by Tina Martin
His Paradise Wife
By Tina Martin
Copyright 2014 @ Tina Martin
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, photocopying and recording, without prior written consent of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses and products are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events is entirely coincidental.
Also by Tina Martin
Accidental Deception, The Accidental Series, Book 1
Accidental Heartbreak, The Accidental Series, Book 2
Accidental Lovers, The Accidental Series, Book 3
What Donovan Wants, The Accidental Series, Book 4
Dying To Love Her
Dying To Love Her 2
The Millionaire’s Arranged Marriage (The Alexanders, Book 1)
Watch Me Take Your Girl (The Alexanders, Book 2)
Her Premarital Ex (The Alexanders, Book 3)
Secrets On Lake Drive
Can’t Just Be His Friend
The Baby Daddy Interviews
Just Like New to the Next Man
Vacation Interrupted
The Crush
For more information about the author and upcoming releases, visit her website at www.tinamartin.net.
His Paradise Wife
Prologue
Dante Champion sure was fine...
Emily could admit that very easily to herself, but she’d never do such a thing to anyone else, especially not to her best friend, Melanie. When she thought of Dante, the tall, sexy, muscular being that bled testosterone through his pores and wore confidence like his thousand dollar suits, she always remembered this – the last time she saw him. It was a few weeks back, but she could recall the event like it had happened yesterday. Dante was just one of those distinguished, rarefied men that a person never forgets. That a woman never forgets.
He’d been walking along the sidewalk by her little boutique on Battery Park Avenue with enough swag to melt ice. It had snowed that week, the last week in April, and the temperature was leveling out at around thirty-five degrees. Emily had been sitting behind the counter, on a barstool sipping on a cup of hot cocoa. Her assistant and friend, Sherita, had stayed home that day since the roads in her neighborhood hadn’t been plowed. There was no way she could drive in such treacherous conditions. Therefore, Emily had to perform all the operations of the boutique – including working the register, hanging new items and pricing them. Additionally she had to do closing work that entailed sweeping the floors, wiping down the counter and closing out the cash drawer.
At any rate, Emily couldn’t believe it was actually him, Dante Champion, strolling by her store. In the town of Asheville, North Carolina, that was the equivalent to President Obama walking down the road without his security detail. It was just unheard of.
Dante’s ten-story office building, the building that he himself owned, was five blocks away. Five blocks. He couldn’t be walking to work could he, when he could’ve easily summoned a taxi or better yet, called his personal driver to swing by in the limo, black Escalade or the Maserati, and pick him up? Stranger things have happened, Emily thought to herself. Maybe the man just felt like walking.
Fast forward to six o’clock in the evening...
Emily was bored out of her mind. The store had been slow, so slow that she could count the number of customers she had all day on one hand. She’d yawned and stretched enough times to make the Guinness Book of World Records and she caught herself nodding off several times.
“Ugh...is it time to go home yet,” she drawled out. Even though it was her store and she could leave any time she wanted, she always made sure to remain open during the regular operating hours that were posted on the door. It was good business practice, one of the pointers that Melvin had given her. He stressed the importance of consistency to maintain validity as a small business owner. He always used to tell her that small business owners were actually big business owners who were just starting out. She believed that and she believed in him.
She sighed, rubbed her eyes until she heard the small bell ringing at the top of the boutique door entrance, alerting her that she had a customer. With tired eyes, she looked up and there stood one of the most sought after men on the Eastern seaboard – Dante Champion – standing six feet tall, dressed in a black business suit covered by an unbuttoned black peacoat with the collars flipped up, enhancing his broad shoulders while drawing attention to his handsome face. Black, leather gloves covered his manly hands and a skull cap fit perfectly on his head.
Emily instantly felt a nervous twinge run through her like a jolt of uncontrolled electricity, but of course she couldn’t let Dante see her sweat. He was probably accustomed to the attention he received from women. She imagined that he would feast off of the way women reacted in his presence – women who would instantly become flushed, nervous and nearly drool at the very sight of him. Women who deemed it an honor just to be close to him. In the same room as him.
Nope. Not her. No way. There was no way she would get caught up under his spell. So she pretended as if his creamy, Werther’s Original caramel candy complexion, the result of his African-American, French and Irish heritages, had no effect on her when the truth of the matter was, her mouth was watering uncontrollably for something sweet this very second.
She nervously cleared her throat, swallowed hard then took a sip of cocoa to satisfy her craving for sugar. She quickly glanced up at Dante walking closer to the counter where she was sitting, then she looked away. She wanted to look up at him once more since he was walking so slowly. Then again, she didn’t want to. Honestly speaking, he was too beautiful to look at and too beautiful to ignore, sort of like staring directly at the sun. Sure, it was a beautiful creation, but one could cause damage to their sight by just gazing upon it.
Dante knew full well the power he had with his handsome appearance. He and his brothers had inherited a bunch of good genes from their parents. Their good looks and features were unique enough to make people ask about their heritage and stare longingly into their hazel eyes.
Emily, however, maintained her stance on not getting caught in a trance with him. She was tempted to lose herself in his eyes, but she pretended to be otherwise engaged on her laptop instead of being hypnotized by his appeal. There was no need to entertain the thought of being with a Champion man. They were well-known in Asheville for being notorious womanizers and since they were extremely good-looking, successful and had loads of money, women fell at their feet and into their beds as easily as their millions fell into their bank accounts.
Finally, after reaching the counter, Dante greeted her with a simple hello. She spoke to him as well and afterwards, he boldly asked her out to lunch. Meeting his gaze so he could know she meant what she said, Emily declined with a resolute ‘no’. When she did, she could see the smirk on Dante’s face. He didn’t appear defeated when she turned him down, nor did he seem fazed. His look was one of determination, which was something Emily couldn’t understand. Why was he so determined to go on a date with her when he could have any woman he wanted? Then it dawned on her. Maybe he’d already had every woman he wanted and she was next woman on his to-do list. If that’s what he was thinking, then he was in for a rude awakening because Emily Mitchell was one item on his list that wouldn’t get checked off.
Chapter 1
Emily stood up, walked over to the display window and stared out into the street. It was a quiet, boring Monday, and the sidewalks were desolate on the cold, overcast day. Everything appeared gray and dreary and the lack of sun did nothing to improve her mood. To add to the lacklust
er workday, it was snowing again.
Emily shook her head. She loved snow, but not late April snow and as she pondered the thought, she watched a few light flurries fall from the sky, settling softly upon the three inches that fell overnight. The only shops that had opened on the same strip as her boutique was the coffee shop next door and the Caribbean restaurant on the corner. The other businesses, an antique thrift shop, a book store and pharmacy had remained closed.
Irritated with the sound of her own thoughts, Emily took her cell from the coat pocket of her royal blue blazer and dialed her friend Melanie. Melanie was a manager at one of the hotels downtown. Emily was sure to get some sort of entertainment from her. Melanie, no matter what was going on, always seemed to be in a good disposition. She was one of those girlfriends every woman needed – someone to lighten the mood when things were tense, someone who knew how to party when it was time to let loose and someone who had your back when no one else did.
“Guest services. Melanie speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hey, Mel.”
“Ooh, girl...I was just about to call you.”
Emily grinned, tapping her French-manicured nails against the glass countertop. “And why were you about to call me?”
“Because your man has been all up and through this hotel today, girl. Let me repeat...all up and through...you hear me?”
“My man?” Emily questioned.
“Yes, girlfriend. Yo’ man.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “I don’t know who you’re referring to, but need I remind you that I don’t have a man.”
Melanie smirked. “Try telling him that.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. Who are you talking about?”
Melanie held the receiver away from her ear, looked at it like she was confused and asked, “Who am I talking about? Em, don’t play with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
“No, I do not,” she replied again, though she had a suspicion that Melanie was referring to Dante. Melanie had been a fan of his, pushing Emily to accept a date with him a couple of times before, talking the guy up like he was the next best thing since fried chicken and Texas Pete hot sauce.
“I’m talking about Dante Cham-pi-on,” she said, breaking his last name down by syllables for emphasis. “Remember him? The man who’s been after you like a blood hound?”
“Sure I remember him, but I’m not interested,” Emily responded.
“Em—”
“Not interested, Mel. And why has he been all up and through there as you put it? Bringing different women in and out...one after another, I imagine.”
“No, not at all. He’s attending a small business summit that his company sponsored. He’s one of the expert panelists, along with other notable businessmen and women in the area. By the way, have you ever heard him speak in a professional setting?”
“No,” Emily said, frustrated, ready to hang up the phone. Suddenly her boredom didn’t seem so bad after all, especially after all Melanie wanted to talk about was Dante.
“Girl, he’s so intelligent, knowledgeable on his subject matter and eloquent. He can convince anyone of anything and that suit he has on is tailored just right to fit that rock hard body of his. Good lawd that man is fine, girl.” She fanned herself with a hotel flier.
“Hmm...here’s a thought...if you like him so much, why don’t you go out with him?”
“Um, hello! The man can’t see another woman because his mesmerizing, hazel eyes are locked in on you, Emily Mitchell. You just refuse to accept that he wants you.”
“Oh, and I guess I’m supposed to be flattered that one of the Champion men has the hots for me?”
“Yes!” Melanie proclaimed. “You are supposed to be flattered. Do you know how many women are after those guys? And instead of accepting any of the women after him, Dante is chasing you, and I’ma tell you straight up...men like Dante are usually the chasee...not the chaser...”
Emily shook her head again and paced the floor in front of the display windows at her store; her black six-inch stiletto heels drumming against the old hardwood. The Champion brothers were handsome men, but they weren’t the only handsome men in all of Asheville. Since Melvin’s death, she’d been approached by several men – good-looking, successful men – but she turned every single one of them down. She had no desire to learn the mannerisms of someone else – their likes and dislikes. She’d spent years finding those things out about Melvin, fully immersing herself in his life by being the ideal wife and now, she was alone and lonely with no desire to start over from scratch. So to ease her loneliness, she’d began talking to Armand, a man she met online.
“Em, you there?”
“Yes, I’m here, and just so you know once and for all time, I’m not about to be one of Dante’s flavors of the week or no one else’s for that matter.”
“Yeah. You would just rather hide behind a computer and chat with strangers instead of being spontaneous and adventurous. What you need to do is put on some hiking boots and climb Dante’s peak.”
Emily’s mouth fell open. “First of all, I’m not climbing Dante’s peak or any other man’s...peak. Second, Armand is not a stranger. We’ve been talking for three months.”
Melanie smacked her lips. “I really don’t understand how you can dismiss a man like Dante for some online guy.”
“Very easily,” was Emily’s answer.
“Yeah, okay...keep on talking to these guys on the internet and see what happens...”
“It’s one guy, Mel. One.”
“That’s all it takes for you to get catfished.”
Emily’s chuckle echoed off the wall of her store. “What exactly does that even mean?”
“It means this man, Arnold—”
“Armand,” Emily corrected.
“Whatever. It means he could be someone with a fake identity online. Like for instance, he could be a she, an old pervert, or a serial killer. Even worse, he could actually look like a catfish.”
“And looking like a catfish is worse than being a serial killer?” Emily said through laughter.
Melanie laughed too.
“Oh, you are too much, Melanie. And since when is my love life the focus of your life? You’re single. Go mingle and leave me alone.”
Melanie had been involved with a guy by the name of Scott Porter for four years. Before him, she was being dogged out by pretty much every guy she dated and when Scott came along, she knew he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. That’s why, when she caught him red-handed having dinner with a woman, Cheaters-show-style, it broke her heart.
“We’re not talking about me. Now, back to the issue at hand...have you at least spoken with this guy on the phone yet?”
“No. He prefers chatting and emailing.”
“He prefers?” Melanie asked suspiciously.
“Melanie, cut me some slack, okay. I’m trying. You were the one always on my back, telling me that it’s time to start dating again and blah, blah, blah...I finally meet someone and you’re still not satisfied.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t trust this online dating stuff. Why set up a profile online and put yourself out there to the world when there are men...handsome, scrumptious, bachelors right here in this city looking for wives, one of whom is practically begging you to go out with him?”
“Because I think chatting behind the safety of my computer is best for me right now. Besides, there’s nothing for you to worry about. I never told you this, but the dating site I’m on is a website created specifically for people who’ve lost a marriage mate in death.”
“Oh,” was all Melanie could say. She liked to laugh and joke around with Emily as they always had done since they met at a customer service job eight years ago, but she wouldn’t make light of Emily’s feelings surrounding Melvin’s death. Although the accident that ended his life happened two years ago, Melanie knew that Emily was still very much a grieving widow.
Never had Melanie seen a couple more in love th
an Emily and Melvin. As the story goes, they’d met in college when Emily was twenty-three, married at twenty-five, and he passed when she was thirty. Those were the best five years of her life – her marriage – and now, at age thirty-two, she was brave enough to chat with a man online. It was a start, especially after she told any and everyone who would listen that Melvin was her soulmate and there would never be another man who she would give her heart to. Another man who could fill Melvin’s shoes. Never.
“What website is this?” Melanie inquired.
“It’s called Grieving Hearts Connect. They have hundreds of thousands of members with profiles and—”
“Is it free?”
“No. It costs fifty bucks a month. Why do you ask?”
“Because usually people don’t play games when they have to pay for something, so I’m relieved to know that there is a charge for it. Have you’ve seen a picture and the profile for...what’s his name again?”
“Armand, and yes, I’ve seen a picture. He’s nice-looking...said his wife died years ago.”
“How old is he?”
Emily grinned. “You do realize I told you all of this like two months ago.”
“Girl, please. You tell me a lot of things on our girl nights, but that doesn’t mean I remember any of it.”
“Yeah, especially with all that wine you drink.”
“If you had to deal with the guests at this hotel, you’d drink too.”
Emily grinned. “You better stop talking like that before your boss hears you.”
“Girl, I am the boss around this joint.”
“If you say so.” Emily laughed, then looked up when she heard the bell on her door. Two ladies came in, probably from a nearby office building on their lunch breaks.
“Mel, I got customers...I have to go, but stop by tonight so we can finish this discussion.”