The Temporary Mrs. King

by Maureen Child

  Oh, God.

  She had spent all of last night, sitting on the terrace of her hotel suite, staring out at the ocean. The trade winds ruffled through the leaves of the trees and the scent of night-blooming jasmine had wrapped itself around her and still, she couldn’t find any peace.

  And she knew why.

  Sean King was too attractive. Too…something. He got to her in a way no man had since Steven and just admitting that should have been enough to have her backing out of the deal she had struck. But she couldn’t do that. Not and win her independence.

  So here she sat, at her best friend’s kitchen table, trying to convince herself that everything would be okay. Only problem being, now that the deed was done, everything was in motion and Melinda was beginning to feel like she was strapped into a runaway roller coaster. Her grandfather was happy. Sean was…she wasn’t sure how he was feeling. And she was, anxious. But resolved.

  “I can’t believe this.” Kathy Clark, Melinda’s best friend and absolutely the only person she could talk to about this, shook her head. “You’re the one who said what your grandfather was trying to do was medieval.”

  “I know, but—”

  “And you swore that if he ever tried to marry you off again you’d join a convent.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And, you said that you couldn’t marry anyone because you’re still in love with…Steven.”

  Melinda heard the hesitation in her friend’s voice and frowned. Kathy never had liked Steven and Melinda was never sure why. But that wasn’t the point now anyway.

  Kathy frowned at her as she held a baby bottle to her son’s mouth. “So who is this mystery man and why did you agree to something you practically took a blood oath to avoid?”

  When she paused for breath, Melinda jumped into the conversation. “This is different. My grandfather didn’t arrange this, I did.”

  Her friend blinked big brown eyes and shook her head harder. “Okay, that actually makes negative sense.”

  Melinda laughed and reached down to pick up Kathy’s two-year-old daughter. Setting the tiny girl onto her lap, she brushed baby-fine hair off the child’s forehead and said, “It makes perfect sense, Kath. I’m going to marry Sean and get my trust fund and then we’ll get a quiet divorce.”

  “Just like that.”

  “Yep.” Melinda planted a kiss on top of Danielle’s head and smiled when the little girl slapped both hands together.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She looked up at the tone in Kathy’s voice and found her friend watching her through narrowed eyes. “What?”

  “Getting married, even temporarily, is a huge step. And sometimes divorces, even the ones you want, are more painful than you might think. Are you really sure you want to do this?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” she argued, keeping her voice light and singsongy to please the toddler on her lap. “There won’t be any pain in this divorce and there won’t be any hard feelings, either. We both get what we want. Me, my trust fund, and my new husband will get the land he wants. I’ve thought it all out, covered every possibility and this really is the answer.”

  “It’s a weird world when you consider marrying a complete stranger a good thing.”

  “He’s not a stranger. I researched him.”

  “Oh. Well then. My mistake,” Kathy told her and set the baby bottle aside when her son finished his lunch. Lifting the six-month-old to her shoulder she patted his back while looking at Melinda. “Instead of your grandfather selling you, you put yourself on the open market.”

  “And got a better price,” Melinda told her, grinning when her friend sighed. “Look, it’s going to be great. I’ll get married, get my trust fund and then I’ll be single again and life will go on.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Sean has already agreed to it, even the part where I told him I wouldn’t be sleeping with him.”

  “This just gets better and better,” Kathy murmured.

  “Funny, that’s just what Sean said.” Melinda straightened the tiny yellow bow on the baby’s curls.

  “Sean who? Who is this lucky groom?”

  “Hmm?” Melinda smiled down at Danielle, then looked at Kathy. “Sean King.”

  Kathy’s jaw dropped. “Sean King? The Sean King? The guy in all the magazines? The one with mega millions? The one with the black hair and blue eyes and great ass?”

  Melinda put both hands over Danielle’s ears. Laughing, she said, “Kathy!”

  “I don’t believe this.” She set her infant son into the bouncy seat beside them on the kitchen table. Instantly, Cameron started kicking, sending the little mobile of birds over his head into blind flight.

  Kathy stood up and went for more coffee. She filled both of their cups, then set the coffeepot back down onto the stove. When she took her seat again, she looked at Melinda and said, “You know I love you, but you are asking for trouble with this, honey.”

  “Kath, it’s gonna be fine.” Though looking into her friend’s worried eyes sent the tiniest spirals of anxiety unwinding through Melinda’s system.

  It was natural that Kathy would react like this. She and her husband Tom loved each other like crazy. So of course she would look at a marriage of convenience like it was a prison sentence.

  “Sean King could have any woman in the known universe,” Kathy told her. “Heck, we live on an island in the middle of nowhere and we know who he is!”

  “Well yes, but—”

  “He’s rich and gorgeous and probably arrogant, most men like him are.?…”

  “Because you’ve known so many men like Sean King,” Melinda stated.

  “I don’t have to know them to know them, you know?”

  Melinda blinked. “Sadly, I understood that.”

  Picking up her coffee cup, Kathy took a sip, then cradled the mug between her hands. “I’m just saying that you could be setting yourself up for something you’re not prepared for.”

  Danielle squirmed on Melinda’s lap, so she set the little girl down and watched her toddle off to her play stove on the other side of the room.

  Melinda and Kathy had been friends for fifteen years. Ever since Kathy’s family had moved to the island when her father took over the job as manager of the hotel. When Kathy married a man born and raised on Tesoro, Melinda had stood up for her, and she was godmother to both of their children.

  Kathy’s house was always a chaos-filled sanctuary for Melinda. So different from the quiet elegance of the hotel and the owner’s penthouse suites where she had grown up and still lived, this cottage always felt warm and welcoming. As if it were alive with the love that saturated its walls.

  There was a time when Melinda had dreamed about having a place like this—a life like this. With a husband who loved her and children to hold. But that dream died with Steven more than a year ago now and Melinda had buried it along with her fiancé. Now, what she wanted was her independence. A chance to live her life the way she wanted to, without the loving interference of a concerned grandfather.

  “I know what I’m doing, really.”

  Kathy met her stare and sighed. “I hope so.” Then shrugging, she asked, “So, when’s the wedding?”

  Melinda grinned. “Next Saturday, and you’re the matron of honor.”

  “Next Saturday?” Kathy’s jaw dropped and her eyes took on a horrified sheen. “I can’t lose ten pounds in a week!”

  Still smiling, Melinda listened as her friend talked about manicures, shopping for dresses and who she could get to watch the kids for the day.

  Worried or not, Kathy would be there for her, Melinda knew that. But as her friend’s warnings repeated over and over again in her mind, Melinda had to wonder if she was as sure about all of this as she was pretending to be.

  The next few days passed in a blink.

  Or at least it seemed that way to Sean. He didn’t see much of Melinda, but then why should he? This was nothing more than a business deal—though dressed up a lot prettier than most. And t
o keep his mind off the fact that he was about to get married, Sean spent his time exploring a bit of the island.

  He had already spent a day or two with the Stanford construction team. It was a small outfit—but they knew the island and how to build. Sean was impressed with them and knew Rafe and Lucas would be, too. Having knowledgeable, on-the-spot workers around when the project got going would come in handy. Plus, using local guys would go a long way toward making the King invasion a welcome one.

  On his own, he’d driven the circumference of the island, noting the differences in the land as he went. Some areas of Tesoro were practically barren while most of the island boasted forests and flowers and waterfalls. There was no airstrip on the island and Sean knew his brothers would want to build something for private planes. He’d spotted a clearing near the hotel that would do if they could talk Walter into it. Otherwise, as it stood now, the only way to reach the island was to fly into St. Thomas then take a boat to Tesoro. Granted, they were fast boats, but if the Kings could set up a private airstrip, that would make things even easier on the wealthy guests they planned on enticing to the hotel.

  For now though, Sean was exploring the village, where shops stood ready to welcome the tourists who made up their economy. Tesoro was one of the bigger privately held islands. About three thousand acres, with beautiful beaches, forests and more flowers than Sean could remember seeing anywhere.

  The village was so picturesque it was like taking a walk through a postcard. Every shop was neatly tended and each of them was painted a different, pastel color—blue, pink, yellow and green.

  Brightly colored flowers tumbled out of terra-cotta pots lining the sidewalk. The view from above would be like staring down at a fallen rainbow. Windows glistened in the sun and doors stood open in welcome.

  For a man used to living in crowded Southern California, this was like being in Brigadoon.

  He smiled to himself at the thought. He wouldn’t even have had that reference if not for Lucas’s wife. She had been watching the old movie one Saturday when he stopped in to beg a meal. In exchange, Rose had forced him to watch the damn thing with her.

  So, that magical village in Scotland, where everything was beautiful and everyone was happy seemed a pretty appropriate comparison.

  He could see why Walter protected this island so staunchly. Sean paused to look around, letting his gaze take in the people, the flowers, the quiet sense of tranquility—and then tried to imagine the village swarming with cruise ship tourists. He shuddered just thinking about the influx of loud voices and clacking cameras.

  No, it was better this way, he thought, enjoying the otherworldly quiet and the soft, cool breeze that eased the heat of the sun. Unlike most of the Caribbean islands, the trade winds blew almost constantly across Tesoro, keeping not only the heat—but the flying insects at bay. Which, Sean told himself with a smile, would make their future guests happy.

  He wandered along the village street, peering in shop windows, taking pictures with his smartphone and sending them via text messaging to his brothers as he went. Rafe and Lucas had both been here, of course, when they tried to make a deal with Walter. But those meetings had been over so quickly, they hadn’t been on Tesoro long enough to really look around. It was Rico who had stayed on the island several years ago and ever since had been planning his return.

  For the longest time, Sean hadn’t understood Rico’s fascination with this place. But the more time he spent there, the more Sean got it. There was just something about Tesoro that seemed to reach inside a man and untwist the knots he carried around within. Knots he hadn’t even been aware of until they dissipated.

  He shook his head at his own rambling thoughts and put it down to pre-wedding nerves. Because God knew, he had a lot more to be anxious about than most would-be grooms. After all, he wasn’t getting married for the usual reasons. No more than he had before. Been there, done that, didn’t even get the T-shirt, he thought wryly.

  A couple of laughing kids charged past him on the sidewalk, and Sean jolted, then laughed at his own idiocy. If he didn’t pay attention to what was going on around him, he could end up walking right off a cliff.

  The distant, muffled roar of a boat’s engine didn’t stand a chance against the shouts of a shopkeeper, yelling at the kids to go home. Sean smiled again. Even postcards come to life had a few problems, he supposed, which only made this place more real.

  When he spotted the jewelry store, he paused, caught by the display of rings, necklaces and bracelets in the window. There were diamonds and rubies and other gemstones, naturally. But there were also pieces with the blue-green stone Sean had seen Melinda wearing the night they’d had dinner and sealed their bargain.

  “Well,” he mused aloud, “can’t get married without a ring.”

  Fake marriage or not, it had to at least look real. He stepped through the open door and walked slowly inside, his boot heels hitting the gleaming wood floor like taps from a hammer. It wasn’t a big shop, but the display cases were filled with dazzling jewels. He was struck by the flash of color that surrounded him, all of it artfully arranged to show the pieces at their best.

  But Sean paid no attention to the ordinary offerings, instead walking directly to a case where the blue-green stones glittered behind a sheen of glass.

  An older man with gray hair and a permanent squint—probably from staring into jewelry loupes for too many years—stepped up with a smile. “You must be Sean King.”

  Sean started. “Word travels fast.”

  The man gave an eloquent shrug. “It’s a small island and the fact that you and Melinda Stanford are getting married is big news.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would be.” No paparazzi on the island, but apparently the gossips were hard at work anyway. Couldn’t really blame people for talking though. Everyone here knew Melinda. Knew the Stanfords. Of course they would be interested in a surprise wedding.

  Offering his right hand, he said, “Nice to meet you.”

  “And you, Mr. King. I’m James Noble, and this is my shop.”

  “You have some pretty things,” Sean told him and watched as pleasure lit the older man’s eyes. “And since you know about the wedding, you’ll know I’m going to need a ring.”

  An even wider smile greeted that statement. “Of course. What can I show you?”

  “Well,” Sean said, going into a squat in front of the display case. “I really like these blue-green stones. They’re…different.”

  And he already knew they looked great on Melinda. But then, he admitted silently, what wouldn’t look good on her? She was beautiful and as coolly elegant as the old hotel where she lived. She walked, and he was captivated by the sway of her hips. She smiled, and he thought about kissing her. She was…taking up way too many of his thoughts, Sean thought with a frown.

  “They certainly are,” James told him. “The Tesoro Topaz is found only on this island, and we are the only shop to carry it.”

  “Tesoro Topaz?” Sean asked, straightening up as James lifted a white velvet tray out of the case and laid it atop the glass counter.

  As Sean took a closer look, the man talked. “The stone is mined here, on the island. Apparently formed millennia ago by volcanic activity. As to why the stone is found only here, I believe it has something to do with the chemical makeup of our lovely island and how it reacted to those now long-dead volcanoes.”

  Sean looked up at the man and smiled. “Sounds like you’ve given that speech before.”

  The man relaxed a bit and returned the smile. “Often,” he agreed. “But honestly, most people only care about the stone itself, not how it was formed.”

  “The stone is pretty, but the craftsmanship of this ring is amazing,” Sean said, picking up a ring that had several of the topazes set into a gold band that was etched and detailed so beautifully, it almost looked like lace.

  “Ah, yes.” James nodded. “The artist is local, and her work is truly breathtaking. Her designs are always in demand.”

>   “I can see why,” Sean told him, and took a closer look at the ring. It was small, but then Melinda’s fingers were long and narrow. It would probably fit and if it didn’t, she could bring it back in here and the artist could size it for her. “I’ll take this one.”

  James gave him a smile and nodded. “I think Melinda will be pleased with your choice.”

  “Hope so,” Sean told him.

  “I’ll just give it a final polish and box it for you.” He was still smiling, but Sean dismissed that as a shopkeeper’s pleasure in making a sale.

  “That’d be great, thanks.” Sean pulled out his wallet and handed over his credit card. “I’ve got to say I’m a little surprised at the price though. Not that I’m complaining, but you could probably get a lot more for that kind of craftsmanship.”

  James shrugged again and took out a polishing cloth. “We’re a small island with a limited supply of customers.”

  Sean leaned both hands on the glass case and watched the man’s reaction as he asked, “How would you like it if there were more tourists coming to the island?”

  “I know about the hotel you’re planning to build, if that’s what you’re asking,” James said with a wink.

  Sean grinned. “Island gossip chain?”

  “Absolutely,” the man told him. “You’ll find that nothing stays a secret for long on Tesoro.”

  “Okay,” Sean said with a nod. “So, how do you feel about it?”

  “Cautiously optimistic,” the man said. “I’ve always agreed with Walter on his no cruise ship stance.” He shuddered a little as he said, “I don’t like the idea of Tesoro being overrun with thousands of people. But a luxury resort is something different, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. Fewer people,” Sean said. “Fewer disruptions and a lighter impact on the environment.”

  “It will still be change,” James told him, tucking the ring into a cream-colored velvet box and snapping the lid closed, “but not all change is bad.”

  “I think you’ll be pleased,” Sean told him.