The Temporary Mrs King. Maureen Child
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proposal and it would really be better for both of them if they could keep sexual heat out of the mix entirely.
Nerves skittered in her stomach. She trailed her fingertips up and down the stem of her wineglass and told herself that she was doing the right thing. The only thing.
She needed a husband.
Now all she had to do was convince Sean King that he was the man for the job.
“No pressure,” she whispered.
She wasn’t sure what caught her attention. The sound of leather soles scraping against the stone floor of the patio? Or was it something more elemental than that? Was it the feel of Sean King’s gaze locked on her?
Whatever the reason, Melinda looked up to see the man walking toward her. His features were carefully blank, but for the half smile curving his mouth. He wore black slacks, a white, button-down shirt, open at the throat and a black jacket—and somehow, he managed to look both casual and dangerous.
Two
“Romantic setting for a business deal,” Sean commented as he sat down opposite her.
Melinda took a long, deep breath and forced a smile she wasn’t quite feeling. The nerves jumping inside her were now racing at a gallop. This was too important for her to make a mistake. Somehow, she had to convince Sean to marry her—temporarily.
“I wasn’t going for romantic,” she told him. “Just quiet.”
“You got both,” he said, nodding to the waiter when he stepped up to the table to pour wine. He waited until the server had moved off again before lifting his glass to take a small sip. Then he set the glass down, leaned his forearms on the tabletop and looked at her. Waiting again.
His gaze was steady and the expression on his face unreadable. Good sign? Bad sign? Melinda didn’t know. But there was one sure way to find out.
“I’m really sorry I dumped all of this on you out of the blue this afternoon.”
He shrugged. “No good way to propose to a stranger, I suppose.”
“True.” Shaking her head, Melinda said, “I know this all seems really strange, but you have to understand that my grandfather is very protective of me.”
“So much so he tries to barter you off to business associates?” Sean quipped.
Melinda stiffened. She could complain about her grandfather all she wanted, but she wouldn’t let someone else—especially someone who didn’t even know him—take a shot at him. “He’s trying to see me taken care of.”
Sean leaned back in his chair and scraped one hand across the back of his neck. “And if you were a simpering maiden trapped in the middle ages, that would make sense.”
This wasn’t starting off very well, she told herself and then decided to ignore whatever comments he made. He didn’t understand yet, that was all.
“Okay, yes,” she agreed, “he’s a little old-fashioned.”
Both of his eyebrows arched.
“Fine. More than a little.” She blew out a breath and explained. “I grew up here on Tesoro. My grandfather raised me when my parents died in a small plane crash when I was five.”
He frowned at that, then took a sip of wine. Still not giving anything away. Not letting her get even a hint of what he might be thinking. He was probably an excellent poker player, Melinda told herself. She, on the other hand, was terrible at card games. She couldn’t bluff to save her life. She was much more up-front and honest—well, she admitted silently, she wasn’t exactly being honest with her grandfather in all of this. But then, she had tried to talk him out of this husband hunt he was on. Sadly, she hadn’t been able to change his mind.
At the thought of Walter Stanford, she smiled in spite of her frustration. Her grandfather had been the one constant in her life. The one person who had always loved her no matter what. He was only trying to see her married because to him, that meant she would be protected and loved even when he was gone.
Which she so didn’t want to think about. A world without Walter Stanford in it just didn’t seem possible.
“Anyway,” Melinda said, “he’s getting older now and worrying about leaving me alone. I’ve told him that I’ll be fine, but he comes from a generation that believed in taking care of women. I’m his only family and he wants to protect me.” She gave him a long look. “You come from a big family and you’re very close to your brothers. That’s another reason why I’m coming to you with this plan. You understand family loyalties.”
“I do,” he admitted with a nod. “In fact, that’s the one part of this whole thing that I totally get. I understand your grandfather’s motivations. What I can’t figure out is why you’re willing to play along with his plans.”
She smoothed her palms over the skirt of her cream-colored tank dress and tugged at the hem, but couldn’t get it to reach the tops of her knees. “Because I love him. I don’t want him to be worried …”
“… And?”
He was right, there was more. Quite a bit more.
“And, once I’m married, as I said, I’ll come into my trust fund.”
“Ah,” he said, with a small smile. “And by marrying me, you don’t have to worry about your new hubby making off with your money.”
“Exactly.” She returned that smile and felt a bit of her nerves slide away. He was surprisingly easy to talk to once you got past the weirdness of the conversation.
“And again, how long would this marriage last?”
“I think two months should do it,” she said, warming to her subject now that they were talking specifics. She had been working on this plan for weeks now and in her mind, at least, it all worked out perfectly. And so far so good. Sean King was still sitting opposite her. He hadn’t said yes, yet. But, he hadn’t walked out and he hadn’t said no—precisely. “It’s long enough that my grandfather would be convinced we at least tried to make it work.”
“And once our marriage ‘fails,’ you think he’d stop trying to marry you off?”
“I think so,” she said, chewing at her bottom lip as she considered it. “I hope so,” she corrected after a minute or two. “But basically I’m tired of fending off men trying to buy my grandfather’s goodwill. Besides, this is my only chance to get my trust fund my way. Well, mostly my way. I’ll still be married, like Grandfather wants, but it will be a husband I choose and the kind of marriage I want.”
He shifted in his chair and the breeze ruffled his black hair, lifting it off his forehead. He was still listening, so Melinda hurried on.
“Like I said earlier, if you agree, we’ll get married and stay married for two months. I’ll get my trust fund. You’ll get your land. And then we’ll both get a divorce.”
The waiter showed up just then, so whatever Sean might have said would have to wait. Impatient now, sensing that just maybe he was beginning to come around, it seemed to take forever for them to order their meal. Finally, though, it was done, and they were alone again.
“So?” she asked. “What do you think?”
That was easily enough answered. Sean was still fairly sure she needed medication.
And yet … He draped one arm over the back of his chair and studied her.
Warm night, cold wine and a beautiful woman sitting across the table from him. In Sean’s world, that sounded just about perfect. His gaze swept up and down Melinda Stanford, from the thick black waves of her hair to the blue-green stones glittering at her ears to the dip in the neckline of her dress, to the shine of her manicured nails. She was gorgeous. No doubt. But she was also complicated. And maybe crazy.