The Temporary Mrs. King (4 page)

Rafe and Lucas could go on for hours and Sean knew it. Their argument would slide from Sean to their current project and might even drift to old grudges from when they were all kids.

He smiled in spite of his headache.
All
of his brothers were close. Their father, Ben King, had never married any of the women who bore his many sons, but every summer, he gathered his sons together at his ranch in California. For three months every year, the King boys were real brothers and they had forged a bond that had only gotten stronger over the years.

Sean's smile faded a bit as he thought about his parents. Ben had done the best he could, he knew. But Sean's mother had been too fragile to deal with life. Too…breakable to leave the man she had eventually married, even when the abuse began and—

“Sean!”

He came up out of the misery of his memories with a grateful start. Looking at his brothers' identical expressions, he cleared his throat and said, “There is no blonde.”

“Well that's something anyway,” Rafe muttered.

“She's got black hair,” Sean said. But that didn't describe Melinda's hair either. More like the color of deepest night, when a man's dreams and fantasies came to life. When a woman with eyes like hers and a touch that was all heat could turn even the strongest man into Jell-O.

He sighed, letting her memory fill his mind and reverberate throughout his body. This was going to be a
long
couple of months, he told himself. Not being able to touch her was going to take every ounce of self-control he possessed. Because he had known her for about twenty-four hours and
already
wanted her. Bad.

“I knew there'd be a woman,” Lucas said, almost
proudly. But then, Sean thought, maybe his brother was living vicariously now that he was married.

“Let him talk.” The voice of reason from Rafe. Amazing, Sean thought. Katie really was a miracle worker.

“I thought we were meeting about the hotel project,” Lucas grumbled. “I'm not interested in hearing about Sean's latest conquest.”

That was all it took for the two of them to run away with the conversation again. If he were back home, in the office, Sean would be munching on cookies and using his smartphone to check in on customer bases and suppliers. Here, he was lucky just to be sitting upright.

Sunlight was bright in the hotel room, but thankfully, the desk where he was sitting was positioned so that his back was to the bay window. He knew that out the window lay a fantastic view of the harbor and pristine aqua-blue ocean, if he was interested—which he wasn't at the moment. It was way too bright out there.

His hotel room at the Stanford hotel was the kind of plush he could only guess would have been considered five stars fifty years ago. Their one big concession to modern life seemed to be the high-speed internet service and the minibars. Otherwise, he might have been on an old movie set.

There were no flat-screen TVs or high-end bathrooms or, hell, even hairdryers or in-room coffee setups. And yet, there was something quietly…elegant here that no modern hotel could ever hope to claim.

“Okay, fine,” Lucas was telling Rafe. “I'll listen to Sean if you'll keep quiet.”

Sean laughed, then winced as his headache pounded.

“What's this about Sean?” Rafe asked in a quiet, even tone that had Sean silently thanking him.

“I don't even know where to begin,” he admitted. It had
been a wild twenty-four hours and he wasn't sure even he completely believed what had happened.

“Start with the land,” Lucas prodded. “Do we have the deal or not?”

Sean pulled in a deep breath, then took another long gulp of water while his brothers waited impatiently.

“Well?” Rafe asked.

Snorting a choked-off laugh, Sean said, “There's some good news and some bad news.”

“Perfect,” Rafe muttered.

“Start with the good,” Lucas told him. “It'll give me strength for the rest of it.

“Okay, good news is, we got the deal.”

Rafe and Lucas both laughed in relief. “Well, why the hell didn't you say so?” Rafe crowed.

“I knew you could do it,” Lucas said. “I told Rose just last night that nobody can stand against Sean when he turns on the King charm.”

“Hmm…” He would have agreed a couple of days ago. But, since meeting Melinda Stanford, he had to admit that his charm apparently had limits. She hadn't proposed to him because she was blown away by his wit and seductive powers. And she sure as hell wasn't tumbling into his bed. Yet.

“Okay,” Rafe said. “Let's have the bad news.”

“How bad can it be?” Lucas said, still grinning. “We got the deal. We can start construction right away and—”

“Let him finish,” Rafe said without taking his gaze from Sean's.

Sean kept his eyes fixed on Rafe, since there was no point in trying to avoid it anyway. “Okay, the thing is, looks like I'm getting married.”

Silence.

His brothers just stared at him. Then they turned to look
at each other before shifting their gazes back to Sean in a move that was so smooth it looked choreographed.

“Married?” Rafe said.

“Are you nuts?” Lucas asked.

“The black-haired woman?” Rafe asked.

“The very one,” Sean told them. “Melinda Stanford.”

“Walter's granddaughter. That's why the phone call.”

Sean looked at Lucas and nodded.

“You met her, fell in love and proposed all in twenty-four hours?” Rafe demanded, his voice hitching higher with every word.

Sean stiffened. “Who said anything about love?”

“Then what the hell, Sean?”

“I made a deal with Melinda. We get married, the Kings get the land.”

“Oh hell no,” Rafe argued. Clearly outraged, his spine went stiff and his chin jutted out as if he were stepping into a knock-down, drag-out fight.

“This is ‘taking one for the team' to a whole new level,” Lucas put in.

Sean rubbed one hand across his face and prayed again that the aspirin he took would start working before his head exploded. “It's done. I made the deal, and I'll stick with it.”

“Why would you do that?”

He snapped, “I didn't see any other way to get the property.”

“You're out of your mind.”

“No, I'm not,” Sean said, reeling in the irritation starting to churn inside. “It's a temporary thing. Two months and we'll get a divorce. But the Kings will still have the land.”

Lucas shook his head as if he couldn't think of anything to say—which under other circumstances might
have been funny. Rafe, on the other hand, wasn't having that problem.

“You can't do this, Sean,” he said tightly. “Getting married knowing you're getting a divorce just isn't—”

“What,” he asked, “
right
?”

“What I want for you,” his older brother finished pointedly. “When you get married it should damn well mean something.”

Sean gritted his teeth and bit back the words he wanted to say. That getting married didn't mean anything to some people. That he'd already tried marriage a long time ago and wasn't interested in repeating that mistake. That the only reason he had agreed to this farce was so that his family could get what they needed—and because he had an escape clause written into the bargain.

His brothers were happily married to wonderful women they each loved desperately. They would never understand Sean's point of view. And why would they? His brothers didn't know that Sean had already been married once before. In fact, no one knew about that very brief, very
messy
marriage and divorce and that was how he wanted it.

Kings made mistakes, sure. But they didn't talk about them and they for damn sure didn't share their feelings about them. It had been Sean's mistake, and he'd cleaned it up. Dredging it back up now wouldn't serve any purpose at all.

When he felt like he could speak without clenching his teeth even tighter, Sean said, “Don't think of it as a marriage. Just a merger.”

“Damn strange way to do business,” Lucas muttered.

“Strange or not, we're getting what we want out of it,” Sean told them. And that's what he had to keep uppermost in his mind. This was for the Kings. For their future.
Going into business on this hotel with their cousin Rico would take their construction company to an even higher level than where they already were and that was something that was worth any risk. “Walter's going to have the deed to the property drawn up for our signatures before the wedding.”

“Which is when?” Rafe wanted to know.

“By the end of the week,” Sean said and swallowed hard as if there were a noose around his neck, tightening. Ridiculous. He had agreed to this, and he wouldn't back out.

“A week?” Lucas stared at him, stunned.

“Tell us when,” Rafe said. “We'll be there.”

“No.” Sean shook his head, in spite of the throbbing behind his eyes.

“What do you mean, no?” Lucas demanded, with a glance at Rafe to make sure he was just as pissed.

He was.

“Of course we'll be there for you, you moron,” Rafe said. “We're not going to let you do this on your own.”

“Damn it, Rafe,” Sean said, “it's not like this is the real deal. It's business and that's all it is.”

“Doesn't seem right not being there,” Lucas muttered. “We support each other. Always have. Always will.”

He smiled in spite of everything, grateful for his brothers and the strong family ties they had. But love his brothers or not, he didn't want them there for the wedding. There was just no point. And damned if he'd listen to Rafe and Lucas—or worse yet, Katie and Rose—giving him grief for doing what he knew he had to do.

“It's fine,” Sean insisted, meaning every word. “It'll be easier on me if you're not here.”

“Won't Stanford expect your family to be there?”

Damn
. Wincing, he silently acknowledged that he hadn't really considered that.

“Probably,” he admitted, but shook his head again anyway. “I'll just tell him it happened too fast for you guys to get out here.”

“Yeah, that'll go over big,” Rafe muttered.

“Look,” Sean told them both with a tired sigh, “I'll take care of the details here. You guys get hold of Rico and tell him we're on. I'll check out the small construction company here on the island, see what we can use and what we'll need to bring in.”

“I've got a cargo ship putting out to sea in a week or so,” Rafe said. “We can get most of our equipment onboard and get to work as soon as possible.”

“Sounds good,” Sean said, relieved to be back on safer terrain. Talking about the job, the business, he felt more in control. “With the weather here, it being fall won't be a problem. We should be able to keep the job running right through winter without many weather delays.”

“Sounds good,” Lucas told him with a grin. “Rico's going to want to jump into this project. Oh, and he's having us build him a house on the island too. Guess he's decided to make Tesoro his main residence.”

Sean held up one hand. “All I negotiated for was the hotel property. Rico's on his own with the house deal.”

“Seriously,” Lucas muttered with a snort, “what do you have left to bargain with? Your
soul
?”

“Funny,” Sean told him.

“Oh, Rico's got the land for the house,” Rafe told him. “Walter had no problem with that. It was the beachfront property he was hanging onto. Until now.”

“Yeah,” Sean said, feeling that metaphorical noose tightening around his throat again. “Until now.”

“Are you sure you're okay with this?” Rafe asked.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Sean answered his question with a question and let it go.

“Always were the most stubborn one of us,” Lucas said.

“Yeah, right.” Rafe laughed. “You make
Dad
look reasonable.”

“No reason to be insulting,” Lucas countered.

“You want insulting?” Rafe argued.

Sean smiled to himself as he watched his brothers fall into a familiar argument. They were in California, but they might as well have been on Mars for as far away as Sean felt from the family he loved. But it was better this way, he told himself.

No reason for them to meet Melinda or to celebrate a marriage that had a two-month expiration date.

He'd made the deal and he'd stick to it. But damned if he'd have an audience for it.

“Y
ou're doing
what
?”

“I'm getting married,” Melinda said and waited for the crushing, debilitating panic she kept expecting to set in. It didn't, which was completely weird because if anyone had the right to panic, it was her.

After Sean and her grandfather had had their meeting, she'd spent five quick minutes with the man who would soon be her husband. Sean hadn't said much, just told her that it was set and that he was going to have dinner with her grandfather. Then he told her he'd call her sometime today. Which, so far, he hadn't.

She shot a quick look out the kitchen window. It was only late morning. Still plenty of time. So why was her stomach doing a jittery dance and her throat occasionally closing up so even breathing was becoming an Olympic event?

Oh, God.

She had spent all of last night, sitting on the terrace of her hotel suite, staring out at the ocean. The trade winds ruffled through the leaves of the trees and the scent of night-blooming jasmine had wrapped itself around her and still, she couldn't find any peace.

And she knew why.

Sean King was too attractive. Too…
something
. He got to her in a way no man had since Steven and just admitting that should have been enough to have her backing out of the deal she had struck. But she couldn't do that. Not and win her independence.

So here she sat, at her best friend's kitchen table, trying to convince herself that everything would be okay. Only problem being, now that the deed was done, everything was in motion and Melinda was beginning to feel like she was strapped into a runaway roller coaster. Her grandfather was happy. Sean was…she wasn't sure how he was feeling. And she was, anxious. But resolved.

“I can't believe this.” Kathy Clark, Melinda's best friend and absolutely the only person she could talk to about this, shook her head. “You're the one who said what your grandfather was trying to do was medieval.”

“I know, but—”

“And you swore that if he ever tried to marry you off again you'd join a convent.”

“Yes, but—”

“
And
, you said that you couldn't marry anyone because you're still in love with…Steven.”

Melinda heard the hesitation in her friend's voice and frowned. Kathy never had liked Steven and Melinda was never sure why. But that wasn't the point now anyway.

Kathy frowned at her as she held a baby bottle to her son's mouth. “So who is this mystery man and why did
you agree to something you practically took a blood oath to avoid?”

When she paused for breath, Melinda jumped into the conversation. “This is different. My grandfather didn't arrange this,
I
did.”

Her friend blinked big brown eyes and shook her head harder. “Okay, that actually makes
negative
sense.”

Melinda laughed and reached down to pick up Kathy's two-year-old daughter. Setting the tiny girl onto her lap, she brushed baby-fine hair off the child's forehead and said, “It makes perfect sense, Kath. I'm going to marry Sean and get my trust fund and then we'll get a quiet divorce.”

“Just like that.”

“Yep.” Melinda planted a kiss on top of Danielle's head and smiled when the little girl slapped both hands together.

“Uh-huh.”

She looked up at the tone in Kathy's voice and found her friend watching her through narrowed eyes. “What?”

“Getting married, even temporarily, is a huge step. And sometimes divorces, even the ones you want, are more painful than you might think. Are you really sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I'm sure,” she argued, keeping her voice light and singsongy to please the toddler on her lap. “There won't be any pain in this divorce and there won't be any hard feelings, either. We both get what we want. Me, my trust fund, and my new husband will get the land he wants. I've thought it all out, covered every possibility and this really is the answer.”

“It's a weird world when you consider marrying a complete stranger a good thing.”

“He's not a stranger. I researched him.”

“Oh. Well then. My mistake,” Kathy told her and set the
baby bottle aside when her son finished his lunch. Lifting the six-month-old to her shoulder she patted his back while looking at Melinda. “Instead of your grandfather selling you, you put yourself on the open market.”

“And got a better price,” Melinda told her, grinning when her friend sighed. “Look, it's going to be great. I'll get married, get my trust fund and then I'll be single again and life will go on.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sean has already agreed to it, even the part where I told him I wouldn't be sleeping with him.”

“This just gets better and better,” Kathy murmured.

“Funny, that's just what Sean said.” Melinda straightened the tiny yellow bow on the baby's curls.

“Sean who? Who is this lucky groom?”

“Hmm?” Melinda smiled down at Danielle, then looked at Kathy. “Sean King.”

Kathy's jaw dropped. “Sean
King
?
The
Sean King? The guy in all the magazines? The one with mega millions? The one with the black hair and blue eyes and great ass?”

Melinda put both hands over Danielle's ears. Laughing, she said, “Kathy!”

“I don't believe this.” She set her infant son into the bouncy seat beside them on the kitchen table. Instantly, Cameron started kicking, sending the little mobile of birds over his head into blind flight.

Kathy stood up and went for more coffee. She filled both of their cups, then set the coffeepot back down onto the stove. When she took her seat again, she looked at Melinda and said, “You know I love you, but you are asking for trouble with this, honey.”

“Kath, it's gonna be fine.” Though looking into her friend's worried eyes sent the tiniest spirals of anxiety unwinding through Melinda's system.

It was natural that Kathy would react like this. She and her husband Tom loved each other like crazy. So of course she would look at a marriage of convenience like it was a prison sentence.

“Sean King could have any woman in the known universe,” Kathy told her. “Heck, we live on an island in the middle of nowhere and
we
know who he is!”

“Well yes, but—”

“He's rich and gorgeous and probably arrogant, most men like him are.?…”

“Because you've known so many men like Sean King,” Melinda stated.

“I don't have to know them to know them, you know?”

Melinda blinked. “Sadly, I understood that.”

Picking up her coffee cup, Kathy took a sip, then cradled the mug between her hands. “I'm just saying that you could be setting yourself up for something you're not prepared for.”

Danielle squirmed on Melinda's lap, so she set the little girl down and watched her toddle off to her play stove on the other side of the room.

Melinda and Kathy had been friends for fifteen years. Ever since Kathy's family had moved to the island when her father took over the job as manager of the hotel. When Kathy married a man born and raised on Tesoro, Melinda had stood up for her, and she was godmother to both of their children.

Kathy's house was always a chaos-filled sanctuary for Melinda. So different from the quiet elegance of the hotel and the owner's penthouse suites where she had grown up and still lived, this cottage always felt warm and welcoming. As if it were alive with the love that saturated its walls.

There was a time when Melinda had dreamed about
having a place like this—a
life
like this. With a husband who loved her and children to hold. But that dream died with Steven more than a year ago now and Melinda had buried it along with her fiancé. Now, what she wanted was her independence. A chance to live her life the way she wanted to, without the loving interference of a concerned grandfather.

“I know what I'm doing, really.”

Kathy met her stare and sighed. “I hope so.” Then shrugging, she asked, “So, when's the wedding?”

Melinda grinned. “Next Saturday, and you're the matron of honor.”

“Next Saturday?” Kathy's jaw dropped and her eyes took on a horrified sheen. “I can't lose ten pounds in a week!”

Still smiling, Melinda listened as her friend talked about manicures, shopping for dresses and who she could get to watch the kids for the day.

Worried or not, Kathy would be there for her, Melinda knew that. But as her friend's warnings repeated over and over again in her mind, Melinda had to wonder if she was as sure about all of this as she was pretending to be.

 

The next few days passed in a blink.

Or at least it seemed that way to Sean. He didn't see much of Melinda, but then why should he? This was nothing more than a business deal—though dressed up a lot prettier than most. And to keep his mind off the fact that he was about to get
married
, Sean spent his time exploring a bit of the island.

He had already spent a day or two with the Stanford construction team. It was a small outfit—but they knew the island and how to build. Sean was impressed with them and knew Rafe and Lucas would be, too. Having knowl
edgeable, on-the-spot workers around when the project got going would come in handy. Plus, using local guys would go a long way toward making the King invasion a welcome one.

On his own, he'd driven the circumference of the island, noting the differences in the land as he went. Some areas of Tesoro were practically barren while most of the island boasted forests and flowers and waterfalls. There was no airstrip on the island and Sean knew his brothers would want to build something for private planes. He'd spotted a clearing near the hotel that would do if they could talk Walter into it. Otherwise, as it stood now, the only way to reach the island was to fly into St. Thomas then take a boat to Tesoro. Granted, they were fast boats, but if the Kings could set up a private airstrip, that would make things even easier on the wealthy guests they planned on enticing to the hotel.

For now though, Sean was exploring the village, where shops stood ready to welcome the tourists who made up their economy. Tesoro was one of the bigger privately held islands. About three thousand acres, with beautiful beaches, forests and more flowers than Sean could remember seeing anywhere.

The village was so picturesque it was like taking a walk through a postcard. Every shop was neatly tended and each of them was painted a different, pastel color—blue, pink, yellow and green.

Brightly colored flowers tumbled out of terra-cotta pots lining the sidewalk. The view from above would be like staring down at a fallen rainbow. Windows glistened in the sun and doors stood open in welcome.

For a man used to living in crowded Southern California, this was like being in Brigadoon.

He smiled to himself at the thought. He wouldn't
even have had that reference if not for Lucas's wife. She had been watching the old movie one Saturday when he stopped in to beg a meal. In exchange, Rose had forced him to watch the damn thing with her.

So, that magical village in Scotland, where everything was beautiful and everyone was happy seemed a pretty appropriate comparison.

He could see why Walter protected this island so staunchly. Sean paused to look around, letting his gaze take in the people, the flowers, the quiet sense of tranquility—and then tried to imagine the village swarming with cruise ship tourists. He shuddered just thinking about the influx of loud voices and clacking cameras.

No, it was better this way, he thought, enjoying the otherworldly quiet and the soft, cool breeze that eased the heat of the sun. Unlike most of the Caribbean islands, the trade winds blew almost constantly across Tesoro, keeping not only the heat—but the flying insects at bay. Which, Sean told himself with a smile, would make their future guests happy.

He wandered along the village street, peering in shop windows, taking pictures with his smartphone and sending them via text messaging to his brothers as he went. Rafe and Lucas had both been here, of course, when they tried to make a deal with Walter. But those meetings had been over so quickly, they hadn't been on Tesoro long enough to really look around. It was Rico who had stayed on the island several years ago and ever since had been planning his return.

For the longest time, Sean hadn't understood Rico's fascination with this place. But the more time he spent there, the more Sean got it. There was just something about Tesoro that seemed to reach inside a man and un
twist the knots he carried around within. Knots he hadn't even been aware of until they dissipated.

He shook his head at his own rambling thoughts and put it down to pre-wedding nerves. Because God knew, he had a lot more to be anxious about than most would-be grooms. After all, he wasn't getting married for the usual reasons. No more than he had before. Been there, done that, didn't even get the T-shirt, he thought wryly.

A couple of laughing kids charged past him on the sidewalk, and Sean jolted, then laughed at his own idiocy. If he didn't pay attention to what was going on around him, he could end up walking right off a cliff.

The distant, muffled roar of a boat's engine didn't stand a chance against the shouts of a shopkeeper, yelling at the kids to go home. Sean smiled again. Even postcards come to life had a few problems, he supposed, which only made this place more real.

When he spotted the jewelry store, he paused, caught by the display of rings, necklaces and bracelets in the window. There were diamonds and rubies and other gemstones, naturally. But there were also pieces with the blue-green stone Sean had seen Melinda wearing the night they'd had dinner and sealed their bargain.

“Well,” he mused aloud, “can't get married without a ring.”

Fake marriage or not, it had to at least look real. He stepped through the open door and walked slowly inside, his boot heels hitting the gleaming wood floor like taps from a hammer. It wasn't a big shop, but the display cases were filled with dazzling jewels. He was struck by the flash of color that surrounded him, all of it artfully arranged to show the pieces at their best.