The Temporary Mrs. King (6 page)

Standing with her in the moonlight wasn't helping the situation any, either.

She took a breath, blew it out and said, “Sean, about that kiss…”

Yeah, it was pretty much uppermost in his mind at the
moment, too. Well, that and the incredible hard-on it had caused. Damn, he hadn't reacted that fast to any other woman before. Just the feel of her body meshed to his had set him off and so far, the ache in his groin didn't show any signs of leaving.

Which meant that the next two sex-less months were going to be even harder than he had anticipated. He gritted his teeth at the thought, but couldn't bring himself to regret that kiss. If anything, he wanted more.

“It was a good one,” he admitted, turning his back on the view so that he could study the woman he had married.

Moonlight caressed her skin and made the strapless white dress she wore almost glow with an otherworldly light. She was, in a word, breathtaking. He could hardly tear his eyes off of her.

The filmy material of her gown highlighted an amazing figure. Everything about her made him want to grab hold, pull her close and kiss her until neither one of them could draw a breath. And Sean had never really been known for his restraint.

It was taking everything in him not to touch her again. To feel that electrical charge of something amazing when their skin met. He wanted to slide his hands over her body until she was moaning and sighing in pleasure. His groin ached like a bad tooth and everything in him felt coiled and more than eager. If he had his way, he'd be taking his new bride upstairs to her suite, where they'd be living together for the duration.

He'd lay her down on the closest flat surface he could find, then he'd hitch the skirts of her dress up and stare down into her eyes as he pushed himself inside her. He'd feel her long legs wrap around his hips, pulling him higher, deeper. He'd watch her eyes glaze and listen to
her panting breath and groaning sighs. He'd feel her slick heat surrounding him as he emptied himself inside her and then before the last of their climaxes had stopped rippling through them, he'd do it all over again.

“We can't do that again,” she said, effectively snapping him right out of his private fantasies.

Scowling, he shifted position, trying to ease the pressure in his slacks a little. No good. Shaking his head, he tried to lighten the mood, softening the images still racing through his mind.

“Sure we can,” Sean countered, moving a little closer to her. “Kissing's not sex.”

“It is the way
you
do it,” she murmured.

He grinned even as his body tightened further. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That wasn't a compliment.”

“Could've fooled me,” Sean said and stepped in front of her, putting her back against the railing. Her gaze darted to one side as if she didn't quite trust herself to look into his eyes. And Sean didn't want her uneasy. He wanted her soft and pliant and enthusiastic—as she had been during that amazing kiss.

His voice soft, his words careful, he said, “It was just a kiss, Melinda. It won't go anywhere else unless you want it to.”

“I don't,” she said immediately, turning her eyes back to his. “I can't.”

“Then we won't go any further. But a kiss, Melinda, that's a safe zone. Just because we won't do anything else doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves a little.”

She chewed at her bottom lip, indecision rife on her face.

“Maybe it wasn't as good as we think it was,” he said, lifting one hand to trace the tips of his fingers along her
jawline. “Maybe we were both just taken by surprise and read too much into it. Maybe we should test that theory.”

“I don't think…”

“Good idea,” he murmured, his gaze moving over her features like a starving man seeing a banquet spread out in front of him. “Don't think.”

He bent and took her mouth again. This time he was hungrier than before because this time, he knew what he would find. Knew the taste of her, the feel of her. This time when she moved into him and parted her lips for his tongue, he was prepared for the jolt of heat that nearly staggered him.

He rushed toward the edge of his already tattered control. She was warm and luscious and her passion fired his own. Kissing her before had been a revelation. Kissing her this time was a confirmation of everything he had experienced earlier. The feel of her lips, the taste of her tongue, her sweet breath sighing into him all gathered into a tight ball of lust that seemed to grow with every passing second. He couldn't ease back, though he knew he should.

This hadn't been part of the deal. This instantaneous explosion of need was like nothing he had ever known before. If he had felt like this with anyone else, he'd have taken her to bed and kept her there until the heat between them burned out. But that wasn't an option and damned if he knew what to do about it.

While his body raged, firing into desire, his mind shouted for caution. Control. He had given his word. And he would keep it, he assured himself as he delved deeper into her mouth, taking all she offered, giving her all he had. But for now, this moment, he needed what they'd found together.

He jerked her in closer, his arms coming around her like steel bands. Her breasts pressed to his chest, he felt
the wild racing of her heart and knew…
knew
…that she was feeling everything he was.

That knowledge gave him silent permission to feel more. He swept one hand to the zipper at the back of her gown and when she moaned into his mouth, he pulled that zipper down. An inch. Two inches. Just enough to loosen the bodice of her gown so that he could…

He gently lowered the top of her dress to bare her breasts. Then he tore his mouth from hers and bent to take first one pebbled, rose-colored nipple and then the other into his mouth.

She sucked in a gulp of air and shivered in reaction. Her voice was hardly more than a hush as she cried, “Sean!”

His chest tightened, his groin was so hard and heavy he winced from the pain, but didn't stop what he was doing. Couldn't stop. He reveled in her every gasp and sigh. Gloried in the taste and feel of her nipples in his mouth. He ran the edges of his teeth across those sensitive tips and felt her tremble.

Melinda's hands gripped his shoulders as she arched into him, offering him easier access. He took it. With one hand, he caressed and tweaked one nipple while his mouth and tongue and teeth tormented the other. He felt as though he could never touch her enough. Desire ratcheted up inside him. Hunger gnawed at him and his body ached for completion.

Moonlight played across her skin and the murmur of voices and the muted strains of music coming from the ballroom behind them became nothing more than a vaguely acknowledged distraction from what was most important. The heat sweeping from her body to his and back again.

Sean felt her sighs ripple through her and straight into him. She shivered, and he knew it was his touch, not the
cool breeze, that was affecting her. Her fingers combed through his hair as she held his head to her breasts. Every gentle scrape of her nails against his scalp sent electrical buzzes through his brain, his body.

He'd never wanted any woman the way he wanted Melinda Stanford…
King
.

That thought jolted him out of the haze of desire fogging his mind. She was his wife. The wife he'd promised to leave the hell alone. And he was practically taking her here on a balcony with her damn grandfather in the next room.

Muffling a tight groan, he called on the self-control he had been honing all of his life and reluctantly pulled away from her. He straightened up and then reached behind her to zip up her dress. When he was finished, he caged her between his arms as he leaned on the balcony trying to catch his breath and convince his dick that it wasn't about to explode in frustration.

“Sean?”

He looked into her eyes, and they were glazed, confused and so damned sexy he wanted to throw away his own stupid sense of honor and do what they both wanted to do. But he wouldn't.

Not yet, anyway. Not until she'd released him from the damn vow.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders and held on as if she were unsure of her balance and standing alone. He understood that completely. His own legs were a little shaky, which was lowering to admit. Hell, he'd never been so…rattled by a woman.

“Sean, that was—”

“Melinda,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, “a couple more minutes of this and…”

“Oh.
Oh
.” She pulled in a long, shuddering breath and nodded slowly. “I can't believe we just—”

“Yeah well,” he whispered with a rueful smile, “it's been a long day.”

She laughed a little brokenly and the sound wrenched at something inside him. “I shouldn't have—I can't believe I let you—wanted you to—”

Sean eased back and cupped her face in his palms. “Melinda, it's no big deal.”
Liar
, his brain shouted, but he ignored it. “We're married, right? We kissed. We—” He let her go, and shoved both hands through his hair. “Just, don't beat yourself up over it, okay?”

“Sean, there's something you should know.”

He waited and a moment later, she spoke again.

“I was engaged once. My fiancé, Steven Hardesty, died in a car accident here on the island more than a year ago.”

Her gaze was filled with regret, old pain and the shadows of guilt. Only a few seconds ago, desire had been churning through his veins like lava. In one flashing instant, it was gone. In the very next heartbeat, it was replaced by anger.

“Steven?”

She nodded miserably, letting her gaze slide away from his. “He died and I—”

“What?” Sean demanded, turning her face back to his. “Needed to find someone to scratch your itch?”

“What?”

“Why else am I here?”

“Oh please,” she said, misery in her eyes sliding away to show him that she too had a temper. “You know exactly why you're here. We have a deal.”

“Yeah?” He just looked at her. “Deal or not, you didn't seem to be giving much thought to good ol' Steven a minute ago.”

“You—” Her jaw snapped shut on whatever else she might have said. She settled for giving him a glare that should have set fire to his hair.

“You said you weren't interested in romance. Why?” Sean demanded, keeping his voice low, ever mindful of the room full of wedding guests right behind them. “After Steven died you went into proverbial hiding? Tucked your heart into a box and buried it with him, is that it?”

“You don't understand,” she countered and a flash of anger that matched his glittered briefly in her eyes.

“Oh, I understand more than you think,” Sean told her. He fought the churning sense of outrage and anger, but damned if he could conquer it completely. He snorted in disbelief at this whole situation. Melinda had researched him. Seems he should have done some of that himself. “So it wasn't all a business deal at all. I'm a damn substitute for the late, great Steven.”

“Don't talk about him like that.”

“Why not?” Sean argued. “I'm his stand-in. Who better?”

She whipped her hair out of her face and glared up at him. “You're not a replacement for Steven. I told you I
loved
him.”

Her vehemence hit him harder than it should have, he knew. But there was no denying what he was feeling. God, he was an idiot for walking into this so damn blindly. All he'd been able to think about was making the deal. Getting the land. Helping the Kings to win one more time.

If he'd known she was mourning some other guy, he never would have done this. It would have felt too messy to touch.

“I don't get why you're so upset,” she muttered, scraping her hands up and down her arms as if chilled to the bone in the soft tropical breeze.

“I don't like being lied to. Or manipulated,” Sean said flatly. “Call it a flaw.”

“I didn't manipulate you,” she snapped. “We had a deal. And no sex was part of it—yet just a minute ago, you had my breasts in your mouth, trying to manipulate me into bed. So who's the guilty one here?”

Okay, that he wasn't going to take. Sean had never tricked or forced a woman into his bed in his life. And he never would. Now his
wife
stood there looking down at him like an avenging angel of chastity? And he was supposed to feel what?
Guilty
?

“Oh, I don't think so, honey,” he murmured, his voice as soft as his anger was hot. Reaching out for her, he trailed his fingertips along her arms and watched her involuntary shiver in response. “You can convince yourself of whatever you have to, but we both know there was no manipulation here. You liked my touch. You still
want
my touch…”

“No…”

“Oh yeah,” Sean said, forcing a smile that cost him every ounce of will he possessed. “You do. A couple minutes ago, you were sighing and moaning and enjoying every touch and lick and—”

“Stop it.”

Sean shook his head. “Not a chance. You want to pretend to yourself? Go ahead. But we
both
know that a couple more minutes of what we were doing and your whole no-sex vow would have been tossed out a window. I'm the one who stopped, remember? I'm the one who pulled back.”

“I was just about to—”

“Forget it. Sell it to someone who doesn't have the imprint of your fingernails on his scalp.”

She flushed and even in the pale wash of moonlight,
Sean saw her skin pinken. Embarrassment? Shame?
Regret
? Who the hell knew?

“You might want to pretend that you're not interested in living anymore,” Sean said, bending low enough that his mouth was just a breath away from hers. “But your body didn't get the message. It's still alive and right now, it's hungering—just like mine is.”