Last Resort: Marriage

by Pamela Stone

  “Don’t be a wise guy,” she hissed. “And his name is Perry.” Interesting the way Aaron had pegged Perry in thirty seconds flat. Whereas her usually astute grandfather seemed to believe the guy had feelings for anything other than his bank account. Edward had substituted the brown-nosing smooth-talker for the son he’d lost. Perry excelled in every aspect where her father had fallen short. Advanced degree in hotel management, professional appearance, and above all, a willingness to dedicate every waking minute to the Harrington empire. Perry hadn’t been born a Harrington, but it was almost as if he’d been vaccinated with Edward’s DNA.

  Aaron grinned. “Think about it. We stay married a few months. I keep out of your hotel business and put my boat back in shape. Grandfather backs off. We get a quiet divorce and everybody’s happy. Beautiful plan.”

  “Ten thousand for a pretend engagement.”

  “Come on, Charlie.” He shook his head. “Short of marrying Percy, I’m your best shot at ever owning this place.”

  “I’ll pay Edward the hundred thousand as a down payment and buy the resort. I don’t have to marry either of you.”

  “Think of it this way. The resort is worth what, a hundred times that? You’ll be paying on the loan for years. And as long as you’re single, your grandfather will be riding your case about getting married and having a family. Pacify the old man. Marry me and he’ll sign the hotel over to you.”

  “No. I’ll figure out something,” she said, although no immediate alternative came to mind.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Granddaddy’s going to be disappointed when there’s no nuptials tomorrow.”

  “What do you expect after your brash announcement?” she snapped. “I’ll just have to explain.” Somehow.

  “You need me, Charlie.”

  She nodded toward the door. “Get out, Mr. Brody. I’m not marrying you or anyone else.”

  EDWARD STOOD AS SHE TOOK her seat across from him in the hotel restaurant. “Where’s your fiancé?”

  How could she tell him she’d lied about the engagement without making him so suspicious he’d never agree to sell her the resort? “Aaron had to arrange for someone to take his tour.” She glanced around. “No Perc—Perry?”

  “I told him to make himself scarce. Charlotte, are you certain about marrying this man? I’ve never heard you mention Aaron Brody until today.”

  “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

  “As I’m sure there are things you don’t know about your fiancé.”

  This was probably her best opening. “Look, Edward—”

  “I don’t trust this guy. He’s seeing dollar signs.”

  “Perry’s the one seeing dollar signs.”

  “Just because the man hurt your pride in college is no call to be snide. He’s grown up. So should you.” He leveled his gaze. “If I truly believed Aaron was in love with you, I’d be delighted. But…”

  “You don’t believe he could love me?” Maybe she wasn’t the type men typically craved in their beds, but she wasn’t exactly a dog, either.

  “You’re not thinking clearly. Love clouds a woman’s judgment. I don’t want you hurt and I have to protect my business. I’ve worked too damn hard to risk some fortune hunter taking you to the cleaners.”

  She twisted her napkin. If she didn’t know her grandfather had her best interest at heart, she’d reach across the table and yank his red power tie until his face matched.

  “Aaron isn’t like that,” she said, although not more than fifteen minutes ago, he’d tried to do exactly that.

  Edward pushed his chair back and stood. “He is and I can prove it.” With that parting shot, he turned and strode out of the restaurant.

  AARON GLANCED UP FROM WORKING on his defunct engine and narrowed one eye as Edward Harrington boarded the Free Wind. One thing Aaron could say for the guy, he was better dressed than the typical clientele.

  Harrington slid a leather checkbook from the breast pocket of his tailor-made jacket and flipped it open. “How much?”

  Aaron grabbed a grease rag off his toolbox and wiped his hands as he stood. “Excuse me?”

  “No games. How much to get you out of my granddaughter’s life? What’ll it take to make you disappear? Fifty thousand? A hundred?” Edward stared at him in disdain.

  Nothing ever changed. He might as well be back on the streets of Miami with everyone who passed scowling at him as if he was slime that had washed in at high tide.

  A flock of seagulls squawked overhead. Harrington glanced up and frowned as if he expected them to shut up on command. “A working-class man like yourself meets a woman of Charlotte’s means and sees an opportunity to make a fortune.” He scoffed at the greasy tools scattered across the deck and took a slender gold pen out of his pocket. “Well, she’s not as vulnerable as you thought. You’ve got to deal with me. Two hundred thousand?”

  Two hundred thousand?

  Harrington nailed him with a stare, waiting for him to bite. Aaron pictured all the new equipment that much money could buy. Hell, he could get a new boat.

  “Come on, Mr. Brody, every man has a price. Give it up. I’m not having my granddaughter taken by a two-bit crook.”

  Harrington’s smug confidence burned his ass. Thought his fat bank account gave him the power to control the world. “Do you need a step-by-step diagram of where to stick that checkbook?”

  Aaron had the pleasure of watching Edward’s self-assured smirk fade as he replaced the checkbook in his pocket and strolled off the Free Wind.

  He was going to hate himself in the morning. But hell, once Charlie told her grandfather she’d broken off the engagement the check would be about as worthless as his archaic engine anyway.

  Chapter Two

  “I may have been a bit rash in judging your fiancé,” Edward admitted as he folded himself into the wing chair across from Charlotte’s desk.

  Her fingers stilled over her keyboard. “You’re admitting you were wrong?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” He held up one hand. “But I’m willing to give him a chance.”

  She shut down the spreadsheet she’d been staring at. What had transpired between him and Aaron?

  “Let’s face facts. To my knowledge, the only serious relationship you’ve ever had was with Perry. And look how you handled that.”

  Nibbling her lip, she told herself he didn’t mean that quite how it sounded. He didn’t know the full story. But then, she’d never actually leveled with him about Perry for fear of confirming his belief that women let emotions cloud their judgment.

  “Getting along with people is not your forte.”

  A true enough fact, but it stung just the same. The man was a master at capitalizing on people’s vulnerabilities. “Not my forte? I learned everything I know from you.”

  “Don’t get upset. I’m trying to protect you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “From what?”

  “Yourself.” He exhaled. “Now, you can marry your scuba diver—”

  “I don’t need your permission.”

  “No, you don’t.” Edward steepled his fingers. “But if you want this resort, you’ll listen to my proposal.”

  She clenched her fists in her lap. As usual, everything had to be by Edward’s rules.

  “Aaron passed the first test, but I’m far from convinced that romance is his driving force. Still, I’m willing to give the marriage a chance. If, after say six months, I’m satisfied as to Mr. Brody’s motives, I’ll sign the Marathon resort over to you, like I promised. At least you’ll have a means to support yourself.”

  Aaron had been right. He was her best shot at ever owning the hotel. But could she marry and pretend to be in love for six months? Could Aaron? It shouldn’t be too difficult. They only had to put up a front when Edward was around, and he had twelve resorts demanding his time.

  Edward cleared his throat. “Perry has agreed to stay on as your assistant manager. He’ll report directly to me.”

  Her entire
body tensed in outrage. She should have known he’d have a trump up his sleeve. “I don’t need Perry.”

  “Take it or leave it.” He folded his arms. “I have to look out for you and protect my business.”

  She bolted to her feet. “But I’ve been running this resort alone for almost five years.”

  “I’m not sure you’re thinking with your brain at the moment,” he said. “Of course, Aaron will sign a prenuptial.”

  “He already offered. I told him it wasn’t necessary.” If she was going to bluff, might as well pull out all the stops.

  He looked at her as if she were some poor lovesick fool. “Oh, Charlotte!”

  “I’m not as naive about men as you think. I know my fiancé.” She could handle Aaron Brody. On the other hand, she thought, remembering the kiss, maybe she was a poor lovesick fool.

  CHARLOTTE STEPPED ON BOARD Aaron’s boat, half hoping he wasn’t there. Could she pull this off?

  Easy to see why he needed the money. The Free Wind was a dilapidated fiberglass boat in desperate need of a face-lift. The hull had probably been white at one time, but had taken on more of a dirty yellow hue. The wood deck was warped.

  She’d about decided the boat was deserted when she caught sight of him sitting behind a desk in a miniscule office.

  The afternoon sun barely filtered through the salt-crusted window. He stood as she stepped through the door into the cramped, paneled office. “What did I do to rate two Harringtons in one day?”

  She choked down her pride. “We’ll have to draw up a prenuptial agreement.”

  Aaron frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “But ten thousand is my final offer.” She adopted her don’t-mess-with-me, business tone.

  “Lady, I’ve been insulted enough for one afternoon. Take your money and do your husband shopping somewhere else.”

  Humiliation burned through her. She couldn’t even buy a husband. Did he want her to beg? She shouldered her purse and turned to go.

  But go where? Back to Edward and admit Aaron didn’t want to marry her?

  She straightened her shoulders and faced him. “You were right. You’re my only viable option.”

  He leaned over, flattened his palms on his desk, and focused his sea-green eyes on her. “A hundred thousand, which I know you can get your hands on, deposited in an account in my name and I’ll sign a prenup that says I walk away with my business and the money in my accounts.” His jaw stiffened. “If it doesn’t specify what I do get, I don’t sign.”

  Charlotte let out her breath. She never thought she’d negotiate a marriage like a business contract. Who said she didn’t know how to manage relationships?

  “Let’s make sure we understand each other. This is business.” She leaned into his face. “We get married and Edward returns to Boston. In six months, providing we can convince him that a) we’re blissfully in love and b) you’re trustworthy, he’ll sign the resort over to me. At that point, we file for divorce. And—” she paused for effect “—I have no intention of sharing your bed as part of the arrangement.”

  That announcement slowed him down a pace or two.

  “And it won’t kill you to take a couple months off from your playboy lifestyle.”

  “Playboy?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Just because I’m no damn monk? Don’t tell me, you’re saving yourself for marriage. Oh, wait, you don’t want sex then, either.”

  Sarcasm dripped from his words. Okay, so sexuality wasn’t her strong point, but still.

  Aaron studied the top of his desk and took out his cigarettes. After a glance at her, he shoved the pack back in his pocket. “I’m not thrilled with sharing your bed, either, sweetheart, but you know as well as I do the old man won’t believe this farce unless we share accommodations.” He flashed a wicked grin. “Your place or mine, Charlie?”

  The image of lying naked with this green-eyed macho maniac made her stop. She wasn’t the quivering, breathless type and getting naked didn’t figure into this.

  He flashed another charming smile, and extended his hand. “Let me see your phone.”

  The man didn’t even have a cell phone? She opened her purse and handed him the slim, silver device.

  His grin was pure devilish amusement as he punched in a number. “And a good day to you, Sara. Is Johnny around?”

  “What are you doing?” She narrowed her eyes.

  He smoothed his knuckles slowly down her cheek. “I’m taking care of the church and the preacher for tomorrow, Charlie. Think you can handle the rest?”

  AARON RAISED HIS SHOT GLASS and clinked it against Johnny’s. “To a hundred grand,” he repeated Johnny’s toast and then chugged down the whiskey.

  Raul Mendez, bartender and owner of the little waterfront, open-air dive, The Green Gecko, shook his head and scowled. “You really gonna go through with this?”

  With three ex-wives, Raul looked a little sick at the thought.

  “And she’s not even going to sleep with you?” Raul sloshed more whiskey into his glass and guzzled the contents in one swig.

  “That pretty much sums it up.” Aaron grimaced, removed the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and stabbed it into an ashtray. “The sacrifices a man will make for his business.” He reached across the polished wood bar, grabbed the bottle, and poured himself another shot. “By this time tomorrow night, I’ll be a married man.” He tossed back the golden glass of courage. “Sexless marriage and money to fix my boat. What more could a guy ask for?”

  Johnny shook his head. “Let me get this straight. You’ve finally met a woman you don’t want to bed and she’s the one you’ve decided to marry?”

  “You make me sound like some gigolo, for God’s sake. The name of the game is money, and Charlotte Harrington has the money I need.”

  “You don’t see anything wrong with marrying for money?” Raul asked.

  “Women have been doing it for centuries. This is the new age. Equal rights and all that.” Aaron stared at the bartender. “Need I remind you why Rosa left your ass?”

  Raul rubbed one hand across his forehead. “Money.”

  “The root of all relationships, one way or another.”

  “Make sure your lawyer looks over that prenup before you sign it,” Johnny advised. “From what I hear, Charlotte Harrington’s a cold-blooded businesswoman. You know the type. All work and no play.”

  “Well, then maybe she won’t bother me too much during this circus.”

  “Sí, she runs a tight ship, but Rosa says she’s a good boss,” Raul chimed in. “She says Senorita Harrington pays more than the other resorts and has good benefits.” He grabbed a towel from behind the bar and wiped down the polished surface. “Rosa thinks Senorita Harrington is lonely.” His eyes widened and he halted in midswipe. “Dios! Maybe she will enjoy having a man around and won’t give you a divorce!”

  “I don’t have to worry about that.” Aaron chuckled. “I’m not Miss Haughty Harrington’s type. She’s champagne and caviar. I’m pretty much beer and pretzels.”

  “I can picture you now bouncing a son on one knee and coddling a wee little daughter on the other,” Johnny said.

  Aaron winced. “You got the wrong guy. I have no intention of contributing my defective gene pool to any urchins. For now, I plan to fix the Free Wind and concentrate on building the most successful charter business in the Keys, courtesy of the Ice Queen.” He raised his glass. “To weddings, my friends.”

  “To weddings,” Johnny echoed.

  Raul looked like he’d swallowed a rotten egg. “You gonna get frostbite.”

  Aaron paid his tab and made his way back to his boat on foot. The smoky little bar wasn’t far from the slip where he docked the Free Wind and he needed some fresh air. Who was he kidding? He’d never even owned a car.

  The night was balmy for early March, but a cool salty breeze rustled through the palm trees and fanned the hair off his neck.

  God, he loved the Keys. Unspoiled by overdevelopment
, far from Miami, a few exclusive resorts. Dressing for dinner meant putting on a shirt with buttons. He was his own boss. Nobody riding his case. Between the charter business and scuba instructing, he got by okay. At least he had until the past few months when his twenty-year-old engine had decided to play out. He could only wire it together for so long.

  If Charlotte Harrington hadn’t been so desperate, the business would’ve been history. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. The kicker was he didn’t know how to do anything else.

  Aaron stooped and picked up a small conch shell. He’d never thought of Charlie sexually. The lady was a workaholic. That hotel of hers ran as smooth as a perfectly tuned pair of twin turbos, but she didn’t seem to relax. He’d never heard anybody mention dating her or running into her at a club. Besides, her family owned a whole damn chain of hotels. She was so far above his reach the air she breathed was in a separate hemisphere.

  He reared back his arm and lobbed the shell into the rolling Atlantic. The scorching summer afternoon he’d first met Ms. Harrington, she’d been wearing a navy suit with a silk blouse buttoned up to her chin. She’d stood out like a virgin in a whorehouse on the sweltering dock surrounded by people in shorts or swimsuits. How did she breathe in this tropical heat? But in three years, he’d never seen her look anything but calm, cool and collected.

  Until this morning.

  Grinding out his cigarette with his sneaker, he grinned. Charlie had squirmed when he’d put his hands on her today, as if his touch would soil her impeccable silk suit. Yet, her warm response to his kiss had been pretty damn willing.

  What would cool, calm, collected Charlotte be like if she let her hair down? He’d never seen her thick dishwater-blond hair flowing free, not once. She always wore it twisted up in some French knot, or French braid, or French something. Man, her hair. It had to be long, and…