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

by Loebel, Vicky

  Anna fingered the expensive lace. All at once, making the day special seemed important. She stripped off her sundress and tried on the gown. It wasn’t a genuine wedding dress, but the effect was close. She stared at her reflection, wondering what it would be like to be a real bride.

  Maybe I am a real bride. Captain Greta seemed to think so. Maybe Chris and I are falling in love. The thought made Anna’s heart beat faster. Of course, it was just a daydream. In reality, she barely knew the man.

  Captain Greta sat Anna in front of a built-in dressing table. “It’s good Chris found someone to share his secret.” She took a brush and hairspray out of a drawer. “He’s been afraid people will act different since his uncle’s death.”

  “That’s terrible!” Anna wanted to find Chris and comfort him. “Why should anything change?”

  “You’re a good person.” The captain patted Anna’s shoulder. “Believe me, most women would change a lot if they knew Chris had inherited a fortune.” She undid Anna’s ponytail. “People treat billionaires differently. It’s just a fact. That’s why he’s taken so much trouble to hide the truth.” She set to work twisting and styling Anna’s hair. “He needed someone to trust.”

  Someone to trust.

  Anna studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked exactly like a living, breathing woman. Why did she suddenly feel like a block of wood? Chris needed someone to trust with his secret. “You’re right.” She watched the captain pin her hair. “You’re right,” Anna repeated. “Chris needed someone to trust.”

  But since he hadn’t told her, she clearly wasn’t the one.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chris hadn’t been on the Tordensky in years, but if he thought that meant he was getting married in jeans, he’d underestimated Captain Greta. Not only was there a new, precisely tailored suit waiting for him in the owner’s cabin, but shoes, dress shirts, and an appropriate selection of ties. She’d even provided a boutonnière. Chris dressed, half pleased, half irritated by the captain’s efficiency, although why she’d gone to so much trouble over a fake marriage was a mystery.

  Maybe she doesn’t believe it’s fake. Chris had known Greta since she’d been a bright-eyed sixteen-year-old sailing instructor and he’d been an elementary-school puppy trailing in her wake. He’d told her everything about Anna. She understood the situation as well as he did.

  Maybe I don’t believe it’s a fake marriage, either.

  The thought troubled Chris. He couldn’t deny he and Anna had chemistry. They’d felt it the first moment they’d touched. In the days since they decided to marry, Chris had been ambushed, over and over, by fantasies of taking Anna to bed. He swallowed hard, remembering Anna’s fingers on his arm, her tentative exploration of his palm. He longed to sweep her up and watch her brown eyes open with startled desire.

  Which won’t be happening, he told himself sternly. Not today.

  Damn.

  Chris draped a tie around his neck and knotted it into a half Windsor. Then he tugged it out and tied a full Windsor instead. His feelings for Anna weren’t merely physical. He loved her sense of humor, her loyalty to her dad. Most of all, he admired Anna’s steady refusal to behave like a bridacuda. If they got through the show—when they got through—he’d like a chance to spend more time with her.

  How that could be, how his whole world could change so much in a couple of weeks, Chris didn’t know. But to have a real relationship, he’d have to tell her the real truth, and that scared him. What if she didn’t want his family’s contaminated money? What if she found out Chris was rich and wanted him more?

  What if Anna turned into a bridacuda?

  She’s not. She wouldn’t. We’ll work it out.

  Chris inserted his boutonnière and went to the salon, a bright, honey-colored room that took up the back half of the Tordensky’s second level. He walked about, poking unexpected flower arrangements, pacing in and out between the salon and the deck. All these wedding preparations were making him nervous.

  “OK.” Anna appeared in the door. “I guess I’m ready.” She’d changed into a stunning mid-length lace dress and swept her hair into an elegant style that left her neck bare.

  Chris’ heart pounded. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Anna shrugged. “Captain Greta said she’d be along soon.”

  “Are you OK?” Chris walked to Anna and took her hands. Her skin was cold. “Are you chilly? Queasy? Do you need to lie down?” The yacht had stabilizers, but some people were sensitive. “You mentioned boating on Lake Michigan, so I thought we’d be good.”

  “I never boated on anything like this yacht.” Anna shook her head. “But I’m not seasick. It’s fine.”

  Chris led Anna onto the deck and ran inside to fetch a glass of water.

  “Thanks.” She took a sip. “It’s probably nerves. And…you know….” Anna waved her hand. “Flowers. All this. Designer clothes. A private ceremony on Ryan’s yacht. They’re not what I expected.”

  Ryan’s yacht. Chris felt a twinge of guilt at the misdirection. “Greta’s going a little overboard,” he told Anna. “I’ve known her for twenty years. She’s the only person I trusted with the truth.”

  “Obviously.” Anna looked down at her toes. “The thing is, I thought I knew what we were doing. Trading favors. Helping each other out. And now, between the clothes, and flowers, and this amazing yacht….” Her shoulders sagged. “It makes the afternoon feel like a lie.”

  “It’s not a lie. It’s just….”

  “Not true. I know.” Anna gripped the railing. “I miss my dad.”

  Chris cursed himself mentally. Of course she missed her dad. The more like a real wedding they made this, the more alone Anna had to feel. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He put one arm around her waist.

  She started to soften but then pulled away.

  Chris swallowed hurt feelings. “Should we put on our old clothes? Captain Greta can throw the flowers overboard while we change.”

  Anna shook her head slowly.

  Chris faced the salon, leaning his back on the railing. Maybe Anna’s problem wasn’t her missing father. Maybe she felt as confused about the whole ceremony as Chris.

  “Anna,” he said carefully, “you know how much I appreciate your doing this. It’s a relief to know the show can’t pressure me into a wedding.”

  “Right.” She rested her chin on one hand. “And I’m excited about my father’s vacations.”

  “But I want something else. I’d like you to stay a while after the contest, so we can get to know each other better.”

  “I’m not sure that’s smart.”

  “I’m sure. My life’s been crazy the last couple of years. I’ve been crazy. And the bridacudas stir up everything I’ve always hated about my family’s money.”

  “You mentioned that, yeah.”

  Chris laughed. “So I did. But there’s something I haven’t mentioned, which is, despite all the reasons to hate it, you’ve made Vacation Bride worthwhile.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “There are a million things I need to tell you, to discuss with you, and some of them are pretty huge.” Chris took a breath. “I don’t know what will happen, but I think there’s something between us, and I swear I’ve never felt this way about a woman before.” He touched her hand. “Promise you’ll stay on as my guest after we’re married. Tell me you’ll give us a chance to work everything out.”

  “What if we don’t? What if there is no everything?” Anna clasped his fingers. “What if there isn’t any us?”

  “Then I’ll be sad. And you’ll be sad. But we’ll be even sadder if we never try.”

  She stood a long moment and then stepped forward and hugged him. “OK.” She nestled against his chest. “OK.”

  Chris rested his cheek on Anna’s fragrant hair. She felt so right, he’d like to hold her forever, but that would have to wait. “By the way. I’m serious about Greta’s wedding preparations.” He tipped her nose up and kiss
ed it. “One word from you and the whole lot goes into the ocean.”

  Anna frowned skeptically. “Even that suit that makes you look like a Hollywood movie star?”

  “Say the word.” Chris loosened his tie.

  “OK, smarty.” She crossed her arms. “Strip.”

  Chris yanked the tie off his neck, swung it once, and hurled it over the railing. The wind caught the fabric, whisked it across the lower deck, and carried it out to sea. He grinned at Anna. “Your turn.”

  She glanced down at her outfit. “Oh, no! I couldn’t.”

  “Fair’s fair.” Chris reached for her.

  “My dress is all one piece!” Anna darted around a deck chair.

  “Well, then.” Chris unbuttoned his suit coat. “I’ll have to go again.” It seemed a shame to waste the tailored jacket. Nevertheless, he slipped it off and prepared for launch.

  “No!” Anna gasped. “No, wait! I’m sorry I was cranky. I love the yacht, the flowers, the way you look. Don’t change anything!”

  “You’re not just saying that to keep from seeing me naked?”

  “Definitely not.” She blushed prettily. “But we need our clothes right now. I believe Captain Greta is ready for us.”

  In fact, Greta stood in the double doors to the salon, dressed in her formal blue yacht-captain’s uniform. Behind her, out of uniform but brushed and presentable, stood the two crewmembers who’d be acting as witnesses.

  “Ahem.” The captain pointedly ignored Chris’ absent tie. “I believe everything’s in order.”

  Chris offered Anna his arm. She hesitated, looking a little panicked, then nodded quickly and joined him. They followed Greta to a candle-lit buffet that managed to suggest, without in any way imitating, a wedding altar.

  “Because we’re not having a formal ceremony,” the captain said, “there are no legal requirements except to sign the papers.” The atmosphere in the salon became solemn. She turned to face them. “Do you, Chris Andersen, freely and of your own choice take this woman to be your wife?”

  “Yes.” Chris put his hand on top of Anna’s. “I do.”

  “And do you, Anna Williams, freely and of your own choice take this man to be your husband?”

  Anna held Chris’ elbow. “I do.”

  “Do you have vows you wish to share?”

  Chris started to shake his head, but changed his mind. “Anna, I promise, as long as we’re married, to keep you safe and put your needs ahead of mine.”

  Anna blinked in surprise and then, after a thoughtful moment, nodded. “Chris, I promise, as long as we’re married, to trust you, and keep you safe, and put your needs ahead of mine.”

  That seemed enough. Chris held onto Anna, touched by her tender expression, barely noticing when Captain Greta pronounced them husband and wife. Then realizing the deed was done, he bent and kissed his bride. Too soon, he had to let her go. They held hands, grinning shyly, while the ship’s witnesses signed the marriage license.

  “Congratulations.” Captain Greta slapped Chris’ back. “I think you two will be happier than you realize.” She traded hugs with Anna. “Meanwhile….” The captain gestured to a table set with delicacies, crowned by a small but beautifully decorated wedding cake. “Lunch is served.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I can’t do this.” Lani gripped Anna’s arm. “We’re going to die.”

  “We’re not. Of course you can.” Anna stared at the enormous idling helicopter and faked a confident smile. “We’ve swum races, juggled sea urchins, chased greased donkeys, and built emergency shelters out of twigs.” To name a few of the annoying things they’d done on Vacation Bride. “We are absolutely going to bungee jump!”

  “I know it’s a little late to mention this, but I’m afraid of heights.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since heights started coming equipped with their own Chinook helicopters!”

  Anna was having a little trouble facing the day’s event herself. In theory, each of the six remaining contestants was supposed to dive out of the helicopter, perform her choice of acrobatics on a bungee line, and then drop to the ocean to be picked up by a speedboat. They’d spent all yesterday practicing on a jumping rig in St. Thomas, which actually was loads of fun. Lani, a former gymnast, had been spectacularly good and Anna, who’d done some casual diving with her high-school swim team, at least managed to mostly flip instead of flop.

  And yet confronted with an actual twin-rotor helicopter, Anna was having second thoughts. The thing was so darn big and noisy. “We’ll be over water,” she told Lani. “Even if something breaks, worst case is a thirty-foot drop. You might get a nosebleed if you hit wrong, but nobody’s going to die.” She thought a minute. “Unless there’s sharks.” She wondered if sharks were attracted to helicopter sounds.

  “The worst case is not dropping into water. The worst case is: the bungee breaks, you drop, the cord springs up and tangles around the helicopter, which ignites, plummets, and lands in an exploding fireball on top of you and your bleeding nose before the sharks show up.”

  “OK, that’s worse,” Anna admitted. “But I’m jumping, and if you don’t, I’ll place the curse of Old Milwaukee on your head.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your beer will smell like dead alewives—dead fish—for all eternity.”

  Lani’s nose wrinkled.

  The truth was, Anna no longer cared about Vacation Bride. Chris had invited her to stay at the resort, which meant her dad could finish his vacation even if she dropped out. The only reason she showed up today was to support Lani.

  Well, not the only reason. Anna gazed across the blowing grass at Chris, who waited, looking unnaturally pale behind dark sunglasses. Chris’ uncle—Ryan’s too, presumably—had been killed in a helicopter crash. The fact Ryan was taking everyone up in the Chinook…. Anna’s hands squeezed into indignant fists. Chris wasn’t jumping. She didn’t see why he had to go along. But if he went up, she would, too. Chris wouldn’t be alone.

  A whistle blew and the director, Chandra, lined everyone up. “All right, ladies! Great news. Vacation Bride is rising in popularity. We expect to have over one hundred-thousand viewers during the live stream of this event, and as you know from here on the outcome is completely determined by internet votes.”

  That meant Anna would finally be eliminated. Hallelujah! She’d trailed in votes the whole time.

  “Of course,” Chandra continued, “our bachelor, Chris, can save any woman he thinks he might wish to marry. But since we don’t expect that to happen, you’re each advised to do your very best.” She waved the crew over. “Now for details, everyone will be fitted with waterproof cameras and microphones….”

  Anna submitted to being wired and strapped into a five-point jumping harness that could be inflated like a life jacket in an emergency. The red transmission light glowed on her microphone, warning her it was on.

  Lani leaned close and covered their mikes. “I’ve heard Silicon Valley completely shuts down during our broadcasts,” she whispered. “I’ve gotten seventy-three marriage proposals this week. How about you?”

  “Just one. But I haven’t really been checking.” Apart from texting Diane—carefully skipping any mention of Chris—Anna had avoided social media.

  “Well, trust me. I’ve already met the crowd-funding target for my video game. From now on, I don’t care whether I win or lose.” She let the microphones go.

  The helicopter blades whirled faster, kicking up dirt. The production crew wheeled their last piece of video equipment up the ramp.

  Anna squinted at Lani. “If you’re saying you’re not going to come—”

  “I’m saying, Chris likes you. Everyone’s noticed. And you like him.”

  “I…um….” She thought she’d been discreet.

  “Besides, nobody else wants the guy. They’re only interested in the cash prize.”

  Anna knew no one else wanted Chris. Off camera, the bridacudas spent their time fluttering around the show
’s original bachelor, Ryan.

  “So no hard feelings if you win.” Lani held out her hand as a camerawoman zoomed in on them. “Best friends forever. Pinkie swear?”

  Anna laughed, but she locked pinkies anyway. “I swear.”

  “All right, ladies!” The show’s announcer, Bobbie, waved everyone over. “Group shot! Let’s see those smiles!”

  Anna lined up with Lani beside the other four contestants: brunette Jessica, statuesque Tiffany, wasp-waisted Veronica, and Marguerite, who spoke almost no English but charmed voters with her brilliant smile. Anna, in cutoffs and an Eat Cheese or Die T-shirt, had gotten used to her role as the contest’s Plain Jane. At least her makeup was good, thanks to Lani’s sister, and her French braid was perfect for high helicopter winds.

  Which means I’m going to jump. Anna glared at the Chinook. So there!

  “That’s great.” Bobbie ushered them forward. “Load up!”

  Anna dragged Lani up the ramp. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” They took their places on orange seats along the wall amid smells of worn rubber and helicopter fuel. Chris, Ryan, and Bobbie sat down last, next to the cargo ramp that would open for bungee jumping. The helicopter bay was dark and cave-like after the Caribbean sun, but Chris still had on his sunglasses.

  I will be brave. If Anna stayed calm, maybe he’d feel less stressed. She beamed with confidence she didn’t feel, got a tight-lipped nod from her secret husband, and nudged Lani to wave to the cameras. The ramp closed. The passengers pulled on bulky headsets as the helicopter swayed to life. All Anna could see through the row of square portholes above the opposite seats was empty blue sky.

  Chris folded his arms. “Before this starts.” His voice came flat over the earphones. “I want you all to know nobody has to jump. Any woman who’d rather stay in the helicopter gets an automatic save.” There was a click of microphone channels being cut. Bobbie and Ryan leaned forward to argue with Chris. A minute later, the PA switched back on.

  “That’s one-hundred percent correct,” Bobbie announced. “We’ve decided not to eliminate anyone today. We will be broadcasting, however, and as you’ve seen, today’s events may influence your overall popularity.” She smiled for the camera. “Right now, our pilot says we’re in position, so hang tight while we open the doors.”