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Authors: Maureen Child

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BOOK: The Temporary Mrs. King
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“I took a drive by the site last week,” he shouted, to be heard over the wind, “but haven't had a chance to really check it out in person.”

“What have you been doing all week?” she asked, and thought how odd it was that she didn't already know the answer to that question. But since they'd been avoiding each other, it wasn't all that surprising, was it?

He glanced at her. “Mostly I've been setting up an office at the hotel. I'm using one of the suites for now.
When construction starts, I'll find something more permanent.”

The car followed the curve of the road and as they came up from behind a row of vine-covered hedges, a spectacular view of the ocean spread out in front of them. Whitecaps danced on the surface and, in the distance, a lone sailboat skimmed over the water.

“It really is beautiful here,” he said.

“It is,” she agreed, then turned to look at him. “But you live at the beach in California, don't you? You're used to views like this.”

Sean smiled as he glanced from the view to the woman beside him and back to the road. “I live in Sunset Beach. Not far from Long Beach where my brothers live.”

“Is it nice?”

He thought about that for a minute. He'd always liked his place, loved the beach community and the easygoing pace of life. And he had always believed that the view from his house couldn't be beat. Until he'd come here.

“Yeah, it is,” he said, slowing the car down so he didn't have to shout to be heard. “Used to think that I had the best view in the world.” He grinned and added, “You already know I live in a rehabbed water tower. It's so much higher than any of my neighbors, I can see for miles in any direction. The ocean at home, it's…tamer than here. With the jetties and the piers, by the time the water hits shore at home, all of the temper's been taken out of it. It just sort of whimpers ashore—except during a storm, of course.”

She smiled at his description.

Sean shrugged and said, “Never bothered me before really, but seeing the ocean here…waves crashing. That color. Not really blue, not really green. And so damn
clear.” He shook his head. “Have to say, your view beats mine.”

“That's nice to hear.”

He glanced at her again and smiled. “Still, can't get decent Thai food here at one in the morning.”

“True,” she said, glancing out at the ocean. “But there are compensations.”

“Good point.” And not all of the compensations were centered on the lush beauty of the island. Melinda Stanford herself was pretty damned intriguing whether he wanted her to be or not. Sean shifted a quick look at her and his insides stirred again. Probably not a good thing, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it.

His hands fisted on the steering wheel as he gave himself a stern talking-to. He had no intention of getting involved with Melinda. There was no future here. There was nothing beyond the duration of their two-month deal. Best to keep that thought uppermost in his mind.

But then, his mind wasn't giving him problems. His body, on the other hand, seemed to be in a constant state of painful frustration.

“Have you talked to your brothers since the wedding?”

His thoughts splintered at the sound of her voice, and he was grateful for the reprieve. And he wasn't an idiot, either. He heard the unspoken subtext all too clearly. She was wondering if he had told his brothers about what had happened between them. About the aborted wedding night. About the kiss that had been driving him nuts for days and the fact that they hadn't even been speaking since that night.

Right. Just the thought of telling his brothers
any
of what was really going on made him cringe. Rafe and Lucas had given him so much grief over getting married
in the first place, the last thing he wanted to do was give them more ammunition to use to hammer at him.

Besides, Sean had had an epiphany late last night. Easy to do lots of thinking when you were trying to sleep on a torture rack called a couch. Damn thing was so short for him, the backs of his knees had permanent dents from hanging over the arm for hours at a stretch. But thinking time had helped him come to a decision about this temporary marriage.

He'd been married before, and it was a nightmare. His ex-wife had lied to him, used him, then walked off and, he told himself, good riddance. So Sean knew the whole love and happily ever after thing was a crock told to fools to give them something to cling to on lonely nights.

Melinda hadn't learned that.

Hell, she'd grown up in Brigadoon. Sunshiny, happy people living in a world filled with glorious sunsets, warm water and sweet-smelling flowers. Of
course
she'd believe that the late, lamented Steven was a saint. The man hadn't lived long enough to disabuse her of the notion. He hadn't been around to disappoint her. Or hurt her. He hadn't lived long enough for Melinda to learn the cold, hard truth.

There was no such thing as love.

Happily ever after only existed in books.

Instead, Melinda had been left behind holding onto memories that no doubt got prettier and prettier with the passage of time. She was being romantic and female, insisting on tucking her emotions away and burying them with Steven.

Well, Sean had decided that the least he could do for her while they were married was to wake her up. To make her live again. And no way could he do that when they weren't even speaking.

So he put his own anger at being lied to aside and de
cided to use what he was best at. Charm. Hell, there wasn't a woman alive Sean couldn't get around when he turned on the charm. And once he got past Melinda's defenses, she'd see that lust was a lot more substantial than “love.” Lust, at least, was honest.

“No,” he said finally when he realized she was still waiting for him to answer her question. “Well, I mean I've talked to them.
Not
talking to Rafe and Lucas about a job would be considered a felony in the King family.”

“Oh.” She turned her face away to look out at the ocean. He didn't have to see her features to know what she was thinking though. Tension fairly radiated off her body. Even the line of her jaw was tight enough that he knew she had to be clenching her teeth.


But
, I haven't told them anything about us.”

“Really?” Her eyes were hopeful but wary when she turned her head to him. “Why?”

“None of their business, is it?” He steered around a hairpin curve in the road. “They're in California. We're here. And what happens between us,” he added with a meaningful look at her, “
stays
with us…to borrow a phrase from the Vegas ad agency. Just relax, Melinda. It's a great day. We're at the beach. It's all good.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “I can do that.”

He slid a glance at her and saw her ease back into her seat. Her features smoothed out and the tension around her mouth disappeared. Good, he thought. Already working. In no time at all, he'd have Melinda Stanford King eating out of his hand. Then he'd let
her
seduce
him,
and they could both enjoy this marriage as long as it lasted.

In a few more minutes, they were at the future hotel site and he was parking the convertible. Beside him, she still seemed a little tense. Well, he was going to take care of that.

“Come on,” he said, “let's build a hotel.”

She smiled at him, and Sean felt a quick jolt of…something. He didn't want to put a name to it. Didn't even really want to admit to it. Ignoring that feeling wouldn't make it go away but, for now anyway, he was going to give it a shot.

Clearing his mind of everything but the moment, he got out and waited while Melinda did the same. She came around the front of the car, giving him a great view. She looked amazing in a simple pair of white pants and a bright yellow T-shirt. Her sandals displayed toes painted a soft pink and when he lifted his gaze to hers, he smiled. He was glad when she smiled back.

He just naturally took her hand in his. That burst of heat he was almost getting used to happened again with that simple touch, but he paid no attention to that, either. Whatever it was that lay between them was only going to help him seduce her.

This was going to go Sean King's way or no way.

Seven

S
ean looked around, taking in the whole place in one long gaze. Had to hand it to Rico, he thought. The man knew his stuff. This was the perfect spot for a luxury hotel. The land was crescent-shaped, with a wide, perfect beach and two spits of land that jutted into a sea that was simply an impossible blue. Sean could imagine the private cottages Rico wanted, sitting out on those points—private spots perfect for honeymooners.

He hoped those future newlyweds had a better time than he was having at the moment. A glance at his wife sent another jolt of need shooting through him. He kept control, though it wasn't pleasant. Sean wasn't used to wanting a woman and then being denied. Until now, the only other woman who had ever given him any trouble at all had been his ex. Figured he'd only have problems with the women he
married
.

Maybe it was karma, he told himself. Payback for never
letting women get too close. So the moment he did, it bit him in the ass.

Happy thoughts. He shut them down and turned his attention back to the moment at hand. Scanning the area, he looked from the beach to the land. It stretched out for acres, then sloped gently up into the knoll where he guessed Rico wanted his house built. There were banyan trees sprinkled across the property, with their weird root systems dropping down from heavy branches to support their weight. Thick stands of woods surrounded the area and flowering vines crept across the ground and over rocks.

The sun shone down on the whole scene like a blessing and Sean inhaled the flower-stained scent of the sea. In his mind's eye, he could see the resort, spreading out across the ground, wood and glass and bright, tropical colors. It was going to be a beauty.

“It's a great view,” Melinda said, bringing him out of his imagination. He looked to see her turning her head to where an insanely white beach drifted down to the ocean. The waves rumbled into shore with a relentless rhythm that sounded like the heartbeat of the world.

“I haven't found a bad view on Tesoro yet,” he mused, then turned his head back around and imagined the sprawl of the exclusive resort that would soon be standing here. “Though I think this is one of the best ones around.”

“I do, too. Grandfather was going to build a house here for he and my grandmother.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she stared out at the sweep of lush green. “But she was killed in the same accident that killed my parents.”

He frowned, thinking about the proud old man and how much he had lost in one fell swoop. No wonder he'd held on to this piece of land so staunchly. It meant something
special to him. It was a place of dreams, Sean thought, looking at the land with a new eye.

For just a minute, he wondered what it must have been like for Walter Stanford, alone with a five-year-old granddaughter to raise. It wouldn't have been easy. But as far as he could tell, Sean thought with another look at Melinda, the old guy had done a hell of a job. Except, of course, for that romantic streak Melinda carried around.

“I think he'll enjoy seeing your hotel go up here,” she said, looking around as if seeing the land for the first time.

“Hope so.” Sean squeezed her hand as he started walking, tugging her along behind him. “It's gonna be a hell of a place when we're done.”

“When do you start work?”

“I've already talked to a couple of the guys at the local construction company…”

“Ah,” she interrupted, taking the grassy expanse at a run beside him, “then you've met Tomin.”

Sean laughed as he pulled her to a stop in the wide shade of the nearest tree. “Yeah. Quite a guy. Did you know he's the hereditary prince of Tesoro?”

Melinda chuckled and shook her head. “To hear him tell it, he's also the prince of Tobago and the rightful king of Hawaii.”

“All of that and a carpenter, too,” Sean said with a grin.

Melinda's eyes shone with laughter. “A man of many talents and too many stories.”

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled her closer to the tree trunk. “About that. Any interesting stories from your childhood you want to tell me?”

Melinda's eyes went wide and horrified. “He did
not
tell you about the banyan tree incident.”

“Oh yeah, he did,” Sean said, laughing at the appalled
expression in her eyes. “I'm thinking I should see that tree for myself. Maybe put up a plaque.”

“A plaque?”

“Something small and tasteful,” he teased, “and it can read,
Here on this spot, Melinda Stanford went skinny-dipping and got her leg stuck in a root and couldn't get out until her friend Kathy went for help
.”

Melinda smirked at him. “Something small, huh?”

He shrugged and winked. “
Smallish
.”

“I was fourteen,” she told him.

“Ahh, but in my mind, you were a lot older.”

“Sean…” She tried to tug her hand free of his, but he just held on tighter.

Melinda was fighting her own desires for him and damned if he was going to make it easier on her.

“Can't blame a man for what he thinks,” he said lightly.

She stared up into his eyes as a long moment passed, then she said, “I suppose not.”

“There, see? We're getting along great. No pressure, Melinda. No expectations.”

Okay, that was a lie, he admitted silently. But she'd lied first. She hadn't mentioned the guy she was still pining for before she got Sean to marry her, temporarily or not. So if he let her think he was letting go of his desire for her, then that was fair, right?

As if trying to distance herself from both him and the sudden tension between them, she said, “I wasn't really skinny-dipping anyway. I was wearing underwear, thank God. While Kathy and I were climbing the tree, our clothes got swept out by the tide. As it was, I was mortified when she had to go get Tomin to rescue me.”

Well, now the image in his mind was of Melinda, as she was now, wearing only a lacy bra and a thong—pink, in
his imagination—sitting in a tree, smiling down at him. His blood pumped a little thicker, hotter.

“Banyan tree, huh?” He patted the heavy trunk beside them.

“What're you thinking now?” she asked, giving him a wary look.

He smiled. “You don't want to know.”

“Probably not,” she agreed, then changed the subject. “So, what else did Tomin, the big gossip, have to say?”

“Lots of things,” Sean told her with a grin. “But don't worry, most of his chatter was about the island construction team. How good they are, how professional and how we'd be stupid not to use them.”

“Well, he's right about that,” Melinda said. “Though I bet he didn't mention that he and his five sons make up most of the crew.”

“No, he didn't.” Sean's smile got wider. “Doesn't matter though. Now I like him even more. He's standing with his family. Working for them. As a King, I can understand that better than most. We're all about family.”

She leaned back against the banyan tree. “I always wanted a big family. Growing up an only child was lonely sometimes.”

He planted one hand on the trunk over her head and leaned in. “Yeah, I get that. I grew up an only child, too.”

She looked up at him. “Excuse me?”

He frowned to himself. Couldn't believe the stuff he was blurting out to her. Things he never talked about with anyone. But it was too late to pull the words back and she was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. So he kept it as brief and as light as possible.

“My brothers and I, we've all got different mothers.”

Her eyebrows went up. Yeah, he could see how it
sounded. Hell, he'd grown up with the reality, and sometimes even he had a hard time believing it.

“My father Ben, he believed in spreading himself around,” he said wryly. “He didn't marry any of the women he was involved with, but he managed to leave a son behind everywhere he went.”

“No daughters?”

“Nope.” Sean shrugged, bent down and picked up a rock. Turning toward the ocean, he swung his right arm back and threw it as far as he could. Then he watched for the splash. “At least, not as far as we know. Kings tend to run toward boys. Though a couple of my cousins have had girls recently.”

“You have a lot of cousins?”

He snorted. “Can't throw a rock in California without hitting a King.”

“Must be nice.” She sounded almost wistful.

He thought about it for a second. “Yeah, it really is. Nice to have people who will watch your back no matter what.” He paused, gave her a half smile and added, “Don't tell them I've been saying nice things about them though. They'll never let me forget it.”

“Your secret's safe with me.”

“Good to know.” He looked from her to the banyan tree she was leaning against.

“What're you doing?” Melinda asked, coming up beside him.

“I'm trying to picture you stuck in a tree.”

She snorted a laugh. “It didn't happen here. I was on the other side of the island.”

“Uh-huh.” Sean looked from her to the great old tree and back again.

“Sean…”

“Yep, gotta see this for myself.” He picked her up, cradling her close to his chest.

“Sean, put me down.”

He grinned at her. Damned if he didn't enjoy the feel of her body pressed in close to his. Looking down into her eyes, he saw the laughter there and that zip of something different shot through him again. He pushed that thought aside though. “I need a visual aid.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Just curious.” He grinned again, reached up and plunked her down on a thick branch. Instantly, she slapped her hands to the wind-worn wood to keep her balance while spearing him with a hard look.

“You are crazy.”

“Nope, just wanted to be able to imagine you in this tree.”

“Fine. Now get me down.”

“Not done yet,” he countered and laid his hands on her knees. She stilled and took a breath. He wondered if she was feeling the heat sliding back and forth between their bodies. Then he looked into her eyes and realized that yes, she felt it too.

Seconds ticked past while they stared at each other. She was nervous. He sensed that much. Good, he told himself. Nerves meant she wasn't as sure of herself as she pretended.

“Have you seen enough?” she asked.

“Not nearly,” he told her, meaning it.

“Sean…”

“Do I make you nervous, Melinda?”

She took a breath. “Of course not.”

“Liar.” He said it with a smile, but he saw that single word hit her.

“Help me down, please.”

Sunlight dappled through the branches. The thick green leaves surrounded her, dancing in the wind, and she looked like a damn nymph up there.

He set his hands at her waist and lifted her off the tree, setting her on her feet. But he didn't let her go. He indulged himself in the feel of her. In the heat flashing in her gaze. In the soft sigh of her breath.

She looked…smaller, somehow. More vulnerable. And he really didn't need to start thinking of her like that. It wasn't his job to protect her, was it? Because he couldn't seduce her and look out for her at the same time.

And he'd really rather seduce her.

He supposed that made him a supreme jerk, but Sean was willing to live with that. As long as it got him what he wanted—Melinda in his bed.

 

Several days later, Melinda watched Sean with Tomin and his sons and it was a revelation.

Sean King was one of the wealthiest men in the world. His family was famous and counted royalty among their friends. Yet, he stood here in boots, jeans and a T-shirt, talking to regular working guys as if he were one of them. She saw the easiness in his manner, the genuine smile, and she knew this wasn't an act. This was who he was.

She tried to picture Steven standing around laughing with Tomin and couldn't quite manage it. Steven had always been more interested in the finer things than in simple pleasures. He had always talked about when they got married and had her trust fund, how they would leave this island and travel where they could meet the “right” people. She hadn't liked the sound of it at the time any more than she did now. Tesoro was home. Would always be home. But Steven hadn't been happy here. Funny that she hadn't actually realized that before.

She frowned slightly at the disloyal thoughts. Steven had been the love of her life. She had been devastated when he died. She still missed him. It didn't matter that they hadn't agreed on everything.

“We can get started leveling the field,” Sean said, his voice capturing her attention, “then by next week, we can map out the foundations.”

Sunlight was bright, and the trade winds were blowing hard today. Sean's thick black hair was tousled, and Melinda was forced to curl her fingers into her palms to avoid the temptation of reaching up to smooth it back. Shaking her head again she gave herself a good talking-to. Reminding herself that she would never betray Steven's memory. That she wasn't interested in another man.

Her body wasn't listening.

“Sounds good.” Tomin nodded as his practiced gaze swept the area. “I can bring in extra crews from one of the outer islands if we'll need them.”

“We will,” Sean promised. “This is going to be a huge job and when we're finished here, we'll be moving on to the ridge to build the house my cousin is designing.”

“Good news for all of us, then,” Tomin said with an eager grin. “What about the trees?” he asked. “You want us to take them all out when we're doing the level work?”

A whisper of regret slid through Melinda at the thought. Of course, she knew that they would have to tear down the old banyans to build the hotel but she hated thinking about it. They were so old. So…breathtaking. They were as much a part of the island as anything else and the thought of losing trees that were more than a century old broke her heart.

BOOK: The Temporary Mrs. King
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