The Temporary Mrs. King (10 page)

“Sounds fabulous,” she said, easing toward the ladder.

“Taste even better,” he assured her and opened his eyes to look directly into hers. “Katie's a goddess when it comes to cookies.?…”

She couldn't stop. She took one step, then another and before she knew it, she was standing directly in front of
the man who was driving her absolutely out of her mind. “Are you going to share?”

“Everything,” he assured her, but offered her the box of cookies as if he could take the sexual heat out of that one, single word.

Keeping her gaze fixed on his, Melinda picked up a cookie, took a bite and instantly felt the buttery, chocolate-swirled confection melt in her mouth. A sigh slipped from her throat before she could stop it, and Sean smiled and nodded in understanding.

“See? Did I tell you that Katie's a queen?”

“Maybe you should have married her.” Melinda was getting a little tired of hearing how wondrously fabulous the great Katie King was. Even though, she had to admit, the woman's cookies were completely amazing.

“Rafe wouldn't have liked that much,” Sean said, setting the box of cookies down on one of the blue leather bench seats. “Besides,” he said as he turned to her, “I've got a wife.”

Her breath hitched in her chest as Sean stepped closer to her. Heat poured off his body and reached for hers. But she was already feeling as though she was standing in the caldera of a raging volcano.

The tension that had been building between them for weeks now suddenly boiled up and spilled over. She'd tried so hard to stay true to Steven's memories, but Sean had chipped away at her distance, at her resolve, until nothing was left.

And maybe, she thought, she didn't
want
to resist anymore. Maybe she simply wanted to
be
. To feel. To release all of the pent-up pressure inside her. The look in his eyes told her that he was feeling everything she was and Melinda knew, without a doubt, that she was about to give in
to what her body had been clamoring for the last several days.

Her mouth went dry and the cookie might as well have been made of sawdust. He plucked it from her fingers, and tossed it overboard. “Hey!”

“Give the fish a treat,” he said, then bent his head to hers. “And speaking of treats…”

“Sean—” Call it one last-ditch effort to remember that pesky celibacy vow.

He stopped, stared into her eyes and whispered, “No thinking.”

She nodded slowly and mentally let go of the threads holding her self-control together. “Good plan.”

Every inch of her was quivering. He set his hands at her waist and pulled her in close, and she fought for air. Melinda was strung so tight, even her heartbeat felt thready. She'd been fighting her own instincts, her own urges, for so long now it should have been second nature.

But the truth was, she didn't want to fight against what she was feeling. What she
felt
for Sean. She wanted him more than she wanted air. She needed him to touch her, kiss her—and more. She wanted it all.

She needed it now.

The instant his mouth came down on hers, her brain shut down completely. There were too many sensations rocketing around her insides to allow a single, coherent thought. He parted her lips with his tongue and the quick, hard strokes he used to take her mouth only fed the fires engulfing her.

Her arms went around him, hands splayed on his back as she held him to her, closer. Closer. She met his kiss eagerly, their tongues tangled and twined together. Their breath met and collided, sliding from one to the other.

His hands swept up and down her back, sliding beneath
her tank top. He unhooked her bra with practiced ease, his nimble fingers making short work of the two tiny hook-and-eye closures. And then he eased away, sweeping her shirt up and over her head, her bra along with it.

The cool wind caressed her skin and she felt…deliciously wicked, standing in front of his admiring gaze. He lifted his hands to cup her breasts and his thumbs and fingers tweaked and pulled gently at her erect nipples until she moaned and swayed unsteadily on her feet. Tingles of awareness, anticipation, rippled through her. Melinda arched into him, her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she let wave after wave of pleasure slide through her relentlessly.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, gaze darkening with a passion that matched her own.

She wanted to feel his skin beneath her hands, touch him the way he was touching her, and she didn't want to wait another minute.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, she muttered, “Take this off.”

He did, yanking it over his head and tossing it to the deck in one quick move. She sighed as she slid her palms across a chest that was so tanned and well-defined, he could have been a statue created by some master sculptor. But he was real and warm and when she touched him, he hissed in a breath through clenched teeth. She smiled to know that he was as affected as she.

But her smile only lasted a moment before he was pulling her in close again, molding their bodies together until Melinda could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest. His mouth took hers, claiming her completely, and she gave herself up to the wonder of it.

Again and again, his tongue caressed hers, as he shifted his grip on her. One hand cupped her breast, fingers tug
ging at her nipple, while the other slid down to the snap and zipper of her shorts. He undid them, then moved his hand lower, across her abdomen to the juncture of her thighs.

A hot, aching need centered at her core and the moment he touched her, Melinda tore her mouth from his and gasped at the jolt of pleasure that shot through her. She had wanted so long, needed so long, that her nerve endings were electrified. The slightest touch would have her exploding in a release she knew would be shattering.

But he seemed to know that, too. Instead of caressing her most sensitive spot, sending her into the climax that hovered just out of reach, he dipped his hand lower until he could explore her depths. First one finger, then two, reached inside her, stroking, caressing the inner walls of her body until Melinda was parting her legs wider for him, rocking into his hand, helpless against the onslaught of sensations pulsing inside her.

“Come on, Melinda,” he said, watching her through slitted eyes glazed with desire, “let go. Let me watch you go.?…”

“Sean—” She gasped his name, breathing hard, her vision blurred at the edges as she saw only him. Felt only what he was doing to her. The sunlight was too bright, the shade too dark and all around her, the world seemed to take a breath and hold it.

“Do it, Melinda.” He dipped his head and kissed the line of her throat, nibbling at her pulse point, dragging his tongue along her skin.

She shivered in response and reached again for the release she felt coiled and clawing inside her. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as her hips moved in a rhythm that was fast and desperate. She locked her gaze with his, fired her emotions with the power of his. He rubbed his
thumb across her core, and her body clenched around his hand. She felt her climax building, spiraling tighter and tighter inside her until at last, she cried out his name and lost herself in his pale blue eyes as her body splintered with a crashing release.

Breath heaved in and out of her lungs. Her legs buckled and threads of pleasure were still sliding through her when Sean picked her up and then laid her down on one of the cushioned benches on either side of the boat. The blue leather was warm against her back and she stretched languidly as she watched him peel the rest of his clothing off in a flash.

Her breath caught at the glorious sight of him. He was bigger, harder than she'd expected and that liquid heat at her core exploded in renewed anticipation. Lost to anything but the promise of more intense pleasure, she tugged at her shorts and panties, desperate to be free of them.

“You're killin' me,” he muttered, that half smile firmly in place. He paused to grab his wallet and pull a condom from it before turning back to her. Locking his gaze with hers, he sheathed himself then reached for her.

“I want you inside me, Sean,” she whispered, and she saw a flash of hunger dazzle his eyes briefly. “I need you.”

“I know.”

Melinda lifted her hips so he could tug her shorts and panties down the rest of the way, then she parted her thighs for him in silent invitation.

“Gotta have you,” Sean whispered, his voice low and scratchy with the need driving him.

“Yes, Sean. Please, yes.”

He covered her with his body, and she lifted her legs to draw him in. The tip of him brushed against her core, and Melinda groaned, arching and writhing, trying to get him inside where she wanted him.

But he held back, made her want. Made her crave.

His fingers moved over her center in slow circles, rubbing, caressing, until she was trembling from reawakened passion and a more consuming need.

She gulped at air, stared up at the wide sky above them and demanded, “Sean, inside me. Now.”

“Almost,” he ground out, and she knew that even as he pushed her higher and higher, the wait for completion was just as hard on him.

“You're making us
both
crazy, here,” she told him, sparing a second to give him a heated glare.

“I know. But it's gonna be great.”

Her hands rubbed over his chest, pausing to flick at his flat nipples with her thumbs. She heard his breath coming fast and furious, and she knew it wouldn't be much longer before he gave her what she wanted. Before he pushed himself inside her and took them both where they needed to be.

“Damn it, Melinda, I've been thinking about this moment nonstop for weeks now. I want to make it last.”

“I've been thinking about it too,” she admitted, “and I just
want
it.”

He shook his head and gave her a hard look as she reached down between them to run her fingers over the sensitive tip of him.

He hissed in another breath and closed his eyes as if fighting for control. But she didn't want him controlled. Not now. Not when her decision had been made and they were finally where they wanted to be. She wanted him as frenzied as she felt. She wanted him to experience everything she was.

Looking up into his eyes, Melinda could hardly believe what she was feeling. She'd never known anything like this. Not with Steven. Not with anyone. Sean took her
places she hadn't known existed. Made her soar higher and faster than she had ever been before. Only moments ago, she'd had the most shattering orgasm of her life and already she wanted another one.

And then another.

His touch. His kiss. His body against hers.

The water slapped against the hull of the boat. Birds sang in the trees, and the wind was a constant caress against her skin. It was a beautiful day.

And it was about to get even better.

H
er fingers closed around him and he groaned, knowing he couldn't wait another second.

Caught in his own trap, Sean surrendered to the inevitable and pushed himself into Melinda's welcoming heat. And with that first, intimate slide of their bodies, he was lost.

Watching her pleasure as he took her only fed his own. Looking into her eyes and seeing them glaze over with passion spiked something inside him he'd never known before. He couldn't identify it—wouldn't even try.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, she hooked her ankles at the small of his back, pulling him deeper, higher. He looked down at her and watched satisfaction, chased by hunger play across her features.

Something fisted around his heart, but he ignored it. This was about sex. Passion.
Lust
.

This he knew something about.

This was what he'd been urging Melinda toward for weeks. This moment when she released her past and roared back to life. And he wouldn't waste a minute of it in self-reflection.

He sat back on his heels, drawing her up with him. Their bodies still locked tightly together, he held onto her hips and guided her as she began to move on him. Her breath came in short, hard gasps. Her eyes were fixed with his as she twisted atop him, making him feel so much more than he ever had before.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Sean. This. Is. So. Good.”

“Damn straight,” he muttered thickly, dipping his head to nip at one of her nipples.

She groaned and moved faster, harder atop him.

“Take me, Melinda,” he urged through gritted teeth. “Take all of me.”

“Yes. Yes.” She increased the rhythm, and his grip on her hips tightened, helping her move, maintaining that synchronicity that was singing between them.

He felt the first shuddering explosion grab her, and, as she gave herself up to it, her body tightened around his, pushing him over the edge. His body erupted into hers, and the sound of her voice shouting his name was the best thing he'd ever heard.

Her hips moved reflexively and he went with her, riding that pleasure wave together until, finally, they clung to each other in the shattering aftermath.

 

Minutes later, they were still there, on the bench, bodies joined, each of them trying to even out their breathing. Melinda's forehead rested on his shoulder, and Sean swiped his hands up and down her back. His heart was racing and he was pretty sure his brain had melted.

Wrapping his arms around her, he silently marveled at the fact that this one small, curvy woman had knocked him right off balance. She had completely blindsided him, and Sean couldn't even make sense of the jumbled thoughts churning through his still-buzzing mind.

The sigh of her breath touched something inside him. As unprepared as he was for the sensation, he knew he had to say
something
, to break up this little tableau.

Finally, he blurted out, “I must have been a bastard in a previous life.”

“What?” She jerked her head up to look at him in confusion.

He shrugged. “It's the only way to explain how I keep ending up on sofas and benches that are too short and too damn narrow.”

Melinda just stared at him for a long second or two, then a short laugh shot from her throat and he felt it all the way down to their joining. He gritted his teeth as his body leaped into life again, then narrowed his eyes on her. “What are you laughing at?”

“Sorry, sorry.” She shook her head and admitted, “It's just that the first time I saw you on the couch in our suite, I felt so bad for you, but…”

“
But
?”

“Well,” she said, still smiling, “you looked so funny. Your legs hanging over the edge, your feet sticking out from under the blanket.”

Subtext
, he told himself with an inner smile, she had watched him sleeping. That was excellent news that he would think more about later.

For now, he gave her a mocking glare. This was good. He had wanted her thinking only about him. There were no painful memories crowding around her. No thoughts of
Steven encroaching on them. Here and now, it was just the two of them. So he did what he could to keep it that way.

“Thought I looked funny on that miserable excuse for furniture that you call a couch, huh?” He lifted her off of his lap, though he missed the feel of her body joined with his. “You know what I think is really funny?”

He stood up, swung her into his arms and she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Sean…”

He carried her to the edge of the boat. “I said something about a swim, didn't I?”

“Come on, cut it out.” Her legs kicked, and she pushed ineffectually at his chest in a futile attempt to get free. She flashed a look at the crystal-clear water below her then back to him again. “Sean, you wouldn't…”

“Sure I would.” He paid no attention to the way she was squirming in his arms. “Now, now, watch how you're kicking,” he warned. “Don't want to hurt anything we might need later.”

She laughed. “If you do what I think you're going to do, we won't be needing anything later.?…”

Sean gave her a wounded look. “Now see, that's just mean.”

“You nut,” she said laughing, “put me down.”

“I don't think so,” he continued, paying no attention to the way she was squirming in his arms, “we've got the ‘skinny' part handled. Now all we need is the ‘dipping.'”

And he dropped her.

Her shriek was cut off when she hit the water and went below the surface. He was watching when she bobbed right back up, pushing her hair out of her eyes and sputtering up at him. “You rotten, no-good, sneaky—”

He jumped in right beside her. The water was cool and clear. He opened his eyes underwater and got a great view
of Melinda's amazing body before he kicked out and shot to the surface.

“You rat,” she shouted and slapped a small wall of water into his face with the flat of her hand.

He ignored that, reached for her and yanked her in close. Then he kissed her, cutting her rant off midstream. She didn't seem to mind though, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kicked her legs in time with his to keep them afloat.

When he finally pulled back, he looked into her eyes and whispered, “The only thing better than dry sex?
Wet
sex.”

She leaned in, nipped at his bottom lip and whispered, “Prove it.”

Sean grinned. “I love convincing a skeptic.”

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It's beautiful, that's why.”

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

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.” He nodded.

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

“No chance of that,” Sean murmured.

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Dinner with her grandfather went well.

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

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

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

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