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The Temporary Mrs King
Maureen Child
“Sean, about that kiss …”
Yeah, it was pretty much uppermost in his mind at the moment. Damn, he hadn’t reacted that fast to any other woman before.
“It was a good one,” he admitted.
If he had his way, he’d be taking his new bride upstairs to her suite. He’d lay her down on the closest flat surface he could find, then he’d hitch the skirts of her dress up and stare down into her eyes as he …
“We can’t do that again,” she said, effectively snapping him right out of his private fantasies.
“Sure we can,” Sean countered, moving a little closer to her. “Kissing’s not sex.”
“It is the way you do it,” she murmured.
His voice soft, his words careful, he said, “It was just a kiss, Melinda. It won’t go anywhere else unless you want it to.”
Dear Reader,
Writing these letters is sometimes hard and sometimes easy … This time, it’s a snap!
The Temporary Mrs King is Sean King’s book, and frankly, I’ve been dying to write about him since he first showed up in his brother Rafe’s book.
Sean is, to the outside world, an easygoing, laid-back kind of guy. He has a quick sense of humor, he’s loyal to the bone and like every other King cousin, family is everything to him. But there’s more to Sean than meets the eye. He’s learned the hard way about betrayal, and the secret in his past haunts him still.
Melinda Stanford looks as though she has it all. She grew up with a doting grandfather on a small, privately owned Caribbean island. She’s beautiful, smart and wealthy—or is she? Her doting grandfather is becoming more demanding lately, wanting to see his only grandchild settled and happy before he dies.
A bargain is struck, more secrets are born and a romance that made me smile all the way through it begins.
I really hope you enjoy Sean’s book as much as I did.
Visit me at www.maureenchild.com and at www.facebook.com/maureenchild. You can also write to me at PO Box 1883, Westminster, CA 92684-1883, USA.
Happy reading!
Maureen
About the Author
MAUREEN CHILD is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur. Visit Maureen’s website, www.maureenchild.com.
The Temporary
Mrs King
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my mother-in-law, Mary Ann Child.
She raised five sons, so she knows all about dealing
with hardheaded men.
Thanks for everything, Mom. I love you.
One
“I think we should get married.”
Sean King choked on his sip of beer. Slamming the icy bottle down onto the polished teak bar, he coughed until tears filled his eyes. He was forced to blink them away to see the woman who had nearly killed him with six little words.
She was worth it.
Her hair was nearly as black as his. Her eyes were a softer blue than his own and her skin was a pale honey color, telling him she spent a lot of time outdoors. She had high cheekbones, delicately arched black brows and a look of fierce determination stamped on her features.
Something inside him stirred when she licked her lips and, just for a second, he let his gaze drop to appreciate the rest of her. She was wearing a lemon-yellow sundress that showed off a pair of truly amazing legs. Her sandals boasted bright white flowers positioned over toes that were painted bloodred.
Finally lifting his gaze to hers, he gave her a half smile and said, “Married? Don’t you think we should have dinner first?”
Her lips twitched briefly, then she shot a look at the bartender, as if assuring herself he was far enough away to not overhear her. “I know how strange that sounded.…”
He laughed. “Strange is a good word for it.”
“… but, I have my reasons.”
“Good to know,” he said and lifted his beer for another sip. “Bye now.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re Sean King. You’re here to meet with Walter Stanford—”
Intrigued, Sean narrowed his eyes on her. “News travels fast on a small island.”
“Even faster when Walter is your grandfather.”
“Grandfather?” he repeated. “That means you’re—”
“Melinda Stanford, yes,” she finished for him, then glanced uneasily around again.
For the wealthy, pampered granddaughter of the man who owned this island, she seemed a little spooky.
“Look, would you mind if we took this to one of the tables? I’d really rather not be overheard.”
He could guess why. Proposing to a man you’d never met before wasn’t the most normal way of introducing yourself. Pretty, but she didn’t seem to be playing with all of her marbles. She didn’t wait for him to agree, just walked toward one of the half-dozen empty tables in the hotel bar.
Sean watched her, deliberating whether or not to follow her. Sure, she was gorgeous. But clearly she was a little unhinged, too.
She looked bright as a sunbeam sitting in the dark corner of the once elegant and now tired-looking bar. Thirty years ago, this place was no doubt considered top-of-the-line. But it had seen its day come and go and hadn’t tried hard enough to keep up.
Now, the wood floors had deep scars that several coats of polish couldn’t disguise. The walls were in need of fresh paint and the windows were too small. There were some nice touches though. Sort of art deco, Sean thought. The throughways were rounded at the top, arched with clean lines, which he liked. Round mirrors with tiled edges. Rectangular tables with bowed legs and mosaic inlaid surfaces. The wall sconces were Tiffany-esque with a modernistic thirties sense of style. It was beautiful, but definitely needed a face-lift. If it were his place, Sean would have taken out the front wall entirely and replaced it with glass, affording the patrons a spectacular view of the ocean. And he’d have clung to the art deco style and added a stained glass window filled with sharp angles and curves over the door. The hazards of running a construction company, he supposed. He was forever remodeling places in his mind.
But this wasn’t his bar and he had a beautiful, if a little weird, woman waiting on him. Since he wasn’t meeting Walter Stanford until the next morning and he had a few hours to kill anyway … Sean smiled to himself as he walked toward her.
He took a seat opposite her and leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. Holding his bottle of beer atop his flat belly, he tipped his head to one side, and studied her quietly, waiting for her to explain. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I know you’re here to buy the land on the North Shore.”
“Not exactly a secret,” he said, taking another sip of the icy beer. He took a quick look at the label. A local brew, it was exceptional. Once they got the go-ahead and Rico’s hotel was up and running, he’d tell his cousin to stock this beer in the bar.
Shifting his gaze to her, Sean shrugged. “It’s probably all over the island that the Kings are negotiating with your grandfather.”
“Yes,” she said, folding her hands together on the tabletop. Somehow, she managed to look both prim and incredibly sexy. “Lucas King was here a couple of months ago. He didn’t get very far with Grandfather.”
Irritating, but true.
In fact, Sean himself had already had one phone conversation with Walter and it hadn’t gone well. Which was the reason he was here, in person.
In the Caribbean, Tesoro was one of the smaller islands and privately owned. Walter Stanford was practically a feudal lord around here. He had his hand in most of the local businesses and guarded his island from newcomers like a pit bull at the end of a very short chain.
Sean’s cousin Rico King was bound and determined to expand his hotel empire and he wanted to build an exclusive resort here. On Tesoro. King Construction—Sean and his half brothers Rafe and Lucas—would be partners in the deal. But it wasn’t going to happen without that land. So for months, the Kings had been wheeling and dealing, trying to convince Stanford that a King hotel would mean great things for this island. New jobs, more tourists and plenty of money hitting local cash drawers.
Rico had been here himself to see the old man. Followed in quick succession by Sean’s brothers Rafe and then Lucas. Now it was Sean’s turn at bat, so to speak. He was the one sent in when things were looking bad. Sean’s charm and laid-back attitude were usually all it took to cinch a deal. He knew how to play hardball. He just never let others in on that secret.
“I’m not Lucas,” he said with confidence. “I’ll get the deal with your grandfather.”
“Don’t count on it,” she told him. “He’s very stubborn.”
“You don’t know the Kings,” he said. “We invented stubborn.”
She sighed and leaned toward him. The deeply scooped neckline of her sundress dipped, giving him a peek at her full breasts and just the smallest hint of a lacy bra. Sean reluctantly shifted his gaze to hers when she started speaking again.
“If you really want the land, there’s a sure way to get it.”
He shook his head and chuckled. Yeah, she was gorgeous, but he wasn’t in the market for a new woman in his life—let alone a wife. No, he’d complete this deal his way. And he wouldn’t need Melinda Stanford to do it. Chuckling again, he said, “The only way to get the land is by marrying you.”
“Exactly.”
He frowned. “You’re actually serious.”
“Absolutely.”
“Are you on medication?”
“Not yet,” she muttered. Then louder, she said, “Look, my grandfather is on a campaign to see me married with babies at my feet.”
Sean shuddered. Sure, his brothers and far too many of his cousins had been taking the marital plunge lately. Lucas just last year. But not Sean. Nope. Been there, done that, survived to tell the tale. Not that anyone in his family had ever heard about Sean’s thankfully brief trip into marriage hell.
He wasn’t about to get married again.
“Good luck with that,” he said and started to get up.
She reached across the table and grabbed his hand.
Instantly, heat sizzled where their palms met. Sean’s body responded to that heat in a blink. It caught him off guard, that flash of something … tantalizing. One look into her eyes told him she was as surprised as he was. And just as determined to ignore it. He could be attracted to a woman without doing anything about it. Hell, he hadn’t been led around by his dick since he was nineteen.
Though … the heat was still there, so to avoid temptation, he pulled his hand free of her grip and told himself he didn’t miss that sweep of heat.
“You could at least listen to me,” she said.
Frowning now, Sean eased back down in his chair. Not that he was interested in what she had to say, but why take the risk of offending a member of the very family he’d come here to do business with? “Fine. Listening. Make it fast.”
“Okay. Bottom line is, I want you to marry me.”
“Yeah, I got that. Why?”
“It makes sense.”
“In which universe?”
“You want the land for your cousin to build a hotel. I want a temporary husband.”
“Temporary?”
She laughed shortly and the sound was rich and musical. She shook her head until her soft, black hair floated around her like a dark halo. “Of course temporary. Did you think I was proposing a lifetime deal? To a man I’ve never met?”
“Hey,” he reminded her, “you’re the one proposing before I even knew your name, so watch the insults.”
“Fine.” She nodded, serious again. “Here’s the deal. When you meet with my grandfather, he’s going to suggest a merger/marriage.”
“How do you know?”
She waved one hand. “Because he’s already tried at least four times.”
“He didn’t try this with Lucas or Rafe.”
“Because they’re already married.”
“Ah. Right.” Why was he trying to make sense of a situation that was clearly nuts?
“Anyway,” she continued, “my grandfather will offer to sell you the land if you marry me. All I’m asking is that you accept.”
“And marry you.”
“Temporarily.”
“How long is temporarily?” He couldn’t even believe he was asking the question. He didn’t want a wife, temporary or not. All he wanted to do was buy the land.
She frowned a little and tapped the tip of her finger against her chin while she thought about it. “Two months should be enough,” she finally said with a nod. “Grandfather believes that even a business deal marriage could become something real given enough time. I don’t.”
