Last Resort: Marriage

by Pamela Stone

  “You know, that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh. You should do it more.” He returned her hug and offered a smile. “He’s giving you grief about other things besides your poor taste in husbands?”

  “Oh, he’s putting on an Emmy-winning show of support, but he’s trying to undermine every aspect of my job.”

  Placing her hands on his T-shirt-covered biceps, she eased off the table and buttoned her blouse. “We’d better get out of here before a guest wanders in.”

  She deposited the tray of dishes in the kitchen while Aaron wiped off the table and blew out the candle. She linked her fingers through his as they walked into the lobby, wondering if tonight might…

  “Mrs. Brody, this gentleman needs to speak with a manager,” the front desk clerk stuttered, nodding uncomfortably toward a uniformed officer standing at the end of the counter.

  Charlotte snapped into work mode. “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”

  “I have a warrant for one of your guests. He got himself into a fight at the Boar’s Head.”

  She closed her eyes, seeing her romantic evening going down the tube. Damn! “Aaron, you might as well go on home.”

  “Give me a call and I’ll come walk you to the bungalow.”

  She noted the resignation on his face. There was more to him than sex appeal. The man had a sweet side, hidden beneath that macho exterior. Every moment she spent with him, she fell deeper under his spell. “Who knows how long this will take. I’ll be fine.”

  THE NEXT DAY CHARLOTTE FOUND herself in the hotel from hell. The morning shift manager called in sick. Perry was nowhere in sight and Zelda wasn’t at her desk, leaving Charlotte to deal with one catastrophe after the next. Zelda was never at her desk lately and the only time she could count on Perry being there was to see her screw up and offer a suggestion on how she should have handled things better.

  Before she realized she’d missed lunch, it was already afternoon. Aaron poked his head in, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “Ready?”

  The boat launching. God, she’d forgotten. Charlotte looked around desperately. She wanted to go. And she hated to disappoint Aaron. But there was nobody to leave in charge.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Would you be too upset if I didn’t make it?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Everyone expects to see my wife there. This little play works both ways.”

  “Your friends will be there. It’s not that big of a deal if I don’t show up.”

  His eyes narrowed and his tone sounded clipped. “Of course not. It’s not your business.”

  Before she could respond, the chef barged through the door ranting in French. All she could decipher was the word potato. Aaron glared at them, turned on his heel, and left, almost running Zelda down in the doorway. Zelda looked pleased about something and Aaron’s obvious temper caused her smug grin to widen.

  “Where have you been for the last two hours?” Charlotte barked.

  Zelda retreated, dropped into her chair, and shuffled a couple papers around her desk. “I took a long lunch. You weren’t here, so I figured it’d be okay.”

  “You know what the hours are. Unless you get prior approval you will be in that seat, working. Got that?”

  The girl picked up a nail file and scraped it across one of her long orange fingernails. “Got it, boss.”

  Staring at her secretary’s tight, low-cut blouse, microskirt, and short spikes of hair that today had a weird purple tint, Charlotte decided she needed a more forceful approach. “Tomorrow, I expect you on time and dressed appropriately. That means a skirt that covers your butt and no exposed cleavage. I don’t intend to have this conversation again.”

  Continuing to grate the rough file across her nail, Zelda crossed her bare legs and blew dust off her nail. “Sure thing.”

  Charlotte bit her tongue. The snippy woman at the employment agency would laugh her off the island if she fired the girl and asked her to send someone else. Four assistants in three months was excessive even for Charlotte. She couldn’t handle the added stress of training someone new right now. At least Zelda knew the software and was capable of structuring a proper sentence. Plus, she already knew how Charlotte liked her coffee.

  She couldn’t stand another minute. Grabbing her purse, Charlotte escorted the chef out and locked her door, meeting Perry in the outer office. She hated to leave him alone to accuse her of shirking her duties, but the look on Aaron’s face stung. “See what you can do for Pierre,” she instructed, nodding toward the chef. “Then contact the cleaning service and make sure the rooms are ready, even if you have to take off your coat and scrub toilets.”

  She handed Zelda a To Do list. “I’m going to the launching of my husband’s boat. You will stay at your desk and answer the phone. Shouldn’t be a problem since you’ve already taken your afternoon break.”

  THE CELEBRATION HAD JUST gotten underway when Aaron looked up and saw Charlie come on deck. Judging by her scowl, she was looking for a fight. Most likely with him, but it was her choice to be married to her job. She tugged her rose-pink jacket away from her skin, raised her eyebrows, and gaped as two girls strolled past wearing thong bikinis.

  Listening to Charlie’s high heels clicking across the wood deck in sharp contrast to everyone else’s sneakers or flip-flops, he knew he’d made the right decision. Today was the day Charlie was going to loosen up. She’d be pissed, but life was too short to be so uptight.

  He snagged a plastic cup of wine off the counter and made his way through the crowd to Charlie. “Give me your jacket.”

  “The boat looks fantastic.” She slipped out of the jacket and handed it to him, taking the glass with her other hand.

  “Brody’s Charters is back on the water.” He removed his new royal-blue cap and placed it on her head. He hated to cover up the beautiful blond highlights, but she needed to feel like part of the festivities. Taking her arm, he led her under the shade, grabbing another cap off the counter, and pulling it on. “Hungry? There might be some shrimp left.”

  She glanced at the buffet. “That fruit looks good.”

  He filled a plate with strawberries, cantaloupe, mango and blackberries. “Relax. Enjoy.”

  Raul handed Aaron a cold bottle of water and winked. “We’re on?” He was the only one Aaron had let in on the plan.

  “We’re on.” Watching Charlotte sweat, Aaron wished he could rush this shindig along. His friends never missed an opportunity to party, especially if someone else footed the bill. Still, it was eighty-five degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Not even a breeze to cool things down. Charlie fanned her face with the cap.

  Someone changed the CD and Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca” sizzled through the speakers. Rosa came down off the flybridge and danced Raul onto the center of the deck. The rest of the crowd didn’t waste time joining them and Aaron wondered if he’d be able to get rid of everyone before tomorrow.

  He nodded at Charlie. “Come on. Take your shoes off.”

  Kicking her shoes under the bench, she took his hand. “I’ve never been to a boat launching before. Do people always wear this few clothes?”

  “Wait till they let their hair down.” He twirled her onto the makeshift dance floor.

  As they danced, she swiped her sticky forehead with the back of her hand. Little tendrils of sweat-drenched hair clung to her neck and forehead. Her white silk blouse was sleeveless, but Aaron could only imagine how sticky and uncomfortable those stockings must be.

  He started to suggest she go below and change, but that would give away his plan.

  By the end of the dance, Charlotte’s French twist had wilted and her mascara smudged. He had to do something before she passed out. The sun beating down on the deck made it unbearable. Leading her to the only available seat under the canopy, he handed her another cold glass of wine.

  He’d been planning this party for two weeks, but now it couldn’t be over quick enough. These people had to get off his boat. As miserable as Ch
arlie looked, she’d be heading for home and a shower any second. She might be accustomed to working her ass off, but she did it in air-conditioning.

  Placing two fingers in his mouth, he whistled and nodded to Raul. “I appreciate all you guys turning out. It means a hell of a lot that you took your time to help launch the Free Wind.” He picked up a stack of assorted white and royal-blue T-shirts and placed them on the counter. “Take a shirt. Hey, if it wears out, come back and get another one.”

  Charlie narrowed her eyes, but everyone else was already reaching for a shirt. “The first round of drinks at the Gecko’s on me. It’s too hot to stay on this tub in port.”

  “Let’s take her out and see how she runs,” Rosa suggested.

  Shaking his head, Aaron pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. “I intend to, but it’s a private party.”

  Catching on, she glanced at Charlie, kissed Aaron’s cheek, and winked. “See you tomorrow.”

  He shook a few hands and watched his friends shuffle across the gangplank. But when Charlie stood to leave, he grabbed her hand. “I know it’s hot, but hang on. Let me give you a tour.”

  She smiled. “You’ve never told me much about the boat.”

  “What do you want to know? She’s about thirty years old. Forty-four feet. Rock solid. Teak wood trim. New turbo-diesel.”

  Leading her to the controls, he started the engine. “Listen to that. Isn’t that the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard?”

  Raul escorted the last guests off the boat, pitched the lines, and waved. Aaron eased the throttle forward, praying Charlie hadn’t noticed. If he could pull far enough away from the dock, there wouldn’t be anything she could do. “You haven’t commented. What do you think?”

  Grabbing the dash, her eyes widened. “It’s moving.”

  He concentrated on maneuvering away from the dock and out of the marina. “Yeah, it is.”

  “But I have to work.” Her knuckles turned white. “Aaron, take me back.”

  “Make Perry earn his keep. How much can the conniving jerk screw up in a few hours?”

  She frowned and took her phone out of her purse.

  He steered the boat to the right to avoid a sailboat of lobster-red tourists. “Put it away or I’ll toss it overboard.”

  She ignored his threat and punched in a number. Before she could press the call button, Aaron swiped the phone out of her hand. “Relax, Charlie. I’ve got to pay attention here. Why don’t you go below and put on something cooler?”

  “I don’t have anything cooler. I didn’t realize I was going on a cruise.” She grabbed her phone and shoved it into her purse.

  “Look down in the cuddy.”

  “The what?” she snapped and clenched her jaw.

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Cabin, sweetheart. Go below and change. You look a little steamed.”

  She narrowed her eyes at the retreating shoreline. “I’m not amused. Take me back, Aaron.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen, Charlie.”

  Charlotte went down the stairs, thinking of every disgusting name she could call him.

  Kidnapping. That’s what this was. She didn’t think it was possible to be any angrier until she saw her clothes. Her black swimsuit, yellow shorts and striped T-shirt, that stupid sundress with the buttons, and a couple pairs of underwear spread across his bed in an artful array of color. He’d raided her underwear drawer! Was nothing sacred to this man?

  The floor vibrated beneath her feet. Open water! She stood paralyzed, trying not to think about the rolling waves and unknown creatures lurking below. She fought for composure. She would not humiliate herself and let Aaron see her terror.

  Chapter Nine

  Charlotte peeled off her sticky clothes and dropped them in a heap on the floor. Sweat saturated her bra and panties. The suit was ruined. She tugged on clean underwear and the shorts, then pulled the knit shirt over her head. Aaron hadn’t bothered to bring her a dry bra. Probably figured with her flat chest, why bother?

  What was he up to with this little escapade? She hated surprises. Even as a child, she’d liked things planned out.

  Climbing back on deck, she grasped the rail and tried to squelch her nausea as the boat lurched over a wave. She had to convince Aaron to take her home. The salty wind whipped at her hair and she struggled to hold the tangled tendrils out of her face. The boat skimmed across the water and the shoreline faded into the aqua water. “I’m not amused by this.”

  “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who habitually resisted fun.” He looked her up and down, his eyes smoldering. “At least you look more comfortable.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Private beach.”

  She grabbed the rail and avoided looking down at the spray. “There’s a beach at the resort.”

  “Not like this one. We’re going to have fun.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone I was taking the rest of the day off. At the very least I should let Perry know I won’t be back for a while.”

  He shrugged. “He’s an educated man. He’ll figure it out.”

  She sat down on one of the cushioned benches and gripped the shiny brass rail so tight her knuckles hurt. If she didn’t think about the deep water beneath, maybe she’d get through this without making a fool of herself. She checked her watch. “How far are we going?”

  “Relax. Chill.”

  Chill? She blew off steam and tried not to explode. Instead she closed her eyes and concentrated on slow, easy breaths. Obviously Aaron wasn’t going to give in and take her back.

  It seemed like an eternity before he cut the engine and dropped anchor. A white sandy beach shaded by tall palms outlined the tranquil cove. Leaning down, Aaron gave her a quick kiss and started putting the leftover party food away.

  Charlotte released her grip on the rail and sucked air into her lungs. She tried to ignore the boat rocking, stood, and snapped the plastic lid on the bowl of fruit. “So how long did it take to mastermind this?”

  He closed one mischievous green eye and pretended to think. “I decided last night when we almost made love in the restaurant.”

  “Is that what’s on the agenda?” Her heart thudded.

  “Maybe. If the mood strikes me.”

  “If the mood strikes you? I don’t have a say in this?”

  He grinned. “If it strikes me, I’ll make sure it strikes you.”

  “You’re fooling, right? You couldn’t possibly be this arrogant.”

  Chuckling, he closed the refrigerator, yanked his T-shirt over his head, and unzipped his shorts.

  She was relieved to see he wore a navy-blue boxer swimsuit. “Look, I’m sweltering, tired, and in no mood to sit out here and bake, no matter how beautiful the scenery.” She blinked her eyes and diverted her gaze from his tanned chest.

  Grabbing a bottle of water off the table, he took a swig and put it in the fridge. “Planning to swim in your shorts?”

  “I’m not swimming.”

  He leaned forward and began a slow seduction of her mouth. No pressure or force, just simple, smoldering, mouth-to-mouth massage therapy. Stepping back, he selected a perfect purple orchid out of a wilting flower arrangement from the party. “There’s nobody watching this time. Let’s just relax and enjoy the day. What do you say?”

  Accepting the flower, she allowed the seductive pull of his deep voice to melt the last of her irritation. How could she want to throttle him one second and melt at his touch the next?

  Tension dissolved as he removed her confining hair clip and his fingertips probed and massaged her scalp and neck.

  She still held the orchid as he backed away and tugged the bottom of her shirt up and over her head. He took the flower long enough to pull her hand out of the sleeve, then brushed the flower lightly over her breasts, causing her nipples to harden. She shivered at being exposed in broad daylight.

  Kicking a mat out from under one of the benches, he rolled it out on the wood deck. “L
ie down.”

  That simmering desire in his eyes made her feel so sexy. So feminine. She no longer wanted to go back. As long as the boat wasn’t moving, she wasn’t afraid. Of all the places she could be right now, the Free Wind in this deserted cove ranked at the top of the list. Pretend or not, somehow she, Charlotte Harrington, had married the sexiest man in South Florida.

  Stretching out on her stomach, she gave herself up to his magic hands. His palms pressed and prodded her tight muscles as he rubbed circles of cool coconut lotion into her skin. Arms—neck—shoulders—back. She listened to the gulls squawking overhead as he slipped her shorts off.

  If his scuba business sunk, he had another marketable skill. The bottom of her feet—calves—knees—thighs. She heard his swimsuit drop to the deck. She was in tune to the squeak of the lotion bottle as he squirted more into his hands before she felt the silken touch on her buttocks. The warm moisture between her legs had nothing to do with the lotion or the humid heat and everything to do with Aaron Brody’s strong legs straddling hers, intimately pressing against her thighs.

  As his hands worked their way beneath her to stimulate and fondle, she raised her hips, craving his touch. His aroused body touched her hip and she bit her lip to keep from begging. She wanted him inside her, but he teased and took his sweet time. He rolled her over and continued to play the part of seductive masseur. Breasts—tummy—

  Closing her eyes, she welcomed the brunt of his weight. “Mmm,” she sighed, as he slid inside her. There was one part of his anatomy that wielded even more magic than his hands. Her hips moved in unison with his. She reveled in the sensation of having his body both inside and wrapped around her. Hot, licking flames ignited every inch of her. She groaned when he pulled away for protection, but was eager to welcome him back. She didn’t remember sex being like this.

  There was power in each thrust of his hips. He consumed her with the sheer ecstasy of making love for the pure, erotic enjoyment of the act. No games, no thought, just sweaty skin against sweaty skin. She could taste salt in his kiss as their bodies melded together in the quest for bliss.