Last Resort: Marriage

by Pamela Stone

  What was he thinking? He’d had too much to drink—and not near enough sex in the past few months.

  Stepping across the gangplank onto the Free Wind, he climbed down the companionway to his cramped cuddy below deck and punched the switch on the radio.

  He wasn’t going to miss sleeping on this bucket of bolts. A soft bed instead of a lumpy berth, a real bathroom instead of a closet he had to back into just to sit on the head, and best of all, funds to fix the Free Wind.

  The reality started to sink in.

  Flopping down on the berth, he listened to the ropes clanging against the mast of the sailboat in the next slip and tried to forget that this time tomorrow he’d be married. He linked his fingers behind his neck. But all he could picture was Charlie, sprawled across satin sheets, those long legs wrapped around him.

  Had he lost his ever-loving mind?

  AARON FROWNED AT EDWARD Harrington’s reflection in the department store mirror. The man had glued himself to his coattail like lint.

  “A white tux?” Aaron shook his head, slipped out of the jacket, and tossed it back to the clerk. “Black.”

  The clerk scurried off and old man Harrington shrugged. “Black is fine, if that’s what makes you comfortable. Do you love my granddaughter?”

  Forcing himself not to react, he focused on his reflection, combing his fingers through his freshly trimmed hair. “Look, Mr. Harrington. We rushed the wedding up so you could be here, but other than that, stay out of our business.”

  “My friends call me Edward.”

  “So does your granddaughter,” Aaron commented.

  “Yes, she does.” Harrington tilted his head. “Charlotte’s a smart woman. But, she needs a man who’ll help her slow down and enjoy life.”

  “And you think Thurman would’ve done that?” Aaron scoffed in disbelief.

  “Women need a family, a husband and children to love. A man to take care of them.”

  “Charlie can take care of herself.” Aaron slipped into the elegant black jacket the clerk held up.

  The last time he’d seen her, however, she’d been standing in the center of a horde of caterers and florists and looking as flustered as any real bride. Aaron grinned.

  “Black suits you.” Harrington straightened Aaron’s jacket collar then selected a black bow tie from the two the clerk held out. “Pleated shirt and cuff links.”

  Why argue? He figured the guy had forgotten more about fashion than Aaron had ever known. He could be a model for some upper-crust magazine like Senior GQ. A poor-as-dirt kid on the streets of Miami, Aaron had been lucky to have secondhand jeans.

  Harrington held the tie up to Aaron’s white T-shirt then dropped his hand and pierced him with a menacing glare. “You do anything to hurt my granddaughter and I’ll ruin you. You’ll wish you’d never heard the name Harrington. You understand me?”

  Aaron looked into his steel-gray eyes. How would he react when, instead of producing a baby in nine months, they produced divorce papers? “I’ll do everything in my power to make Charlie’s dreams come true.”

  The man seemed to weigh his words. “I don’t trust you. Something isn’t on the level, but if you’re the man Charlotte loves, I won’t argue. Just keep in mind, I’ll be watching every move you make.”

  He held his stare. “Yes, sir.”

  “And as the new assistant manager, Perry will be here to keep an eye on the business.”

  Aaron buttoned and then unbuttoned the jacket. No doubt, Perry was here to watch more than the business. The last thing they needed was Thurman snooping around.

  He remained patient while they measured the tux for alterations. Before he could pay for the evening wear, Harrington handed the clerk a platinum card. Aaron started to object, but changed his mind. This whole charade was for the old man’s benefit, anyway. Why shouldn’t he shoulder the expense? Any man who’d force his own granddaughter to get married just to spawn an heir deserved whatever he got.

  The clerk assured them the tux would be at the boat in forty-five minutes, altered, pressed and ready to go.

  Aaron never failed to be amazed at the power of the almighty buck. “Great, I’ll have fifteen minutes to dress and get to my wedding. Nothing like cutting things to the last minute.”

  “Do you have honeymoon plans?”

  A pretend honeymoon wasn’t part of the bargain. He had to get his boat running in two weeks or he’d have to cancel the tours he had booked for Spring Break. “Maybe we’ll take a trip in the fall.”

  “A good marriage deserves a good start. A couple days shouldn’t bankrupt either of you. Charlotte looks exhausted. Take time to relax and enjoy each other.”

  The old geezer actually seemed excited about the prospect of Charlie getting laid. Did he think he could control their sex life, too? “Don’t you have other children or grandchildren to worry about?”

  Harrington huffed. “My only son—the self-centered playboy—married a starlet with a brain the size of a pea. Two of a kind. They were killed nine years ago in the Alps when they ran their snowmobile off a cliff.”

  “Charlie’s parents?” Aaron winced at Harrington’s nod, picturing how devastated self-reliant Charlotte probably was by the loss of her parents. “She must have been what, nineteen or twenty?”

  “You two don’t talk much, do you?” Harrington asked.

  “Hasn’t exactly been high on the priority list.”

  The old man pursed his lips. “Don, Charlotte’s older brother, was in California at the time, studying acting. Like his mother in more ways than I care to discuss.” Edward took a breath. “And then there’s Charlotte.”

  “And then there’s Charlotte,” Aaron repeated. “There is Charlotte.”

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte’s head throbbed. Things were happening too fast. How could her entire life turn upside-down in thirty-six hours?

  The reflection in the pink marble-framed mirror was that of a stranger. Soft curls teased her cheek. She shifted from one satin stiletto to the other and tried to stand still as the hairdresser fussed with the placement of tiny flowers in her hair. She fingered her grandmother’s pearls. Today they felt more like a noose than a treasured family heirloom.

  She’d never made use of the spa at the resort for more than an occasional massage, yet today Edward had pushed her into the shell-pink suites where her body had been massaged, waxed, buffed and conditioned. Her nails were French-tipped and the girl had painted a tiny white flower on her big toe. Subtle highlights streaked her freshly trimmed and curled hair. The artistically applied makeup put the two-minute blush and mascara she smeared on each morning to shame.

  Edward had instructed Rosa, the woman who ran the resort boutique, to pick out a special outfit for the occasion. Rosa had been born with a rare gift for guessing a customer’s size, taste and credit limit in the span of twenty seconds. Always attentive to details, she’d included an array of accessories, right down to a lacy blue garter.

  Charlotte felt like Cinderella. All this feminine pampering would have made her mother proud.

  Still, it seemed senseless for a pretend wedding. Okay, so the wedding was real, but the marriage was temporary.

  To satisfy the old saying, she had a blue garter, a new dress and the heirloom pearls she’d inherited after her grandmother died. Charlotte closed her eyes. Did a groom count as something borrowed?

  She just wanted to get this dog and pony show over with. Focus on the goal. If they could pull this off, in six months Edward would sign the resort over to her, Aaron would be history, and she could put this insane charade behind her.

  Charlotte blinked at her reflection. Who was this chic woman staring back? She was getting married in…She glanced at her Gucci watch and gulped. “I’m late.”

  She smoothed her white linen tea-length gown, waved Rosa and the fretting hairdresser away, and hurried across the manicured lawn.

  A lavish reception filled the Hibiscus Ballroom. Charlotte’s personal attorney had Aaron’s
signature on the prenuptial agreement and the bank had approved the loan. Her stomach cramped. The payments on a hundred thousand dollars would put a sizeable crimp in her investment portfolio.

  Palm trees swayed in the tropical breeze as Edward strolled down the sidewalk, looped his arm through hers, and whispered, “The most beautiful bride since your grandmother walked down the aisle fifty years ago. She’d be so proud. She worried that you wouldn’t take time for a family.”

  Tears sprang to Charlotte’s eyes.

  She squeezed his arm. How could she love someone so much and want to strangle him at the same time? As much as she hated his ability to manipulate her, there wasn’t a soul on earth who loved her except her grandfather. No matter how foolhardy his plan, his intentions were irreproachable.

  They moved toward a small yacht that had sailed up to the resort dock an hour ago. It sported bright aquamarine trim and flew billowing flags. A dubious-looking captain in a flashy uniform stood at the helm amidst a forest of bright tropical flowers.

  Bile rose in her throat.

  You can do this. Just one foot in front of the other. The next time her feet touched this grass, she’d be a married woman. Married to Aaron Brody. She froze.

  She hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe she could faint and save herself from this self-inflicted lunacy. Except she’d never fainted, not once in her entire life, so the chances of that feminine ploy saving her from this fiasco seemed remote.

  A resort wedding created excitement, but today’s crowd seemed unusually enthusiastic. Guests stopped to smile and applaud as she passed. Aaron’s friends and a handful of her employees waved from the deck. Strange time to realize she didn’t have any friends, only business acquaintances.

  Charlotte had always clung to the idea that if she ever did marry, it would be to a man she loved. A fat brown pelican taunted her from the corner post of the dock. So much for her one girlish fantasy. Clutching her grandfather’s arm, she took a tentative step onto the yacht. A step away from her safe world. A step toward her new life as a deceiver.

  The bridal march began. Her eyes searched out Aaron standing at the front of the boat. She let out a relieved breath. He’d actually shown up.

  It took a minute to recognize him. He looked elegant in a formal black tux. Like a gentleman—suave, calm, almost eager. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before the charming smile returned. His eyes smoldered as she walked down the short aisle.

  Aaron swallowed a lump in his throat as he watched Charlie approach. My God, she’s regal. She radiated class from her upswept hair to the tip of her white sandals. Tall and slender, back straight as a soldier, head held proud, and wearing a flimsy white dress that rustled and clung to her curves as she glided toward him.

  Tempting cleavage peeked out above the square neckline. Her arms were bare. Too bad the dress covered so much of her legs.

  A few wispy strands of dark blond hair curled down her back and at her temples. Tiny white flowers cupped one side of her face in a gentle caress. She looked beautiful. Scared to death, but beautiful.

  He crooked his arm and her grandfather placed her small hand on his forearm. Covering her slender fingers, he leaned close. “Slow and easy, Charlie.”

  Barely listening to Johnny’s words as the ceremony progressed, he tamped down an unexpected surge of panic. He was getting—he swallowed—married. Married to a sophisticated heiress.

  She had a wall full of diplomas and he hadn’t finished high school. He tugged at his constricting collar, reminding himself of the papers he’d signed today. He sure as hell hoped that lawyer of hers had been on the level when he’d explained the agreement, but Charlie would have turned gray at the altar waiting for him to muddle through all those legal terms.

  A hundred thousand dollars, Brody.

  Johnny cleared his throat and Aaron realized everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to speak. Charlie focused straight ahead, but her manicured fingernails dug into his arm.

  “I do.”

  The sound of released breaths, a few feminine sighs, and then Johnny recited some gibberish about rings being the symbol of eternity never broken.

  Aaron took the ring out of his jacket pocket and slipped it onto Charlie’s finger. “It was my mother’s.” Why had he told her that?

  She frowned at the cheap, tarnished band. Had she expected him to drop a bundle on a diamond?

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  Placing one hand at the small of her back, he slid his other around her shoulders. Her eyes were huge as they stared up at him. They were the most incredible shade of brown. Dark and rich like the first cup of morning coffee, a shade shy of black. Whether it was the apprehension in her expression or her racing heart, holding her was like holding a captive bird. He wasn’t sure if that was what turned him on, but something did. And she was his wife. For a few months, anyway.

  He blinked and diverted his attention to her full lips. Pouting lips that turned down at the corners, waiting for him to take possession. His mouth closed over hers, gentle at first. The tip of his tongue teased her glossy lips apart.

  Her body melted, becoming soft and pliant. He was amazed how small her waist was before his hands slid lower to pull her close. That frigid professional aura hid an exceptionally feminine body. Even her scent was an intoxicating fusion of self-assurance and vulnerability.

  “Mmm,” she whispered.

  That faint murmur made his brain fuzzy. He lost track of time acquainting himself with the phenomenon that was his wife. Her fingers curled around his neck and her tongue ventured out to meet his.

  Charlie’s active participation in what started out as a simple kiss caught him off guard.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Brody.”

  Aaron drew away from her mouth and took her hand. Cheers went up. Flower petals rained from the sky like a soft summer shower, blanketing the deck of the yacht in bright, fragrant color.

  He looked at Charlie and winked.

  They led their guests along the rambling sidewalk, across a narrow bridge that spanned the pool, and into the ballroom.

  Mounds of delicacies adorned white linen-covered tables. Soft jazz filtered through the air from a band hidden away in the corner.

  He put his arm around her waist as old man Harrington directed them to form a receiving line. Her expression hadn’t changed since she’d plastered on the China doll smile when Johnny pronounced them husband and wife.

  Typical of the Keys, people took their time stopping to chat and congratulate them. She fidgeted and twisted her new ring. He hadn’t expected cool, calm, in-control Charlotte Harrington to get so uptight carrying out her calculated scheme.

  He flagged down a waiter, snagged a glass of champagne, and offered it to his wife. His wife. “Take a sip. It’s hot in here.”

  “I’m not thirsty.”

  He took a drink and held the glass to her lips. “It’ll calm your wedding nerves.”

  Taking the glass, she scowled. “It is warm.”

  Aaron nodded at a passing waiter. “Could you see about cranking the air conditioner up a notch or two?”

  “Yes, sir, right away.”

  Rosa and Raul were the last to make their way through the line. Rosa kissed first the bride then Aaron’s cheek.

  Raul’s smile sparked pure devilish enjoyment as he shook Aaron’s hand and leaned close. “Your wife is muy elegante.”

  His friend was betting he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. He was careful that only Raul saw his obscene hand gesture. “Yes, she is.”

  Raul slipped his arm around Rosa, as if they’d never divorced, and strolled away. Would he and Charlie be friends after their divorce? Aaron took his bride’s hand and raised his voice. “Let’s get this party rocking.” He nodded to the band and squeezed her hand. “May I have the pleasure of the first dance, Mrs. Brody?”

  She hesitated. Would she actually turn him down?

  “Come to me, beautiful lady.”
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br />   She came into his arms stiff and unsmiling, but into his arms all the same.

  “Don’t overdo it,” she warned, before turning to grace the room with her plastic smile.

  He led her onto the empty dance floor. The lights dimmed and it only took a second to recognize the band’s mellow rendition of “Strangers in the Night.” He had to laugh at the appropriateness. Had Charlotte picked it? More than likely Johnny or Raul had put them up to it.

  Their bodies meshed from chest to knee, but her steps remained stilted. “Relax, sweetheart.”

  “Call me sweetheart one more time and I’ll go dance with Edward.”

  “He’s talking to Percy.” He considered Perry Thurman. “Not going to dance with my competition tonight, are you?”

  “He was never anyone’s competition. And besides, who I’m interested in isn’t your concern.”

  Aaron slowed the steps to a sway and placed his hand on her hip, moving her with him. Other couples joined them on the dance floor and he held Charlie close. He could act the part of the adoring groom as well as the next guy. “Trust me. You show interest in anyone except me during this marriage, I’ll make it my business. Making a fool of me wasn’t part of the bargain.”

  “Oh, and you’re going to stay celibate for the next six months?” Her eyebrows drew together and she eased out of his arms. “We should mingle with our guests.” She grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and left him alone in the center of dancing couples.

  Charlie gulped down the gold liquid as Perry moved in her direction. He touched her shoulder and without hesitation, she set her glass down and moved into the slime-bag’s arms.

  Aaron willed his fist to unclench.

  He hadn’t counted on Thurman breathing down their necks. He narrowed his eyes as Thurman’s hand snaked up Charlie’s side and his thumb rubbed the underside of her breast. Before Aaron could react, she took Don Juan’s hand and placed it back on her waist. Okay, he couldn’t very well stop her from dancing with the snake, but he didn’t have to stand here and watch.

  The last brilliant shades of sunset were fading from the sky when Aaron stepped outside. One smoke and a couple minutes to get his head straight, then he’d go back in and decide whether to deck Thurman or drag his bride out of his clutches. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the building. What had possessed him to agree to this?