when his twenty-year-old engine had decided to play out. He could only wire it together for so long.
If Charlotte Harrington hadn’t been so desperate, the business would’ve been history. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. The kicker was he didn’t know how to do anything else.
Aaron stooped and picked up a small conch shell. He’d never thought of Charlie sexually. The lady was a workaholic. That hotel of hers ran as smooth as a perfectly tuned pair of twin turbos, but she didn’t seem to relax. He’d never heard anybody mention dating her or running into her at a club. Besides, her family owned a whole damn chain of hotels. She was so far above his reach the air she breathed was in a separate hemisphere.
He reared back his arm and lobbed the shell into the rolling Atlantic. The scorching summer afternoon he’d first met Ms. Harrington, she’d been wearing a navy suit with a silk blouse buttoned up to her chin. She’d stood out like a virgin in a whorehouse on the sweltering dock surrounded by people in shorts or swimsuits. How did she breathe in this tropical heat? But in three years, he’d never seen her look anything but calm, cool and collected.
Until this morning.
Grinding out his cigarette with his sneaker, he grinned. Charlie had squirmed when he’d put his hands on her today, as if his touch would soil her impeccable silk suit. Yet, her warm response to his kiss had been pretty damn willing.
What would cool, calm, collected Charlotte be like if she let her hair down? He’d never seen her thick dishwater-blond hair flowing free, not once. She always wore it twisted up in some French knot, or French braid, or French something. Man, her hair. It had to be long, and…
What was he thinking? He’d had too much to drink—and not near enough sex in the past few months.
Stepping across the gangplank onto the Free Wind, he climbed down the companionway to his cramped cuddy below deck and punched the switch on the radio.
He wasn’t going to miss sleeping on this bucket of bolts. A soft bed instead of a lumpy berth, a real bathroom instead of a closet he had to back into just to sit on the head, and best of all, funds to fix the Free Wind.
The reality started to sink in.
Flopping down on the berth, he listened to the ropes clanging against the mast of the sailboat in the next slip and tried to forget that this time tomorrow he’d be married. He linked his fingers behind his neck. But all he could picture was Charlie, sprawled across satin sheets, those long legs wrapped around him.
Had he lost his ever-loving mind?
AARON FROWNED AT EDWARD Harrington’s reflection in the department store mirror. The man had glued himself to his coattail like lint.
“A white tux?” Aaron shook his head, slipped out of the jacket, and tossed it back to the clerk. “Black.”
The clerk scurried off and old man Harrington shrugged. “Black is fine, if that’s what makes you comfortable. Do you love my granddaughter?”
Forcing himself not to react, he focused on his reflection, combing his fingers through his freshly trimmed hair. “Look, Mr. Harrington. We rushed the wedding up so you could be here, but other than that, stay out of our business.”
“My friends call me Edward.”
“So does your granddaughter,” Aaron commented.
“Yes, she does.” Harrington tilted his head. “Charlotte’s a smart woman. But, she needs a man who’ll help her slow down and enjoy life.”
“And you think Thurman would’ve done that?” Aaron scoffed in disbelief.
“Women need a family, a husband and children to love. A man to take care of them.”
“Charlie can take care of herself.” Aaron slipped into the elegant black jacket the clerk held up.
The last time he’d seen her, however, she’d been standing in the center of a horde of caterers and florists and looking as flustered as any real bride. Aaron grinned.
“Black suits you.” Harrington straightened Aaron’s jacket collar then selected a black bow tie from the two the clerk held out. “Pleated shirt and cuff links.”
Why argue? He figured the guy had forgotten more about fashion than Aaron had ever known. He could be a model for some upper-crust magazine like Senior GQ. A poor-as-dirt kid on the streets of Miami, Aaron had been lucky to have secondhand jeans.
Harrington held the tie up to Aaron’s white T-shirt then dropped his hand and pierced him with a menacing glare. “You do anything to hurt my granddaughter and I’ll ruin you. You’ll wish you’d never heard the name Harrington. You understand me?”
Aaron looked into his steel-gray eyes. How would he react when, instead of producing a baby in nine months, they produced divorce papers? “I’ll do everything in my power to make Charlie’s dreams come true.”
The man seemed to weigh his words. “I don’t trust you. Something isn’t on the level, but if you’re the man Charlotte loves, I won’t argue. Just keep in mind, I’ll be watching every move you make.”
He held his stare. “Yes, sir.”
“And as the new assistant manager, Perry will be here to keep an eye on the business.”
Aaron buttoned and then unbuttoned the jacket. No doubt, Perry was here to watch more than the business. The last thing they needed was Thurman snooping around.
He remained patient while they measured the tux for alterations. Before he could pay for the evening wear, Harrington handed the clerk a platinum card. Aaron started to object, but changed his mind. This whole charade was for the old man’s benefit, anyway. Why shouldn’t he shoulder the expense? Any man who’d force his own granddaughter to get married just to spawn an heir deserved whatever he got.
The clerk assured them the tux would be at the boat in forty-five minutes, altered, pressed and ready to go.
Aaron never failed to be amazed at the power of the almighty buck. “Great, I’ll have fifteen minutes to dress and get to my wedding. Nothing like cutting things to the last minute.”
“Do you have honeymoon plans?”
A pretend honeymoon wasn’t part of the bargain. He had to get his boat running in two weeks or he’d have to cancel the tours he had booked for Spring Break. “Maybe we’ll take a trip in the fall.”
“A good marriage deserves a good start. A couple days shouldn’t bankrupt either of you. Charlotte looks exhausted. Take time to relax and enjoy each other.”
The old geezer actually seemed excited about the prospect of Charlie getting laid. Did he think he could control their sex life, too? “Don’t you have other children or grandchildren to worry about?”
Harrington huffed. “My only son—the self-centered playboy—married a starlet with a brain the size of a pea. Two of a kind. They were killed nine years ago in the Alps when they ran their snowmobile off a cliff.”
“Charlie’s parents?” Aaron winced at Harrington’s nod, picturing how devastated self-reliant Charlotte probably was by the loss of her parents. “She must have been what, nineteen or twenty?”
“You two don’t talk much, do you?” Harrington asked.
“Hasn’t exactly been high on the priority list.”
The old man pursed his lips. “Don, Charlotte’s older brother, was in California at the time, studying acting. Like his mother in more ways than I care to discuss.” Edward took a breath. “And then there’s Charlotte.”
“And then there’s Charlotte,” Aaron repeated. “There is Charlotte.”
Chapter Three
Charlotte’s head throbbed. Things were happening too fast. How could her entire life turn upside-down in thirty-six hours?
The reflection in the pink marble-framed mirror was that of a stranger. Soft curls teased her cheek. She shifted from one satin stiletto to the other and tried to stand still as the hairdresser fussed with the placement of tiny flowers in her hair. She fingered her grandmother’s pearls. Today they felt more like a noose than a treasured family heirloom.
She’d never made use of the spa at the resort for more than an occasional massage, yet today Edward had pushed her into the shell-pink suites where her body had been massaged, waxed, buffed and conditioned. Her nails were French-tipped and the girl had painted a tiny white flower on her big toe. Subtle highlights streaked her freshly trimmed and curled hair. The artistically applied makeup put the two-minute blush and mascara she smeared on each morning to shame.
Edward had instructed Rosa, the woman who ran the resort boutique, to pick out a special outfit for the occasion. Rosa had been born with a rare gift for guessing a customer’s size, taste and credit limit in the span of twenty seconds. Always attentive to details, she’d included an array of accessories, right down to a lacy blue garter.
Charlotte felt like Cinderella. All this feminine pampering would have made her mother proud.
Still, it seemed senseless for a pretend wedding. Okay, so the wedding was real, but the marriage was temporary.
To satisfy the old saying, she had a blue garter, a new dress and the heirloom pearls she’d inherited after her grandmother died. Charlotte closed her eyes. Did a groom count as something borrowed?
She just wanted to get this dog and pony show over with. Focus on the goal. If they could pull this off, in six months Edward would sign the resort over to her, Aaron would be history, and she could put this insane charade behind her.
Charlotte blinked at her reflection. Who was this chic woman staring back? She was getting married in…She glanced at her Gucci watch and gulped. “I’m late.”
She smoothed her white linen tea-length gown, waved Rosa and the fretting hairdresser away, and hurried across the manicured lawn.
A lavish reception filled the Hibiscus Ballroom. Charlotte’s personal attorney had Aaron’s signature on the prenuptial agreement and the bank had approved the loan. Her stomach cramped. The payments on a hundred thousand dollars would put a sizeable crimp in her investment portfolio.
Palm trees swayed in the tropical breeze as Edward strolled down the sidewalk, looped his arm through hers, and whispered, “The most beautiful bride since your grandmother walked down the aisle fifty years ago. She’d be so proud. She worried that you wouldn’t take time for a family.”
Tears sprang to Charlotte’s eyes.
She squeezed his arm. How could she love someone so much and want to strangle him at the same time? As much as she hated his ability to manipulate her, there wasn’t a soul on earth who loved her except her grandfather. No matter how foolhardy his plan, his intentions were irreproachable.
They moved toward a small yacht that had sailed up to the resort dock an hour ago. It sported bright aquamarine trim and flew billowing flags. A dubious-looking captain in a flashy uniform stood at the helm amidst a forest of bright tropical flowers.
Bile rose in her throat.
You can do this. Just one foot in front of the other. The next time her feet touched this grass, she’d be a married woman. Married to Aaron Brody. She froze.
She hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe she could faint and save herself from this self-inflicted lunacy. Except she’d never fainted, not once in her entire life, so the chances of that feminine ploy saving her from this fiasco seemed remote.
A resort wedding created excitement, but today’s crowd seemed unusually enthusiastic. Guests stopped to smile and applaud as she passed. Aaron’s friends and a handful of her employees waved from the deck. Strange time to realize she didn’t have any friends, only business acquaintances.
Charlotte had always clung to the idea that if she ever did marry, it would be to a man she loved. A fat brown pelican taunted her from the corner post of the dock. So much for her one girlish fantasy. Clutching her grandfather’s arm, she took a tentative step onto the yacht. A step away from her safe world. A step toward her new life as a deceiver.
The bridal march began. Her eyes searched out Aaron standing at the front of the boat. She let out a relieved breath. He’d actually shown up.
It took a minute to recognize him. He looked elegant in a formal black tux. Like a gentleman—suave, calm, almost eager. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before the charming smile returned. His eyes smoldered as she walked down the short aisle.
Aaron swallowed a lump in his throat as he watched Charlie approach. My God, she’s regal. She radiated class from her upswept hair to the tip of her white sandals. Tall and slender, back straight as a soldier, head held proud, and wearing a flimsy white dress that rustled and clung to her curves as she glided toward him.
Tempting cleavage peeked out above the square neckline. Her arms were bare. Too bad the dress covered so much of her legs.
A few wispy strands of dark blond hair curled down her back and at her temples. Tiny white flowers cupped one side of her face in a gentle caress. She looked beautiful. Scared to death, but beautiful.
He crooked his arm and her grandfather placed her small hand on his forearm. Covering her slender fingers, he leaned close. “Slow and easy, Charlie.”
Barely listening to Johnny’s words as the ceremony progressed, he tamped down an unexpected surge of panic. He was getting—he swallowed—married. Married to a sophisticated heiress.
She had a wall full of diplomas and he hadn’t finished high school. He tugged at his constricting collar, reminding himself of the papers he’d signed today. He sure as hell hoped that lawyer of hers had been on the level when he’d explained the agreement, but Charlie would have turned gray at the altar waiting for him to muddle through all those legal terms.
A hundred thousand dollars, Brody.
Johnny cleared his throat and Aaron realized everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to speak. Charlie focused straight ahead, but her manicured fingernails dug into his arm.
“I do.”
The sound of released breaths, a few feminine sighs, and then Johnny recited some gibberish about rings being the symbol of eternity never broken.
Aaron took the ring out of his jacket pocket and slipped it onto Charlie’s finger. “It was my mother’s.” Why had he told her that?
She frowned at the cheap, tarnished band. Had she expected him to drop a bundle on a diamond?
“You may kiss your bride.”
Placing one hand at the small of her back, he slid his other around her shoulders. Her eyes were huge as they stared up at him. They were the most incredible shade of brown. Dark and rich like the first cup of morning coffee, a shade shy of black. Whether it was the apprehension in her expression or her racing heart, holding her was like holding a captive bird. He wasn’t sure if that was what turned him on, but something did. And she was his wife. For a few months, anyway.
He blinked and diverted his attention to her full lips. Pouting lips that turned down at the corners, waiting for him to take possession. His mouth closed over hers, gentle at first. The tip of his tongue teased her glossy lips apart.
Her body melted, becoming soft and pliant. He was amazed how small her waist was before his hands slid lower to pull her close. That frigid professional aura hid an exceptionally feminine body. Even her scent was an intoxicating fusion of self-assurance and vulnerability.
“Mmm,” she whispered.
That faint murmur made his brain fuzzy. He lost track of time acquainting himself with the phenomenon that was his wife. Her fingers curled around his neck and her tongue ventured out to meet his.
Charlie’s active participation in what started out as a simple kiss caught him off guard.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Brody.”
Aaron drew away from her mouth and took her hand. Cheers went up. Flower petals rained from the sky like a soft summer shower, blanketing the deck of the yacht in bright, fragrant color.
He looked at Charlie and winked.
They led their guests along the rambling sidewalk, across a narrow bridge that spanned the pool, and into the ballroom.
Mounds of delicacies adorned white linen-covered tables. Soft jazz filtered through the air from a band hidden away in the corner.
He put his arm around her waist as old man Harrington directed them to form a receiving line. Her expression hadn’t changed since she’d plastered on the China doll smile when Johnny pronounced them husband and wife.
Typical of the Keys, people took their time stopping to chat and congratulate them. She fidgeted and twisted her new ring. He hadn’t expected cool, calm, in-control Charlotte Harrington to get so uptight carrying out her calculated scheme.
He flagged down a waiter, snagged a glass of champagne, and offered it to his wife. His wife. “Take a sip. It’s hot in here.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
He took a drink and held the glass to her lips. “It’ll calm your wedding nerves.”
Taking the glass, she scowled. “It is warm.”
Aaron nodded at a passing waiter. “Could you see about cranking the air conditioner up a notch or two?”
“Yes, sir, right away.”
Rosa and Raul were the last to make their way through the line. Rosa kissed first the bride then Aaron’s cheek.
Raul’s smile sparked pure devilish enjoyment as he shook Aaron’s hand and leaned close. “Your wife is muy elegante.”
His friend was betting he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. He was careful that only Raul saw his obscene hand gesture. “Yes, she is.”
Raul slipped his arm around Rosa, as if they’d never divorced, and strolled away. Would he and Charlie be friends after their divorce? Aaron took his bride’s hand and raised his voice. “Let’s get this party rocking.” He nodded to the band and squeezed her hand. “May I have the pleasure of the first dance, Mrs. Brody?”
She hesitated. Would she actually turn him down?
“Come to me, beautiful lady.”
She came into his arms stiff and unsmiling, but into his arms all the same.
“Don’t overdo it,” she warned, before turning to grace the room with her plastic smile.
He led her onto the empty dance floor. The lights dimmed and it only took a second to recognize the band’s mellow rendition of “Strangers in the Night.” He had to laugh at the appropriateness. Had Charlotte picked it? More than likely Johnny or Raul had put them up to it.
Their bodies meshed from chest to knee, but her steps remained stilted. “Relax, sweetheart.”
“Call me sweetheart one more time and I’ll go dance with Edward.”
“He’s talking to Percy.” He considered Perry Thurman. “Not going to dance with my competition tonight, are you?”
“He was never anyone’s competition. And besides, who I’m interested in isn’t your concern.”
Aaron slowed the steps to a sway and placed his hand on her hip, moving her with him. Other couples joined them on the dance floor and he held Charlie close. He could act the part of the adoring groom as well as the next guy. “Trust me. You show interest in anyone except me during this marriage, I’ll make it my business. Making a fool of me wasn’t part of the bargain.”
“Oh, and you’re going to stay celibate for the next six months?” Her eyebrows drew together and she eased out of his arms. “We should mingle with our guests.” She grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and left him alone in the center of dancing couples.
Charlie gulped down the gold liquid as Perry moved in her direction. He touched her shoulder and without hesitation, she set her glass down and moved into the slime-bag’s arms.
Aaron willed his fist to unclench.
He hadn’t counted on Thurman breathing down their necks. He narrowed his eyes as Thurman’s hand snaked up Charlie’s side and his thumb rubbed the underside of her breast. Before Aaron could react, she took Don Juan’s hand and placed it back on her waist. Okay, he couldn’t very well stop her from dancing with the snake, but he didn’t have to stand here and watch.
The last brilliant shades of sunset were fading from the sky when Aaron stepped outside. One smoke and a couple minutes to get his head straight, then he’d go back in and decide whether to deck Thurman or drag his bride out of his clutches. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the building. What had possessed him to agree to this?
As he took a drag and watched a kid on the beach feeding a flock of seagulls, he caught a glimpse of someone stepping onto the deck. He remained in the shadows and watched old man Harrington stop and take a couple of deep breaths. Edward pressed a hand to his chest, leaned against the rail, and dug something out of his pocket. The man looked pale as he tilted his head back and placed a pill in his mouth.
Should he ask if Harrington needed help or would that embarrass him? He waited until the older man was breathing easier before stepping out of the shadows. “Nice evening.”
Harrington straightened and glanced casually over the ocean as if he hadn’t just been clutching his chest. “Why aren’t you inside with your bride?”
Holding up his cigarette, Aaron shrugged. “Just needed fresh air and a quick smoke.”
“How do you exist in this humidity?”
A fine sheen of sweat covered the guy’s ashen face. Taking another drag, Aaron snubbed his cigarette out in a concrete ashtray. “I could use a drink. How about you?”
“Something cold does sound good.”
“Thought I’d try the punch.” He stood back and allowed Edward to precede him inside. “Somebody has to drink it.”
Aaron handed Harrington a glass of pink punch and spotted Charlie standing beside a leafy palm. Before he could make his way across the room, Thurman appeared at her side, removed the glass from her hand, and guided her onto the dance floor. That made twice.
As Perry slid his arm around her waist, Charlotte noticed Aaron standing beside a table of caviar. She tried to focus on her dance partner and ignore the threatening glower on her husband’s face.
Aaron Brody was legally her husband. She missed a step at the realization. Was he serious about demanding fidelity? Was he planning to “cleave only unto her”? Right! And the colorful tropical sun would set in the east tomorrow.
She couldn’t complain about Perry’s dancing, but the hand slithering down her back was another matter. He gently squeezed her hip. “You look wonderful tonight.”
She grabbed his hand and guided it back to her waist, grinding her heel into his foot. “Don’t start this.”
He moved his foot back. “I’ve never loved another woman like I love you. I always thought…” Perry’s breath stirred her hair and his tone sounded wistful, but all she felt was disgust.
Why the sudden interest after six years? Perry didn’t do anything without a self-serving motive.
Edward tapped Perry’s shoulder and she gratefully moved into her grandfather’s arms.
Edward scrutinized her face, as if her debauchery was tattooed on her forehead. “Are you happy?”
Smiling took a concerted effort. “Of course.”
He patted her back. “You look a bit nervous.”
“You know me. I worry about everything. As fast as we threw this together, I keep thinking I’ve forgotten something.”
“Everything you do is done to perfection.”
Tears stung her eyes, and that made twice today. Her grandparents had taken care of her most of her life. Even before her parents died, she and Don had lived with them. Her mother and father had always been jetting off to a party at some villa or mountain resort.
He pressed her face against his shoulder. “Promise that if that groom of yours hurts you in any way, you’ll let me know.”
“Aaron would never hurt me.” If he did, she wouldn’t need Edward’s help. She’d kill him herself.
“Well, I’ll have to take your word for that. I just hope you know more about him than the size of his…”
“Edward!”
He spun her around. “I wasn’t born yesterday, my dear.”
Charlotte tried to relax and enjoy the reception, but every time she looked up, Aaron was whisking some other woman around the dance floor. He had all the right moves. Probably from all those bars he frequented. When he wasn’t dancing, he was drinking with his buddies.
She turned and found Perry at the other end of the table watching her watch Aaron. He sidled up to Edward and she shuddered at what he was undoubtedly whispering in the older man’s ear.
If she and Aaron intended to fool anyone, they needed to appear to enjoy each other’s company.
She gritted her teeth and pushed through the crowd of men gathered around her husband. “Hi, darling. Come dance with me.” She grinned at the group of laughing, half-drunk males. “Sorry, fellows, but I’m stealing my groom.”
Aaron’s arm slid around her waist as if it was the most natural position in the world, holding her close as he delivered the punch line of the joke he’d been telling. His hand dropped lower to caress her backside.
Resisting the urge to yank his hand away, she put her arm around his waist and tugged him away from his rowdy friends.
She placed her other arm around his neck, leaned close, and waltzed him onto the dance floor. “You aren’t very convincing as the adoring groom.”
Aaron rubbed his nose against hers and spoke into her mouth. “Then try this. Stay away from Percy or you’ll find out how well I play the role of jealous husband.”
“You have the nerve to worry about Percy? I mean Perry. You’ve danced with every woman in the room.”
“If you were dancing with different men, I wouldn’t mind. But how does it look that you’ve danced with Percy three times?”
He was counting? “And I’ll dance with him again, if I want.”
Aaron spun her in his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Go ahead. I’m not too high-class to make a scene. You’re mine, sweetheart. At least for the next few months.”
Her temper wanted to fight, but her common sense warned her not to argue in front of the guests. “I don’t belong to you or anybody else.” Backing away, she tugged him toward the table where the wedding cake waited. “Shall we cut the cake, darling?”
The photographer snapped pictures as Aaron placed his hand over hers on the knife and they cut the first slice out of the towering white-and-pink creation. She smelled the alcohol on his breath, but at least he didn’t mush the cake in her face.
Her relief was short-lived however, when to everyone’s delight, he licked a crumb from the corner of her mouth. Her face heated as the room erupted into applause.
Then guests toasted them to everything from good luck to advice on how to maintain a long and fruitful marriage. She tried to keep from spitting champagne when the inebriated ship’s captain toasted to a wild and passionate wedding bed.
Aaron didn’t seem to mind the fellow’s bad taste. He held up his glass and downed the contents. Every time she’d looked at him tonight, he’d been drinking.
Rosa set her glass down and handed Charlotte the bouquet. “Time to offer us single women a chance.”
That sounded painless enough. She smiled, took the bridal bouquet, and waited for the women to gather. Rosa stood in the center, flanked by a couple other women who worked at the resort and a stunning Caribbean beauty. Even Zelda, Charlotte’s latest assistant, joined in. Fifteen or more eager women battled for positions.
“Everybody ready?” she asked before turning her back. “Here goes.” She tossed the bouquet to the chorus of excited squeals. She turned to find the Caribbean beauty clutching the bouquet to her breast like a treasure, but it wasn’t her young escort who caught the girl’s eye. It was Aaron.
Charlotte frowned, but before she had a chance to dwell on that, one of the men shoved Aaron toward her. “Your turn, my friend. Guys get their shot at the garter.”
She gulped and shook her head. “I don’t think—”
Aaron knelt down on one knee and rubbed the back of her ankle, flashing a devilish grin. “Can’t disappoint the gentlemen, now can we, Charlie?”
His hand scorched through her stockings as he cupped the back of her knee. The other hand placed her foot on his bent leg. She held her breath and stared as he eased her skirt up her thigh and gently stroked upward in a reverent caress until he reached the lacy garter. Her skin burned as his fingers skimmed her inner thigh. She sucked air into her lungs.
Aaron slid the garter slowly down her thigh, over her knee, and along her calf while she watched, mesmerized. He stretched the garter over her shoe and caressed the back of her leg as he softly kissed her knee.
“Incredible legs,” he whispered, placing her foot back on the floor and glancing up into her face.
She diverted her eyes, refusing to react. Yet, her traitorous body responded too readily. Her stomach fluttered and she felt flushed and jittery. The imprint of his hands still seared her leg. Damn Aaron Brody!
Chapter Four
Was she drunk? Charlotte brushed sticky tendrils of hair off her neck as she and Aaron wound their way to her clapboard bungalow. Her eyes refused to focus. She had consumed more alcohol tonight than during her entire college tenure.
It was past 2:00 a.m. but that didn’t stop Edward and Perry from chaperoning them to the door.
She didn’t miss the folded check Edward discreetly pressed into Aaron’s palm as they shook hands. “Just a little wedding present.”
Aaron unfolded the check and glanced down. His lips tightened and he shoved it back into her grandfather’s hand. “I can’t accept this.”
“You’re family now. There’s no reason you shouldn’t accept it.”
Aaron’s jaw muscle ticked. “But—”
“Good night.” Edward slid the check into Aaron’s jacket pocket and stepped back.
Perry shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked on his heels. “Well, Brody, I should say congratulations. Charlotte’s made her choice, better man and all that.” The veiled threat in his eyes wasn’t lost on Charlotte.
“No problem, Percy.” Aaron scooped Charlotte into his arms, opened his mouth over hers, and sucked every ounce of air from her lungs. All she could breathe was Aaron. He broke the kiss and squeezed her bottom. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s our honeymoon.”
With that, he swung her through the door and kicked it shut behind them, leaving Edward and Perry on the porch. But Aaron was still fondling her derriere.
She squirmed. “Show’s over. You can put me down.”
He released her, sliding her body down the length of his and running his hands along her sides. Stopping at her breasts, he growled low in his throat and moved his hands to the front, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples.
A raw ache shot from her breasts to the juncture of her thighs. Embarrassed by her body’s betrayal, she knocked his hands away. “Don’t do that!”
He chuckled and turned to lock the door. “The flesh is willing, but the spirit’s weak,” he misquoted under his breath.
There was only enough light in the room to make out his smug smile, but she itched to slap it off his face.
His hand covered hers as she reached for the light switch. “No lights, sweetheart.”
This sweetheart thing was wearing thin. “So I should just stand here in the dark and let you fondle me?”
“They’re going to watch this place like vultures the next few minutes. If we turn on lights they’ll know which room we’re in.”
His nonromantic, logic-based request chafed. “Well, we should close the shutters then, shouldn’t we?” She turned toward the nearest window and flipped the slats down. The inky darkness engulfed them like an intoxicating cloud.
She heard Aaron’s erratic breathing behind her as his hands tugged at her loose chignon. The pins pinged as they landed on the hardwood floor.
He plunged his fingers into her hair and murmured, “I knew it would be long and silky.”
Fighting for control, she tugged her hair out of his grasp and stepped around him. “I’ll get linens for the sofa.”
Aaron caught her arm to slow her down and fingered the flowers that miraculously still clung to the tendrils of hair around her face. “You look stunning tonight.” He began a slow seduction of her mouth, angling her head to penetrate deeper and rubbing his rock-hard length against her stomach.
Her head tilted into his palm, but her eyes remained open, leery, watching him. He tasted of champagne and wedding cake, a heady combination.
Long-dormant impulses caught fire, but she fought to maintain her decorum as his lips enticed hers to participate in his seductive game. The tip of his tongue tickled the inside of her top lip. She closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation. Aaron Brody knew how to kiss. Plenty of practice, from all accounts.
This was nuts. After Perry’s betrayal, she’d promised herself never to allow anyone to use her again. Aaron had married her for one purpose—money. He wasn’t even attracted to her.
She squeezed her arms between them and pushed, fighting his weight and will. “We agreed. No sex.”
He grabbed her hand and placed it on his hard shaft, pushing into her palm. “I never agreed to no sex. That was your idea.” He nibbled his way down her neck.
Charlotte shivered as he pulsed beneath her palm. It had been so long. And if she dared to be honest with herself, she’d thought about Aaron Brody’s toned body quite often over the past three years. But she knew little or nothing about this man. And what she did know, she wasn’t sure she even liked.
She snatched her hand away. “Aaron.”
“Shh,” he whispered, planting a trail of feverish, wet kisses across her shoulder. “It’s our wedding night, Charlie.”
His body was paradise, hard and ready to fulfill the fantasies he’d fueled that first day she’d seen him working on his boat in nothing but those stupid shorts.
Charlotte took a step back, but Aaron countered with one forward, dragging the back of his rough knuckles across her cheek in a feather-soft caress.
He took another step forward and she backed away. His palm turned and cradled her cheek as his tongue mated with hers, kissing her deep and hard, warm and wet, promising exquisite ecstasy.
What was she doing? She must be drunker than he was. It was dangerous to even think these thoughts. Husband or not, she hardly knew him. Yet with a few practiced kisses and gropes, he’d managed to turn her brain to mush. Forcing her legs to move, she took another step back from his sexual heat, but her back hit the wall.
Aaron leaned in, captured her right breast, and deepened the kiss. In pure panic, she ducked under his arm and wriggled free.
He groaned, resting his forehead against the wall. “Charlie.”
The room was too dark to read his expression as he pushed off the wall and turned toward her, but it didn’t take a genius to read his mind.
“I’m not doing this.” She stepped into the bathroom, closed the door, and leaned against its protective barrier.
She’d take bets that in high school Aaron Brody had been every father’s nightmare.
Flipping on the light, she reached behind her neck and unclasped her grandmother’s pearls. Staring at her reflection, she wondered how she’d compare to his host of lovers. Too skinny? Too flat? Too brainy? She’d heard it all. Then, in college, when she’d finally trusted Perry and opened her heart to him, he’d betrayed her. He’d had sex with some brainless bimbo and they’d laughed at her.
But Aaron hadn’t laughed, a small voice whispered. Yeah, but he was too drunk to care, her practical side countered.
Easing the door open, she followed a trail of clothes and found Aaron lying across the bed flat on his stomach, illuminated by stripes of moonlight filtering through the bedroom shutters. Stunned by his nakedness, all she could do was stare wide-eyed at the exquisite specimen of raw masculinity in her bed.
Lord have mercy, his body was perfect. His arms raised above his head emphasized the muscled physique of a man who daily earned his living swimming and hauling heavy scuba gear. Muscled back, narrow hips, tight little butt.
Her breath caught. The events of the past two days were surreal. She hadn’t set out to marry Aaron Brody, it had just sort of happened.
Burrowing deeper into her thick terry-cloth robe, she forced herself to approach the bed. “Aaron,” she whispered. “What have we done?”
No response.
She touched his shoulder. “Aaron?”
He didn’t move. His only answer was a soft, rhythmic snore.
Her groom was sound asleep.
AARON OPENED ONE EYE and groaned as the light stabbed a knife of pain through his temples. An army of construction workers ran jackhammers inside his head. Closing his eyes, he willed the wrecking crew to take a break.
He rolled over and squinted, but his stomach churned. This time he caught a glimpse of a tall bedpost, with a canopy frame. He steeled himself for the pain and opened his eyes.
The walls were white, with a couple of bright photographs of flowers. The furniture looked expensive, too contemporary for his taste, white like the rest of the room. A huge white ceiling fan rotated slowly above the bed.
Where—He bolted up and grabbed his throbbing head, suddenly remembering. Charlotte Harrington! Correction—Charlotte Brody.
The past forty-eight hours slapped him in the face, but he could only remember bits and pieces after he and Charlie arrived at the bungalow.
He was in Charlie’s bed, but where was she?
Coffee. He needed hot, black coffee. He lifted the sheet and stumbled naked out of the bedroom, in search of the kitchen.
He stopped when he saw his wife—his wife!—curled up on the sofa. She looked innocent and fragile, sleep-flushed, her lips slightly parted. Nothing like the hard-assed woman the resort employees called the Ice Queen.
Vague remembrances of last night flashed through his pounding head as he squatted in front of this stranger he’d married. Every time Thurman had danced with Charlie, Aaron had sloshed down another beer. He couldn’t figure out why her dancing with that jackass had bothered him so much.
He lifted the crocheted afghan and took a long look. Gray knit sleep shorts cupped the curve of her hips, leaving her long legs exposed for his pleasure. The tiny lavender crop top didn’t quite meet the waistband of the shorts. Not exactly a wedding night negligee, but sexy in a Charlie sort of way. Her dark nipples puckered beneath the thin, soft fabric, rising and falling as she slept.
One thing that came back to him with stark clarity from the night before was how perfectly those breasts fit his hands. Her body had enough curves to keep things interesting. A couple strands of blond hair cascaded over her shoulder and between her breasts.
Unable to resist, he rubbed the silky tresses between his thumb and forefinger and brought them to his nose. Coconut.
He stared at her legs. Long, luscious legs. He could imagine them wrapped around his hips as he—
Dropping the afghan across her lower body, he slogged through the foggy muck in his mind.
He had a vague recollection of making out with her. Of her body in his arms.
She’d seemed as turned on as he had, but then she’d bolted like some schoolgirl who’d just found herself alone with a man for the first time. Guess the heiress didn’t want to lower herself to make love with a scuba guide. He didn’t delude himself about why he was here. He was good enough to help save her business, but not to warm her bed.
Fine. She didn’t want to have sex with him during this ridiculous marriage. He had plenty to keep him busy. His boat required major repairs. His books were a mess and he had to find somebody to print up a first-class brochure.
But Mrs. Brody wasn’t getting off the hook that easy. They still had to fool her grandfather.
Using the lock of hair for a feather, he trailed it around her nipple then upward until it tickled the end of her cute little nose.
She sniffed and swatted at it as if it was a pesky fly.
Pausing long enough for her to relax, he repeated the procedure.
Her nose wrinkled and her hand swiped it away, coming into contact with his.
Charlie’s eyes flew open and she turned to stare. “Ohh,” she groaned, massaging her temples. “My head.”
“Good morning, wife.”
She scrunched her eyes closed.
He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t think he could stand the pain. “You know, the locals have a special cure for hangovers.”
“They do?” She peered through squinted eyes.
He leaned close until their lips touched. “It’s called—” he covered her mouth and kissed her until she began to actively participate in the game “—una copa rica de café! But you’ll have to make your own coffee. I have a business to run.” He pushed away and stood up, flashed her a wicked grin, and headed to the bathroom.
CHARLOTTE STOPPED ON THE WAY to her office to put her grandmother’s pearls back in the hotel safe, dragging in after ten to find Perry Thurman looking comfortable and relaxed behind her desk.
“What are you doing in my office?”
He eased her lap drawer closed. “Just helping out. We assumed you’d take a few days off to…well, you know.”
“How dare you search my desk? And don’t just assume you can use my office.” She raised her eyebrows in a haughty look she’d learned from her grandfather.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Perry stood and shoved a legal-sized sheet of paper in her direction. “But at some point we need to discuss this.”
Oh, God! Had he found her copy of the prenuptial?
She rubbed the back of her neck, stepped closer, and glanced at the paper. It wasn’t the prenup. Feeling her heart start to beat again, she narrowed her eyes at Perry. “What is it?”
“You pay your front desk staff ten percent more than market. Could be why this resort isn’t turning the profit it should.”
Every word out of his mouth infuriated her. She called on her depleting reserve of calm professionalism. “Don’t question my management decisions.”
Perry remained behind her desk, wearing an innocent smile.
She moved into position on the other side of her chair and crossed her arms.
He didn’t budge. “Charlotte, please tell me you didn’t marry Brody just to hang on to the resort. I feel responsible. If I hadn’t hurt you so badly before, maybe you wouldn’t have rushed into this marriage so quickly.”
Swallowing her disgust, she stared him straight in the eyes. “I didn’t rush into anything. I’ve been in love with Aaron for three years,” she lied.
“You’ve been having an affair with this guy that long and never mentioned him to Edward?” He laughed. “What can someone of your upbringing have in common with a guy like him?”
“You couldn’t possibly understand.” Being rejected by a woman he didn’t want for a man he considered rungs beneath him had to be a blow to Perry’s sizable ego. She walked around the desk, opened the door, and gestured him out. “Anything else?”
He swallowed, shook his head, and left her in blissful silence.
She shut the door behind him and leaned against it to regain her composure. Six months of this?
Perry was a poor loser. And as shrewd as he was unscrupulous. He might fool everyone else with this caring pretense, but not her. He had something up his sleeve and whatever it was, it had more to do with his quest for power than his heart.
She buzzed Zelda and asked her to bring in coffee. Although, the way her head pounded, she wasn’t sure coffee was going to be enough today.
Remembering Aaron’s “cure” of black coffee, she nearly choked. He’d seemed completely at ease with his nudity this morning. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine herself traipsing around her bungalow in the buff. Not in this lifetime.
Blinking Aaron out of her mind, she grabbed her purse and rummaged for her bottle of aspirin. Finally, she gave up and dumped the contents on the desk. What was that? A check made out to Aaron from her grandfather in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars. On the notation line it simply said, Best Wishes.
She folded the check and stashed it in her wallet to deal with another day. Aaron had every legal right to cash it, but he’d left it in her purse?
Popping the top off the bottle, she shook two tablets into her hand and laid them aside, waiting on the coffee.
What had Perry really been doing in her office? If he got wind of the prenuptial or the loan she’d taken out, the game was over.
She shuffled through her lap drawer, and then flipped through the caddy where Zelda left the mail.
“Maybe I lucked out this time.” When the documents arrived, she’d store them in her safe deposit box and have all the locks changed on the office. She drummed her fingers on the desk. The snake had already charmed the keys out of either Edward or Zelda.
The savory aroma of steaming coffee followed Zelda into the office. Bless the girl’s efficiency.
“Have a seat, Zelda.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Zelda tugged at her miniskirt and wiggled into the wing chair.
Charlotte noted her tight blouse and lime green skirt and made a note to discuss proper office attire—tomorrow.
Zelda had only been in the position two weeks. She had to be better than the last girl who quit to stay home with her baby. Baby or not, how could a woman trust a man enough to be solely dependent on him? Charlotte would never give any man that much control.
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