Last Resort: Marriage

by Pamela Stone

  One thing that came back to him with stark clarity from the night before was how perfectly those breasts fit his hands. Her body had enough curves to keep things interesting. A couple strands of blond hair cascaded over her shoulder and between her breasts.

  Unable to resist, he rubbed the silky tresses between his thumb and forefinger and brought them to his nose. Coconut.

  He stared at her legs. Long, luscious legs. He could imagine them wrapped around his hips as he—

  Dropping the afghan across her lower body, he slogged through the foggy muck in his mind.

  He had a vague recollection of making out with her. Of her body in his arms.

  She’d seemed as turned on as he had, but then she’d bolted like some schoolgirl who’d just found herself alone with a man for the first time. Guess the heiress didn’t want to lower herself to make love with a scuba guide. He didn’t delude himself about why he was here. He was good enough to help save her business, but not to warm her bed.

  Fine. She didn’t want to have sex with him during this ridiculous marriage. He had plenty to keep him busy. His boat required major repairs. His books were a mess and he had to find somebody to print up a first-class brochure.

  But Mrs. Brody wasn’t getting off the hook that easy. They still had to fool her grandfather.

  Using the lock of hair for a feather, he trailed it around her nipple then upward until it tickled the end of her cute little nose.

  She sniffed and swatted at it as if it was a pesky fly.

  Pausing long enough for her to relax, he repeated the procedure.

  Her nose wrinkled and her hand swiped it away, coming into contact with his.

  Charlie’s eyes flew open and she turned to stare. “Ohh,” she groaned, massaging her temples. “My head.”

  “Good morning, wife.”

  She scrunched her eyes closed.

  He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t think he could stand the pain. “You know, the locals have a special cure for hangovers.”

  “They do?” She peered through squinted eyes.

  He leaned close until their lips touched. “It’s called—” he covered her mouth and kissed her until she began to actively participate in the game “—una copa rica de café! But you’ll have to make your own coffee. I have a business to run.” He pushed away and stood up, flashed her a wicked grin, and headed to the bathroom.

  CHARLOTTE STOPPED ON THE WAY to her office to put her grandmother’s pearls back in the hotel safe, dragging in after ten to find Perry Thurman looking comfortable and relaxed behind her desk.

  “What are you doing in my office?”

  He eased her lap drawer closed. “Just helping out. We assumed you’d take a few days off to…well, you know.”

  “How dare you search my desk? And don’t just assume you can use my office.” She raised her eyebrows in a haughty look she’d learned from her grandfather.

  “Whatever you say, boss.” Perry stood and shoved a legal-sized sheet of paper in her direction. “But at some point we need to discuss this.”

  Oh, God! Had he found her copy of the prenuptial?

  She rubbed the back of her neck, stepped closer, and glanced at the paper. It wasn’t the prenup. Feeling her heart start to beat again, she narrowed her eyes at Perry. “What is it?”

  “You pay your front desk staff ten percent more than market. Could be why this resort isn’t turning the profit it should.”

  Every word out of his mouth infuriated her. She called on her depleting reserve of calm professionalism. “Don’t question my management decisions.”

  Perry remained behind her desk, wearing an innocent smile.

  She moved into position on the other side of her chair and crossed her arms.

  He didn’t budge. “Charlotte, please tell me you didn’t marry Brody just to hang on to the resort. I feel responsible. If I hadn’t hurt you so badly before, maybe you wouldn’t have rushed into this marriage so quickly.”

  Swallowing her disgust, she stared him straight in the eyes. “I didn’t rush into anything. I’ve been in love with Aaron for three years,” she lied.

  “You’ve been having an affair with this guy that long and never mentioned him to Edward?” He laughed. “What can someone of your upbringing have in common with a guy like him?”

  “You couldn’t possibly understand.” Being rejected by a woman he didn’t want for a man he considered rungs beneath him had to be a blow to Perry’s sizable ego. She walked around the desk, opened the door, and gestured him out. “Anything else?”

  He swallowed, shook his head, and left her in blissful silence.

  She shut the door behind him and leaned against it to regain her composure. Six months of this?

  Perry was a poor loser. And as shrewd as he was unscrupulous. He might fool everyone else with this caring pretense, but not her. He had something up his sleeve and whatever it was, it had more to do with his quest for power than his heart.

  She buzzed Zelda and asked her to bring in coffee. Although, the way her head pounded, she wasn’t sure coffee was going to be enough today.

  Remembering Aaron’s “cure” of black coffee, she nearly choked. He’d seemed completely at ease with his nudity this morning. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine herself traipsing around her bungalow in the buff. Not in this lifetime.

  Blinking Aaron out of her mind, she grabbed her purse and rummaged for her bottle of aspirin. Finally, she gave up and dumped the contents on the desk. What was that? A check made out to Aaron from her grandfather in the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars. On the notation line it simply said, Best Wishes.

  She folded the check and stashed it in her wallet to deal with another day. Aaron had every legal right to cash it, but he’d left it in her purse?

  Popping the top off the bottle, she shook two tablets into her hand and laid them aside, waiting on the coffee.

  What had Perry really been doing in her office? If he got wind of the prenuptial or the loan she’d taken out, the game was over.

  She shuffled through her lap drawer, and then flipped through the caddy where Zelda left the mail.

  “Maybe I lucked out this time.” When the documents arrived, she’d store them in her safe deposit box and have all the locks changed on the office. She drummed her fingers on the desk. The snake had already charmed the keys out of either Edward or Zelda.

  The savory aroma of steaming coffee followed Zelda into the office. Bless the girl’s efficiency.

  “Have a seat, Zelda.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Zelda tugged at her miniskirt and wiggled into the wing chair.

  Charlotte noted her tight blouse and lime green skirt and made a note to discuss proper office attire—tomorrow.

  Zelda had only been in the position two weeks. She had to be better than the last girl who quit to stay home with her baby. Baby or not, how could a woman trust a man enough to be solely dependent on him? Charlotte would never give any man that much control.

  “You’re aware that Mr. Thurman is the new assistant manager?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. Everybody knows. He’s very nice.”

  Nice my ass. The man was just waiting for a chance to vault to the top of the Harrington empire. “Did you give Mr. Thurman the keys to my office?” she asked, trying not to sound accusing.

  Zelda fidgeted. “No, ma’am. Mr. Thurman said you’d be out for a few days. I unlocked the door. I didn’t give him the key.”

  Leaning forward, Charlotte took a deep breath and tried to squelch her anger. “I count on your unquestionable loyalty. Whatever information you learn in this position is to be kept confidential.”

  The girl continued to nod, tears swamping her big brown eyes. “Absolutely, Ms. Harrington. Uh, I mean Mrs. Brody.”

  “Why don’t you call me Charlotte?” She couldn’t stomach being called Mrs. Brody just yet.

  “Okay, Charlotte.” She twisted a lock of spiked hair at her temple. “I just thought. I mean with him being assistant manager. It wo
n’t happen again, I swear.”

  Diplomacy was not Charlotte’s strong suit, but she tried to instill a sense of teamwork. The last thing she needed was Zelda spreading the rumor that the manager didn’t trust the assistant manager. “It’s okay, but don’t let anyone into this office again without my permission. And, Zelda, do you need a copy of the dress code?”

  Zelda’s scolded puppy expression made Charlotte feel like a tyrant. When everything settled down, she’d take another one of those online classes and brush up on her people skills. But with Perry and Edward looking over her shoulder and this ridiculous marriage to contend with, it would have to wait.

  She had no more than hung up from calling a locksmith when Aaron burst in. “Did you know your secretary’s crying?” He pointed a thumb toward the door.

  She couldn’t answer for a moment as she pictured him the last time she’d seen him, wearing nothing but his naked glory. She shuffled the papers on her desk. “You obviously had a purpose for barging in here other than to worry over my secretary.”

  “Yeah. Where the hell’s my money?”

  She rubbed her temples. Did his head ache as bad as hers? “What are you talking about?”

  He braced his hands on her desk. “I ordered a new engine for the boat and they won’t ship until it’s paid in full.” His eyes pierced hers. “But the bank says there aren’t enough funds in my account.”

  She picked up the phone and tried not to let his demanding tone get under her skin. “They’re probably holding the check for twenty-four hours because of the large sum.”

  While she listened to the bank representative, her gaze followed Aaron’s tight butt as he paced back and forth across the room.

  “Thank you.” She hung up and tried not to sound patronizing. “The funds will be available tomorrow morning.”

  He didn’t even say thank you. “Time’s money. You, of all people, should understand that. Every day I’m off the water is costing me,” he tossed over his shoulder as he opened the door.

  Perry was standing at Zelda’s desk.

  Charlotte breathed in. Her plan didn’t have a chance if she and her husband didn’t at least try to get along. “Aaron, what would you like to do for dinner tonight?”

  He turned and narrowed his eyes, his voice oozing with sarcasm. “I don’t know, Charlie. What did you have in mind?”

  After last night, she didn’t want to spend the evening alone in the bungalow. Too much temptation. “Let’s try that new restaurant on Big Pine Key. Check out the competition.”

  She pulled out the brochure and dialed the number for reservations.

  He stepped back in and closed the door. Without a glance at the brochure, he strolled over and broke the phone connection. He lowered his voice. “I think it’d be more convincing if we stayed home tonight. Give us a chance to devise a game plan.”

  Good point. They needed to look like happy newlyweds. After all, they’d only been married one day. “Okay, I’ll call and have dinner delivered.”

  Aaron turned on his heel and left without another word. She watched him pause at Zelda’s desk. Even he wouldn’t flirt with his wife’s secretary, would he? She closed the door and growled in frustration. Controlling her resort with Perry lurking about paled in comparison to trying to control her new husband.

  Chapter Five

  Charlotte walked into her bungalow and stopped short at the sight of Aaron parked in front of the television. He held a beer bottle in one hand and the TV remote in the other. His bare feet were propped on her glass coffee table and he appeared immersed in a local show about the reef.

  “Why don’t you get comfortable?” He took a swig of beer. “Thought we’d eat on the patio.”

  The man was invading her life. Yet, outside was less intimate than in. “Fine.”

  While Charlotte changed clothes, she heard the waiter arrive with the meal. She followed the aroma of dinner through the kitchen and out the back door. Funny, she’d lived here five years and could count on one hand the number of times she’d eaten out on the patio.

  The sun was setting and the breeze had lost the afternoon heat. She sat across from Aaron and watched as he lit candles. The sun streaks in his brown hair weren’t as pronounced since he’d had it cut for the wedding. It had a slight curl from the humidity, adding a rakish flair.

  “I hope you like smoked salmon. I wasn’t sure what to order,” she said, making an attempt at small talk.

  He filled her wineglass. “I’ll pretty much eat anything that doesn’t eat me first.”

  Charlotte took a sip. “Where did you grow up?” She really knew nothing about the man she’d married.

  “Miami.”

  She waited until the silence became awkward, hoping he might elaborate. Obviously, he wasn’t in a talkative mood. “Do you have family?”

  “My mom died when I was sixteen.”

  Charlotte fingered the inexpensive gold band he’d placed on her hand the night before. “This was her wedding ring?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m touched that you’d let me wear it. I’ll make sure you get it back after the—” She left the sentence unfinished, uncomfortable mentioning divorce when they’d been married only twenty-four hours.

  “She never married. Bought it in a pawnshop to keep the lowlifes at bay while she cleaned hotel rooms.”

  “Never married?”

  His green eyes penetrated hers, challenging her to disapprove. “Nope.”

  “I guess money was tight,” she offered, not sure what else to say.

  “We got by.” He forked a bite of shrimp cocktail.

  “Have you ever been married?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Where was all that charm the women of Marathon Key raved about? Guess they weren’t referring to his social skills, but more to his…“Engaged?”

  “Once. She dumped me.” Aaron topped off their wine and focused on his dinner, effectively ending the conversation.

  Before she had time to finish half her salmon, he pushed his empty plate back and lit a cigarette.

  “I cannot understand why anybody would contaminate their body with that filthy habit.”

  Aaron took a puff. “Enjoyment. You do know the definition of the word?”

  She reached across the table and eased the cigarette from between his lips. “I don’t enjoy smelling secondhand smoke.” She ground the cigarette out. “Consideration for others. You do know the definition of that, don’t you?”

  His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t light another cigarette. “Well geez, Charlie, it’s eight-thirty. You’ve eliminated smoking and sex from the agenda. What do we do now?”

  Looking for any excuse to keep them out of the bungalow, she stood. “How about a walk on the beach? We’re supposed to be seen together, looking blissful and in love.”

  “Fill me in on the script,” he said, falling in step beside her as she headed toward the lapping surf.

  The moon floated just above the horizon, casting a silvery ribbon across the water. “We should make sure Perry sees us together at least once a day. Edward, too, as long as he’s on the island,” she explained. “When he feels comfortable, he’ll return to Boston.”

  Aaron kicked at the edge of the surf and picked up a small piece of driftwood. “First we have to convince him that we’re in love. Wouldn’t hurt if you kissed me occasionally. Hey, I wouldn’t even mind if you pinched my ass.”

  “I’m trembling in anticipation.” She blocked out the temptation. “And it’s always so pleasant to kiss cigarette breath.”

  Undaunted, he slipped his arm around her waist and patted her bottom. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Her body tensed.

  He leaned in closer. “You’re going to have to quit flinching every time I touch you.”

  “I’ll try. But lose the act. Nobody’s watching.”

  His arm dropped to his side. “No problem, sweetheart.”

  Why did she feel like he’d dashed ice water in her face?
Even though she’d rebuffed him, she’d thought…hoped? Get over it, Charlotte. She’d learned years ago that men didn’t get hot over flat-chested, brainy women.

  “I’m sorry about your mom. She must have been awfully young.”

  “Thirty-two. We sort of raised each other.” Aaron flung the driftwood boomerang-style back into the rolling waves. “It was a long time ago and she was sick and not too thrilled with life, anyway.”

  “She was only thirty-two and didn’t want to live?” Charlotte couldn’t comprehend not fighting for life, especially with the responsibility of a son to care for.

  His jaw set and he stared directly into her eyes. “Well, princess, not all of us are born with a silver spoon. Sometimes life just plain stinks.”

  “What did she die of?”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”

  Her blood boiled, but before she could respond, he pulled her into his arms and his lips began a tender caress down her neck and shoulder. Both hands cupped her bottom pressing her close.

  She reached behind her and grabbed his hands. “What are you doing?”

  “Thurman’s coming down the beach.” He clasped both her wrists in his hands and locked her against him. His lips scorched a path up her neck, the underside of her chin, the corner of her mouth, then covered her lips in a kiss that was anything but ambivalent.

  His tongue rushed to mate with hers, darting in and out, enticing hers to participate in the sensuous ritual. Charlotte reluctantly joined in the game, acting her role of the enamored wife.

  Aaron’s callused hands roved beneath her blouse.

  Her body grew warm and moist. She forgot this was all for show and reveled in the sensuous movement of his lips. Leaning her head back, she ground her hips into his. The waves lapped against the shore, the sound hypnotic as it lulled her senses. His kiss seemed to be in pace with the tide, ebbing and flowing with an age-old rhythm.