Vacation Bride: A Billionaire Marriage of Convenience (Brides of Paradise Book 1)

by Loebel, Vicky

  Not that I care. Chris opened his laptop and balanced it on his knees. One bridacuda is the same as the rest. He pulled up his property management system and tried to read through reports.

  The thing was, Anna didn’t act like a bridacuda. She didn’t over-dress, plaster on makeup, or try to wheedle favors out of the staff. Perhaps the story Lani had whispered in Chris’ ear was true. That Anna had only entered Vacation Bride to bring her father to the Caribbean.

  Anna’s team won the set. The women took a break, several of them pouring water over their faces and halter tops for the cameras. There would be one more set, and then the four lowest-scoring contestants would have to fight it out for internet votes.

  Chris gazed past his laptop at the stone wall separating the sugar mill’s picnic area from the cliff above Paradise Bay. He’d spent the last year restoring the eighteenth-century plantation buildings, expanding parking, adding eco-friendly restrooms and a kid’s playground. Next month, they planned to open the grounds to the public.

  A car door slammed behind him.

  “You know,” Ryan called, “you could at least pretend to be interested in the girls.”

  Chris closed his laptop. Ryan slouched over, encased in dark sunglasses and an oversized baseball cap, toting a six-pack of beer. Behind Ryan, Bobbie tossed Chris a nymph-like wave and skipped into the welcoming arms of her crew.

  Ryan plopped onto the bench beside Chris and held out a can.

  “No thanks.” Chris shook his head. “One of us has twelve hours of work to catch up on before this day is finished. Congratulations, by the way.” He picked up his water bottle and saluted his cousin. “How’s married life?”

  “Terrifying.” Ryan shuddered. “But we had a nice cruise on your yacht. Captain Greta was worried about canceling her charter. I had to promise you wouldn’t object.”

  “Why start now? Though I admit I didn’t expect to see you any time soon.” He gave his cousin a sarcastic look. “Feeling brave?”

  “You wouldn’t hit a guy with sunglasses.”

  “I understand they come off.”

  “Yeah, but if they do, my head will explode.” Bloodshot eyes appeared briefly above the sunglasses’ rims. “And then you’ll have my brains on your conscience.”

  The women took their places for the final volleyball set. Anna jump-served and scored. Chris watched with interest as Ryan’s bride, Bobbie, cut off the congratulations she was receiving and reclaimed her position as announcer in front of the cameras.

  Chris frowned at his cousin. “Something go wrong?”

  Ryan tipped his head back and chugged the beer. “You know those prenups? The iron-clad contracts each contestant signed stating exactly what happens if we get married?” He opened another beer.

  “Let me guess.” Chris moved the last four cans out of Ryan’s reach. “Bobbie didn’t sign a prenup.”

  His cousin burped loudly. “Nope.”

  “And it’s over already? Why?”

  “We disagreed about Vacation Bride.”

  The show’s director ran to Bobbie. They must have disagreed, too, because Chandra staggered back, looking shocked.

  Ryan burped again. “I warned her we need to start repositioning the show, so the audience won’t expect an actual wedding.”

  “The wedding’s always been optional.”

  “Technically, yeah. But the way we’re running it, without a bride, we’re a flop.” He held out his hand for another beer.

  Chris considered briefly and then handed his cousin a can and opened one for himself. He took a long pull, letting the liquid cool his throat. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

  Ryan glanced sideways. “Hear what?”

  “Whatever you think will talk me into getting married.”

  “It doesn’t have to be love, you know. Just pick a girl at the top of the ratings. We’ll throw a party, stage a big ceremony, and end the show. A couple weeks later you get a quiet annulment. No harm, no foul.”

  Anna’s team won the final set. The camera crew surged forward while the four lowest-ranked women ran to their stylists. Only Anna removed herself from the commotion, collecting her sketchbook and going to sit on the stone wall by the cliff.

  Chris set down his beer and turned to Ryan. “I already know you think a fake wedding’s OK, and you already know I don’t agree. So let’s have the real argument. Whatever it is you think can change my mind.”

  “My wife wants to be a producer.” Ryan slumped. “Not just of web series. She’s got a movie deal on the line.”

  “Good for her.”

  “If we do well, if Vacation Bride’s a hit, Bobbie’s got solid backers. She’s promised me she’ll take the production company and walk away.”

  “And if you flop?”

  Ryan pitched his empty beer at a recycling bin and missed. “If we flop, she wants fifty million bucks to finance her movie.”

  Chris whistled. Still, his cousin had twenty times that amount. “Pay her.”

  “I can’t. After the opal mine last year, Dad and Uncle Henrik made me lock down my assets. All I’ve got—until I prove I can be a business success—is a modest allowance.”

  “You let your dad take control of your money?” The allowance couldn’t be too modest, given how Ryan lived. Still, Chris sympathized. Ryan’s father—all four surviving Andersen uncles—were hard men to resist.

  Ryan shrugged. “It’s only temporary. Until I prove I’m a success.”

  “You mean, until I pick a bride on your show?”

  “That would do it.”

  “All right. I get it.” Chris stood and patted Ryan’s shoulder. “You’ve always been here for me. And I want you to know, I’ll be here for you, too.”

  His cousin frowned suspiciously. “You will?”

  “After the show flops. And your wife skins you. And your dad cuts off your allowance for the next hundred years.”

  Ryan grimaced.

  “You’ll have a home at the Paradise Resort as long as you need it,” Chris promised. “I’ll have one of the employee studios clean and ready for you.”

  “You’re all heart.” Ryan flopped sideways and stretched his legs on the bench.

  “Plus a job.” Chris collected the empty beer cans and dropped them in the recycling bin. “Working behind the counter at the snack bar.”

  Ryan covered his face with his cap. “Hot dog.”

  Chapter Nine

  Anna couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad. She opened her sketchbook and drew a thick line across the paper. On the sad side, she was sick of Vacation Bride, sick of internet creeps who voted for shallow women, sick of cameramen who squatted low so they could shoot upward into jiggling boobs.

  The line became a rectangle, and then a volleyball net full of holes.

  On the happy side, there was Dad. A week in paradise had done him more good than she’d dreamed, tanning his skin, taking the worry lines out of his face. He’d gotten noticeably stronger, thanks to daily exercise and terrific food, hand-picked for him by Doris. Today, he’d gone across the water to St. Thomas on a resort-sponsored golf trip, and Anna had barely worried.

  Also on the happy side, St. John was more beautiful than Anna had ever imagined. She stopped drawing and flipped through the sketches she’d made of ocean views, jungle animals, people. She lifted her chin and basked in the soft breeze. The island was lovely, and all the locals were great.

  All but one.

  Anna stopped flipping at Chris’ unfinished portrait. It was the best thing she’d ever drawn. Not technically, maybe. She hadn’t put that much time into it. Yet somehow you could see the hope, sense the possibility she’d felt that first day. The day I fell half in love with a handsome stranger telling lies.

  Anna shut the sketchbook, unable to rekindle her sense of outrage. Compared to what she’d done—not admitting she was in the contest—she and Chris seemed about even. It was probably just as well they’d ruined their relationship. It made the fact she’d have to go hom
e to Milwaukee easier to accept.

  Footsteps rustled behind Anna’s stone wall. She turned her head and was embarrassed to see Chris himself, dressed in the same well-filled white T-shirt and jeans she’d found so attractive their first day.

  “Can we talk?” he asked. “Privately?”

  “OK.” Anna reached down and switched off her microphone, double-checking to make sure the red-transmission light went out. The crew was busy interviewing the women who’d lost the volleyball match, replaying clips, and urging the audience to vote for which two women would stay.

  Chris frowned at the cliff, reminding Anna he didn’t like heights. Although she wasn’t stupid. There was a good six feet of grass between the wall and the drop to the water.

  “OK.” He took a breath. “I want to apologize. I’m sorry I lost my temper after the race. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be on the show.”

  No reason except she hadn’t come here to compete. “I guess.” Anna shrugged uncomfortably. “Thanks.”

  “Although I’d have hated to see you waste yourself on my cousin.” Chris smiled crookedly. “That’s him, by the way.” He pointed to an expensively-dressed man sprawled on a bench. “In case you didn’t know.”

  “I’ve seen him on the show.” Anna stared curiously at Ryan Andersen. “He looked more…energetic.”

  “Married life takes it out of a man.”

  “I guess,” Anna repeated lamely. “Anyhow, I’m sorry too.” She bit her lip. “I meant it when I said Vacation Bride is horrible…but that didn’t stop me from taking the contest’s money and coming to the resort.”

  “And beating the bikini bottoms off the other contestants. You’re doing great.”

  “Maybe.” Until her low vote total caught up with her. “I don’t know. All I know is I’ll never be able to afford a trip like this again. So I’m doing my best to ignore the drama and have fun with Dad.”

  “Good for you.”

  “How are you doing?” Anna asked. “If it’s not prying. I take it being resort manager…you are the manager, right? Not Danish royalty or Bill Gates’ long-lost heir or something?”

  Chris winced. “I’m really the manager.”

  “You hadn’t planned on becoming the prize bridegroom?”

  “My cousin Ryan made me his alternate. Just before he eloped.”

  “After he fell in love with Bobbie. I know.” Anna couldn’t quite hide her wistful sigh. “It’s all anyone talks about. Even I’ve got to admit it’s romantic.”

  “For him, maybe,” Chris grumbled. “I got stuck with the bridacudas.”

  She laughed. “Poor you!”

  “Now he’s trying to force me to get married.”

  Anna’s grin faded. “He what?” She felt an unexpected pressure in her chest.

  “Sorry. Not your problem.” Chris shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But he can’t make you get married!” The pressure in Anna’s chest grew stronger. “I mean, if you fall in love, that’s one thing.” What if he fell in love with someone else?

  “Fall or jump. Or with Ryan nearby, receive a nice solid shove.”

  “Tell him no!”

  “I will. I have. I’m not sure I can resist.” Chris stared at the water. “He makes a good case. The girls have prenups. The wedding doesn’t have to be sincere. And I owe him a lot.”

  “You owe him a punch on the jaw!”

  “That, yeah.” Chris’ mouth twitched. “But other stuff, too. I grew up with nothing, a pretty awkward position in my family. Ryan looked after me. Made sure I had decent clothes and got to school, and he worked hard keeping my snottier cousins in line. He even blackmailed his dad into paying for college, which took guts. I haven’t had many chances to repay him.”

  “Send flowers,” Anna suggested. “Write a note.”

  Chris snickered. “Good idea.”

  “But I understand the problem. Some people you owe. Not because they gave you life, or food, or even an education, but because they’re on your side, no matter what.”

  The man’s expression sobered. “Yeah.”

  “Not this much, though. Not marrying a bridacuda as a publicity stunt.”

  “In theory, I agree.”

  “You ought to try Ryan’s solution,” Anna kidded. “Elope during the show.” When Chris remained silent, she took a breath and plunged on. “Find someone you trust, get married secretly, and award the prize money at the end of the series without picking a bride. If Ryan gives you a hard time, show him the marriage license. That’ll shut him up.”

  “You mean, hold a private fake marriage, instead of a public fake one?”

  “A private temporary marriage,” Anna said. “That’s got to be more honest than pretending publicly to fall in love just to please Ryan.” Maybe. “As long as the woman agrees.”

  Chris frowned thoughtfully. “If I got married, I’d have to leave the show.”

  “Would you though? Have to?” Anna tried to remember her contract. “Did you sign anything promising to stay single?”

  “I promised not to marry anyone outside of Vacation Bride.”

  “Oh. So you’re stuck.”

  “Maybe.” His frown deepened. “Or maybe I can find someone trustworthy on the show.”

  “I doubt it.” Anna didn’t see the point. “Besides, if you’re willing to marry a contestant—” Her voice caught. He couldn’t possibly mean….

  Chris took her hand. “What about you?”

  Sparks rocketed through Anna’s body. She almost fell off the wall.

  “I’m serious.” Chris grasped her shoulder to steady her. “We can slip away, be married on paper for a couple of weeks—call it a month to make sure the contest’s blown over—and then get a quiet annulment. It’ll be perfectly legal and, like you said, it leaves the show with nothing to gain by pressuring me into a wedding.”

  “I couldn’t do it.”

  “Why not? I need someone practical. Someone generous. Someone who hasn’t come here for profit.”

  Anna shook her head.

  “Someone who wants what I’ve got,” Chris said, and then added quickly, “I mean the Paradise Resort. Look, what if I promise you and your dad two weeks’ vacation every year for as long as I, um, work here.” He hesitated. “Better yet, I’ll write a binding contract on the resort. Two weeks, all expenses paid, for life.”

  “For life?” Anna slid off the wall. That left her very close to Chris. “Two weeks’ vacation, for life?”

  “It’ll take a couple of days to set up.” He was still holding her. “My lawyer can draw up a contract that’s completely legitimate. Of course you don’t…that is…it’s strictly business.” He let her go and stepped back. “Nothing—ah—intimate required.”

  As if that were the problem. Anna blushed. Could she do this? Marry Chris so he wouldn’t have to get married? The scheme had seemed clever a few minutes ago. Now it sounded sad.

  “Anna.” Chris clasped her hands. “I know it’s sudden, but this is not as crazy as it sounds. I’ve watched you, watched the way you’ve behaved during the show. I know you’d never sue me or try to get a better deal.”

  “Of course not.” She couldn’t imagine anything better than paid vacations anyway. Except love.

  “This will be good for both of us.”

  “It feels mercenary.”

  “It’s not. It’s warm-hearted and kind.” Chris squeezed her fingers. “Anna Williams, will you marry me?”

  “OK.” She couldn’t stop herself. “Yes.” Anna’s knees wobbled and Chris caught her. “I will.” She hoped he’d kiss her. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder and stepped back.

  “Great!” Chris smiled broadly. “Fantastic! I’ll head back immediately and set this up with my lawyer.”

  “OK.” Anna’s stomach knotted.

  Chris strode off, past the buzzing objections of the production crew, past his reclining cousin, directly to the parking lot.

  Am I insane? Anna watched the man drive
away. Did I just promise to marry the nicest guy I’ve ever met…for a price? Of course, they’d have to see each other regularly. Maybe we’ll fall in love…. Anna shook off that fantasy. It wouldn’t happen. What would happen was free vacations on this incredible island every year for the rest of her life.

  She forced a smile. Things could be worse.

  Two bridacudas stormed across the grass toward Anna: Tiffany, who’d won the volleyball match, and Kayla, who’d come in last. Considering her angry expression, Kayla must have been cut from the show. Anna retrieved her sketchbook from the stone wall with a sense of foreboding.

  The women halted on either side of her just as a cameraman caught up to them.

  Kayla sneered. “Enjoy your private conference, bitch?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes, I did.”

  Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’ve got a chance with my fiancé?”

  Anna crossed her arms.

  “You think,” Kayla said, “Chris Andersen would marry a mouse like you?”

  “A frog?” Tiffany shoved Anna sideways.

  “A toad?” Kayla shoved harder.

  Anna glanced at the camera crew. Were they going to just stand there while she got bullied? But no, of course not. They were carefully recording the whole thing. She scowled at everyone. “Go away!”

  “You’re the one with the lowest votes,” Kayla spat. “Why don’t you go away?”

  “Good idea.” Anna clutched her sketchbook against her chest and started forward. “Bye!”

  “Not like that!” Kayla knocked Anna’s sketchbook to the ground. “Why don’t you go for a swim?” She pushed Anna toward the stone wall.

  “Frogs like water!” Tiffany commented.

  Kayla grabbed Anna’s arm. “You’re a frog!”

  “Stop it!” Anna had never been in a fight. She’d never even been cursed at before! A choking lump formed in her throat, but she was not going to cry.

  The women heaved Anna upward as if to throw her into the ocean. But that was ridiculous. The wall wasn’t close enough to the cliff. As soon as they figured that out, they’d probably hit her.