Sweetheart Bride: A Tropical Billionaire Marriage of Convenience (Brides of Paradise Book 2)

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Sweetheart Bride: A Tropical Billionaire Marriage of Convenience (Brides of Paradise Book 2) Page 15

by Vicky Loebel


  The giant TV above him lit to show an aerial view of Gran’s property, zooming and panning, coming to rest facing the wooded hill.

  “We started pretty well.” Ryan’s original model faded in. “Fifteen stories, a rooftop garden, luxury boat docks, and windows that reflect the land and sea.”

  The animated model looked completely real. Ellie saw several people crane their necks, looking for it.

  “But something happened,” Ryan continued. “I fell in with a bad crowd.”

  Ellie sat up. Was he confessing to bribes?

  “Environmentalists,” Ryan said, getting a hearty laugh. “One in particular with pretty strong ideas. So we came up with this.”

  The model changed to show each of Ellie’s improvements as Ryan read them off. “Passive assist climate control, expanded rainwater management….” The list went on. “I loved these changes, and before I knew it, I’d fallen in love with the environmentalist as well. I know you’re all dying to meet her.” He turned. “Ellie? Would you please join us?”

  “Me?” The giant TV zoomed in on Ellie’s chair.

  Ryan walked toward her, and Ellie steeled her nerve. She wouldn’t fail him. Not here in public. She walked with more confidence than she felt onto the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, my better half—possibly my better two-thirds—the brilliant and beautiful Ms. Ellie Andersen.”

  Ellie smiled frozenly, gripping Ryan’s hand. The big casino appeared over their heads and Ryan started again.

  “But there’s more to this than a love story. Ellie always believed St. John could not support the casino. It took some work, but somehow, when I wasn’t thinking clearly on our honeymoon” —more laughs— “she cut me down to size. This is what we came up with next.”

  The screen changed and the six-floor casino faded in. This one was lovelier than the others, with a soft golden tint that made it glow against the land. A few people clapped uncertainly, but Ryan held up one hand.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Because nice as it looks, when we ran the numbers, this building didn’t work. But after hitting the drawing board one last time, we finally designed an almost perfect building, one that fits the environment, runs smoothly, and meets the needs of local people. I give you—Casino Paradise.”

  And there it was, the shimmering golden high-rise from the binders. “Eighteen stories. Built to withstand the toughest hurricane. Almost completely energy self-sufficient, with water recovery, recycling, parking, and public spaces for islanders to enjoy.

  Applause took off in waves while the screen ran a 3D tour showing the inside atrium, rooftop garden, a miniature wind farm and solar plant. Ellie kept her lips locked in a smile.

  “One more thing.” He grinned triumphantly. “We’re not building Casino Paradise here.”

  “We’re what?” Carl Andersen jumped to his feet.

  “Sorry, Dad,” Ryan answered. “Turned out I was less terrified of CasParDev than of my wife.” The audience was roaring with laughter, now. “So after a little scrambling, a lot of legal work, and some invaluable assistance from the gambling commission and our honorable Governor, I give you—Casino Paradise of St. Thomas.”

  He gestured at the screen. Ellie—the whole crowd—watched Gran’s property dissolve, leaving the gleaming high-rise by itself. Then a new background faded in. One with a huge expanse of beachfront and a tall hill that exactly fit its scale. A place with room for a long boat dock and parking for cars.

  Villa Louisa. Ellie recognized the shoreline. He’s bulldozing Villa Louisa. Ryan had sacrificed his childhood home for hers. She waited out a storm of cheers, and camera flashes, and applause.

  “But wait.” Ryan settled the group again. “One more surprise. After all the trouble we went to getting permits, CasParDev still plans to build on St. John.”

  Ellie stared numbly.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the future site of the Louisa Andersen Center for Environmental Education.”

  Gran’s property reappeared, this time graced by a series of low stone cabins overlooking the sea. Each designed to be a natural extension of the landscape, each with its own solar panels and cisterns for rain. A big communal dining room and education center near the beach was decorated—Ellie squinted—in Aztec symbols. Inside the building, through computer-generated windows, she saw Ryan’s mom’s art displayed on shelves.

  “Oh, Ryan.” Ellie’s heart expanded. “Oh, my.”

  She wasn’t sure when she hugged him. She only knew she’d never let him go.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It wasn’t every day a man losing a fortune felt like a king. Ryan sat at a conference table in Henrik’s office, gripping Ellie’s hand, trying to relax muscles that were exhausted from grinning. He was worn out, dirty from his long afternoon outside, and—most of all—eager to take his wife home to bed.

  But he owed it to Henrik to see this farce through. And so he faced the men who controlled his fortune—Carl and Henrik—waiting to take his medicine.

  “Tricks and gambling games,” his father sputtered, red-faced. “That’s what this project has been to you. A bunch of high-stakes bets and fast dance steps where all that matters is for you to tap your way to the top. I thought you’d changed. I thought you’d settled down with someone sensible.” He glanced at Ellie and, to Ryan’s surprise, became slightly less red. “But it’s still all tricks and games.”

  “In fairness, Carl,” Henrik said mildly, “there was some reason for secrecy. A change like this, moving our building permits across the sound, ruffles a lot of feathers. Ryan was contractually obligated” —he waved his fingers at the papers on the desk— “to make sure nothing stopped CasParDev from breaking ground today.”

  “Ah, but you didn’t, did you,” Carl accused. “You got so wrapped up in your own cleverness, you broke ground on that Flintstone children’s camp instead.”

  “The Louisa Andersen Center for Environmental Education,” Ellie said, making Ryan flush proudly. “So there!”

  Carl’s eyes met hers. Almost, Ryan thought, with approval.

  “As a matter of fact,” Ryan said. “we did break ground on Casino Paradise today. Henrik and I met the contractor at Villa Louisa at dawn.” Easy enough for Ryan. He’d only had to walk out his door. “It wasn’t a big ceremony, but we’ve got permits and we started construction.” That wouldn’t make any difference as far as his fortune was concerned. But it was a sweet personal victory.

  Henrik passed his brother a thick binder. “The paperwork’s in order, I believe. Naturally, I encourage you to review it.”

  “Traitor,” Carl grumbled, although without much heat. “I ought to fire you and take my business someplace else.”

  It was an empty threat. No sane man fired Henrik. Besides, for some reason Ryan never understood, the mismatched brothers were close friends.

  “You must follow your conscience,” Henrik replied. “As must I.”

  “Humph.” Carl turned his bad temper on Ryan. “So now you’re done playing developer.”

  “I plan to hand things over to CasParDev in the agreed-upon fashion. Yes.”

  “Then what? I sign your papers. You’re rich again.” He grabbed a pen and bent it into an arc between his hands. “And you run off to train for moon launches, or deep-sea caving, or making documentaries inside volcanos.”

  “That’s ridiculous—” Ryan stopped. Those were exactly the sorts of things he used to do. “Actually,” he said, a little more humbly, “after we finish with CasParDev, Ellie and I are going back to college.”

  The pen snapped, spraying ink. “College!”

  Was that so shocking? “I’m going to finish my masters in architecture.” Maybe it was shocking. Maybe his dad was not used to hearing the word finish in Ryan’s mouth. “Ellie’s investigating a program in eco-design.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I do say. Yes.” He tried to copy Henrik’s mild voice. “So you see, we’ll manage fine without the money.”
<
br />   Henrik’s mouth twitched. Why did people find the idea of Ryan managing so damn funny?

  “Well, son.” Carl mopped ink with his handkerchief. “I can’t sign your papers.”

  So that was it. Ryan exhaled slowly, glad the uncertainty was over. “I understand, sir.” He stood and offered his hand. “And I respect your decision.”

  His father rumbled. “I cannot sign your goddamn papers because they’re already signed. Henrik and I released control of your assets three days ago, after an audit of CasParDev.”

  Ryan looked at his uncle. “You mean he knew? That we moved the casino?”

  “Your father is my client and business partner. It would hardly have been ethical to lie.”

  “But if….” Ryan’s thoughts whirled. “But why…?” Why were they having this conversation? He had the strong impression the two older men were doing some triumphant tap dancing of their own.

  “Did Bekka know?” he asked, puzzled.

  Carl snorted. “From the howl she let out when she realized Casino Paradise was going to spoil her view, I’m guessing no.” He grunted. “You had a narrow escape there, son. We’ve been sick to death with worry you’d marry the woman.”

  “What?” Ryan’s mouth opened. If there’d been flies nearby, he’d have swallowed them. “I thought you liked Bekka. I thought you were dating her.”

  “Dating, no. Socializing, yes. I wanted to be sure she’d leave you alone.”

  “You made her a partner in CasParDev.”

  “That was business. She’s a smart woman. Great with customers. A very solid investor.”

  “You ordered her to marry me. You gave her Mom’s ring!”

  “Can you think of anything that would have made you less likely to propose?” Carl smiled smugly. “Admittedly, when I got your text about a sweetheart engagement, I gave up in despair. Then you brought home this lovely, intelligent woman, and for the first time in years I felt hope.” He beamed at Ellie. “I admit, handcuffing the young lady to get her to put up with you was a bit extreme, but I never argue with results. Goodness knows you’ve produced few enough of them.”

  “Um,” Ryan said. “Thanks?”

  “You’ve been a hell of a difficult son, Ryan.”

  Henrik touched his arm. “Brother.”

  “OK.” Carl shook him off. “Maybe I’ve been a difficult dad. You’re so much like Louisa. Every time I look at you, I see her ghost. All those cliffs, helicopters, and high-dive platforms. All those crazy risks. It’s like you won’t be happy until you follow her to the rocks.”

  “I don’t—” A sharp kick on the shin stopped Ryan cold. He frowned at Ellie. He’d been adventurous, sure. Plenty of men went scuba-diving and dove off cliffs. But perhaps not so many skywalked on hotel ledges. Had he been trying to prove something? Defy his mother’s death? Copy it?

  “I loved Louisa,” Carl said gruffly. “I wasn’t always the best for her. But I adored her and she slipped through my fingers.” He leaned forward and put his hand on Ryan’s. “Ever since that terrible day, I’ve felt you slipping, too.”

  “Maybe I was.” Slipping, sliding, a desperate plunge that had brought him to Ellie. “But that’s over. I’ve been caught.” He glanced at his wife, wondering if his smile was as big as hers.

  “Be happy,” Carl said. “Be worthy. Don’t be a jerk. I wish you both the best.” He pulled his hand back and harrumphed. “Now, go away.”

  Everyone stood. To Ryan’s amazement, Ellie hurried around the table and hugged her father-in-law.

  “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for trusting me to look after Ryan.”

  “It’s a dirty job,” Henrik commented, “but someone’s got to do it.”

  Ellie chuckled and kissed Henrik as well. Then she returned to Ryan who, since he wasn’t settling for third place, kissed her four times as long. Or maybe five times….

  “Ahem,” Henrik interrupted. “We have a CasParDev meeting tomorrow morning at nine.”

  Oh, right. There’d still be months of work while Ryan wrapped up his phase of the project.

  “I think,” Ellie murmured, “Lucas took Oscar and the Jamalas on an overnight fishing trip. There’s no one home at Villa Louisa.”

  “No one?” That was too good to be true. “Time to go.” He herded his wife toward the exit.

  “You know,” Carl’s voice stopped them, “I wasn’t expecting thanks.”

  “Thanks? For the money?” Ryan turned back. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “But,” he continued, “I have to ask your bride. How does it feel to suddenly be one of the richest women in America?”

  “Dad, please.” Another woman might have stormed out, offended, but not Ellie. Ryan didn’t need to look to know she was standing there steadfast behind him.

  “One of the richest women in America?” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Ryan. “No different. You see, I already was.”

  Epilogue

  Ellie Andersen could not wait to give her granny Gigi a hug.

  “Thanks, Pete.” She skipped down the boat ramp and helped the ferryman load suitcases on the electric cart that would take the guests up the hill to their rooms. “Coming, slowpoke?” she called toward the boat.

  Ryan tottered along the incline carrying a large wooden crate. Inside, carefully packed in straw, were his mother’s last three clay sculptures from Hotel Ten. Ellie turned proudly to gaze at the new visitor center, at the guest bungalows dotting the hill. The place had been half finished the last time they’d been here, during spring break. Today, the first day of summer vacation, the Louisa Andersen Center for Environmental Education was open for business, and Ellie and Ryan were among its first guests.

  “Elliegator!” Gran emerged from the building and delivered Ellie’s hug. Gran and Frank had bought a condo on St. John, but they’d offered to help at the center while the new managers, Mr. and Mrs. Jamala, got everything running.

  “Elliegator!” Frank followed Gran with a tray of tropical punch, issuing the Costa Rican greeting that had stuck to his vocabulary, “Pura Vida! Welcome home.” He offered drinks to the three guest families who’d come across on the ferry and then sent them off with Mr. Jamala to settle into cabins.

  Ellie stood, sipping punch, bathing her soul in the familiar sights and sounds of Paradise Bay.

  “Will someone please tell me,” Ryan grumbled, “why I’m standing here holding a fifty-pound crate?”

  “Because you can’t bear to let it out of your hands?” Ellie grinned. “Come on. Let’s go open the gallery.” She walked beside him, enjoying the view of Ryan’s bulging forearms, and murmured, “We are so playing sexy stevedore tonight.”

  Ryan brightened. They went inside and admired the visitor center’s tall windows, each with its own retractable storm shutter, the wooden beams, sturdy tables for craft sessions and picnics, and the enormous floor mural, painted in metallic epoxy by Anna Andersen to showcase the plants and animals of the coral reef. A locally sourced restaurant at one end of the building was being set up as a gallery for Caribbean artists, and it was into the place of honor beside the doorway that Louisa’s pottery was unpacked and secured.

  Their last stop was a children’s play structure in the shape of a boat dedicated to the memory of Ellie’s own mother and father, including interactive exhibits that told her parents’ story and taught lessons in water safety. Ellie gripped Ryan’s hand, recognizing the ship’s wheel that had been salvaged from her parents’ wrecked sailboat.

  “I thought they’d like to be part of this.” Gran squeezed Ellie’s other arm. “I got the wheel out of the stuff we put in storage from your bedroom, but if you want to keep it, we can use a different one.”

  “It’s—” Her throat closed. Perfect. She couldn’t speak, but she hugged her family hard. Ellie sat with Gran at a teak picnic table, sipping punch, watching the unspoiled beach and the familiar green shape of St. Thomas across the open water. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

  Frank del
ivered a tray of sandwiches prepared by Mrs. Jamala. “I understand you youngsters are going to be around for the summer.”

  “We rented an apartment next to the university.” Ellie’s heart was too full for food. “I need a couple of classes to finish my degree, and Ryan has to do an architectural internship for his master’s. He talked the firm building Casino Paradise into taking him on.”

  “Sounds tricky,” Gran said, “getting bossed around by people he pays.”

  “I guess they need their pencils sharpened like anyone else.” Her husband would make it work. Ellie watched Ryan wander onto the beach and get immediately caught up in a game of Frisbee with some kids, racing back and forth across the sand.

  A dog, she thought firmly. We are definitely getting a dog.

  They toured the eco-cabins with the Jamalas, each surrounded by undisturbed woods and wildlife, and then they took the new, freshly landscaped path to the Paradise Resort to have an early dinner with Chris, Anna, and their three-month old baby boy. By the time the sun reached the water, Ellie was more than ready to sit in front of their little cabin and enjoy the sea breeze with a bottle of wine. Across the water, the steel bones of Casino Paradise were half enveloped in a skin of gold-tinted glass. Ellie had to admit, the building was going to be beautiful.

  “Do you miss it?” She snuggled close to Ryan. “Villa Louisa?”

  “I never really lived there.” He cupped both hands around hers, making their private gesture for home. “It was always too close to my dad for comfort.”

  “I guess I can see that.” Ellie was growing fond of her gruff father-in-law, but she wouldn’t want to live quite so nearby. “More wine?”

  “No thanks. Time for bed.” Ryan had changed into long sleeves for dinner. Now he undid the cuffs and started methodically rolling them up.

  Ellie watched the man’s well-defined forearms emerge. Funny. He’d been wearing short sleeves all day. Why did a glimpse of bicep suddenly take her breath away?

  “If I’m the sexy stevedore.” Ryan stood up, flexing. “What are you? Secretary of the UN? Saucy chambermaid?”

 

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