“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

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.”

“Right there with ya,” Sean said, tipping his beer bottle at her in salute.

“My point is, if we’re married two months, then Grandfather will think we’ve given it a try and it just didn’t work out. Long enough to soothe him and short enough that neither of us should mind too much.”

“Uh-huh.” He looked at her, wondering how this day had gone from normal into the world of weird. “And you’ve chosen me for the honor of temporary husband … why?”

She sat back in her chair and drummed her fingertips on the table. She might look cool and composed, Sean told himself, but her nerves were showing anyway.

“I did some research into you.”

“What?”

“Well,” she explained, “I’m not about to marry just anybody.”

“Oh yeah,” he said nodding, “I can see that.”

“You were a good student in college, majored in computer sciences. You graduated and went into business with two of your half brothers. You’re the tech guy, but also the one they call on to make the hard sell.” She took a breath and Sean just stared at her. “You live in a rehabbed water tower in Sunset Beach California and you love your sister-in-law’s cookies.”

He frowned and took a long drink of his beer. Sean didn’t much care for being researched. And he really didn’t care for what she had to say next.

“You don’t do commitment,” she said, still tapping her fingers on the tabletop. “You’re a serial monogamist—one woman only until you move on to the next one. Your exes all speak highly of you though, so that tells me you’re a nice enough guy despite the fact that you can’t maintain a relationship.”

“Excuse me?”

“The longest relationship you had was in college. That lasted nearly nine months, though I couldn’t find out what happened to end it—”

And she never would, Sean thought, deciding he’d had enough. Beautiful or not, she was starting to annoy him.

“That’s it. I’m done.” He leaned across the table and stared into those beautiful, sea-blue eyes of hers and said, “I’ll get the land and I’ll do it my way. I’m not interested in your schemes, babe, so try them on somebody else.”

“Wait. Just … wait.” She gave him a wide-eyed look out of those beautiful blue eyes and he felt himself weakening. “This is coming out all wrong and I know it. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“Not offended,” he assured her. “Just not interested.”

Melinda felt a quick jolt of something like panic. She’d completely messed this up and she didn’t want to risk having him turn her down. So she took a long breath and said, “Just, give me a chance to start over, okay?”

He gave her a wary look, but he didn’t stand up and walk out, so she took that as a good sign.

God, where should she start? Funny, but she’d been planning on ambushing Sean King since she’d first heard about his upcoming visit weeks ago. Hence the research, she thought wryly. But in all that time, she’d never really considered how she was going to explain all of this without sounding like a complete loon.

“Okay, let me back up a little. The thing is, I’ll come into a trust fund once I get married. With that, I can live my own life. Don’t get me wrong here. I love my grandfather. He’s a sweetie. But,” she added with a helpless shake of her head, “he’s really old school. He thinks women need to be married and having babies. Period. And he’s relentless in trying to find a husband for me. I just thought, if I could get one on my own terms …”

“Okay,” he said. “I get that. I guess what I’m wondering is again, why me?”

“Because this benefits both of us,” she said, warming to her subject. At least he was listening. “You get the land. I’ll get the trust fund, and then we’ll both get a divorce.”

He scowled a little, still unconvinced, so Melinda took a wild shot. “I could … pay you for your time.…”

Instantly, anger flared in his eyes. “I’m not going to have you pay me to marry you. I don’t need your money.”

That reaction told her she’d made the right choice. Heaven knew there were millions of men who would have been more than happy to take her money. But Sean King was so wealthy in his own right, her trust fund, though immense to her, was probably nothing more than spending money to him.

Still, it spoke to his character that he was offended at the idea of her buying his services.

“Okay, but you and your cousin do want to build a hotel on Tesoro?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“And to do that, you need the land.”

“Yeah.”

“To get the land, you’ll need me.” When he didn’t look convinced, she said, “I know you don’t believe me, but you should. You’re meeting with Grandfather in the morning, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

“Great. Then why don’t we have dinner tonight? We can talk more about this and maybe I can convince you.”

He gave her a slow smile that was hardly more than a slight curve of his mouth, but she felt the impact of it slam into her. Sean King oozed charm and sex appeal. The man was bristling with testosterone and Melinda felt a shiver of appreciation shoot through her.

Oh, this could get dangerous, she told herself.

“Dinner, huh?” He set his beer down and nodded. “Okay. I never turn down an opportunity for dinner with a beautiful woman. But I warn you, I’m not interested in being married.”

“I know,” she told him. “That’s why you’re perfect.”

He shook his head and laughed. “I can’t decide if you’re crazy or not.”

“Not crazy,” she assured him. “Just determined.”

“Beautiful and determined,” he murmured. “A dangerous combination.”

Heat flashed through her veins in spite of the fact that she didn’t want to be attracted to him. She ignored the warmth still blossoming inside her and said, “There’s a restaurant in town. Diego’s. I’ll meet you there at seven.”

“I’m agreeing to dinner,” he said with another half smile. “Not marriage.” He stood up and looked down at her. “Diego’s. Seven.”

When he walked away, Melinda watched him. He was tall and lean and moved with a kind of lazy grace that men with lots of confidence seemed to adopt. Sean King was more than she’d expected.

She only hoped he wasn’t more than she could handle.

“Lucas, what do you know about Melinda Stanford?” Sean spoke into his cell phone as he stood out on the end of the pier, watching the fishing boats head into the harbor.

“She’s Walter’s granddaughter.”

“Yeah, I know that much.”

“Well, what else is there?”

Way too much to go into over the phone, Sean thought. “Did you meet her when you were on Tesoro?”

“Briefly,” Lucas said. “But then, my whole trip was brief. Walter said ‘No’ so fast, I didn’t even get to unpack my bag before I was on the launch taking me back to civilization.”

“Right.” Sean nodded thoughtfully and kept his gaze fixed on the ocean.

“So what’s this about?” Lucas asked. “Problem already? The great Sean charm not working?”

“In your dreams.” Sean laughed, turned around and headed back down the dock. “I told you I’d get the land and I will.”

“Yeah … good luck with the old man. I think he got a charm immunization.”

“We’ll see,” Sean said.

Diego’s was small and bright and popular with both locals and tourists. Seafood was the specialty and it was served at small, square tables decorated with brilliantly colored tablecloths that shone like jewels in the candlelit atmosphere. Patio dining offered more privacy, as there were fewer tables and those were spread far apart, but even the customers who stayed inside had a breathtaking view of the ocean and the pristine beach through a wide bank of windows. Moonlight glowed in the night sky and dazzled the water with silver light.

A sigh of a cool breeze slipped in off the ocean and danced around Melinda as she sat on the patio. Fall weather on Tesoro was capricious at best. Warm during the days, the nights could be cold or as it was tonight, almost sultry.

But then, Melinda thought, taking a slow sip of her ice-cold wine, maybe it wasn’t the weather making her feel hot and uncomfortable. Maybe it was Sean King.

No, she told herself immediately. That couldn’t be it. Because she refused to be attracted to him. She wasn’t interested in a man and didn’t think she ever would be again. This was strictly a business 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.

Still. Didn’t mean he couldn’t consider her proposal. In fact, he’d spent the last few hours doing just that.

Her grandfather, Walter Stanford, had shut down every deal the Kings had proposed over the last few months. Walter hadn’t been interested, no matter how high their offers had gone. Either the old man seriously didn’t need the money or he was as crazy as his granddaughter. But as soon as that thought entered his head, Sean discounted it. The old man wasn’t a loon.

He was crafty.

Walter knew what he wanted and wasn’t willing to settle for less. How the hell could a King of all people resent that? The King family did the same thing. They never took no for an answer and never gave up on something they wanted.

Sean smiled to realize that he and ol’ Walter would probably get along great.

“What’s so funny?”

“What?”

“You’re smiling,” she pointed out, managing to look both gorgeous and offended. “I asked what was so funny?”

She was insulted, Sean realized and he couldn’t really blame her. No doubt she thought he was laughing silently at her well-presented offer. And as he considered the fact that it was so well-presented, he had to wonder if he was the first man to receive this weird proposal.

“How many times have you tried this?” he asked, leaning toward her so he could keep his voice down. Tables on the patio were few and the other diners sparse, but it paid to be careful.

She frowned slightly. “You’re the first.”

“Why? Why pick me?”

“I told you. I checked you out.”

“Yes,” he said, “but you’d already decided that I would be the lucky winner or you wouldn’t have bothered doing your research.”

She chewed at her bottom lip, and he wondered if it was nerves or just a habit. Then she reached for her wineglass and took a long sip. She set the glass down again before saying, “I knew my grandfather was talking to you. He kept me posted on the negotiations between him and your family. He told me that you had taken over from Lucas and not long after that I saw a picture of you, okay? And you looked … nice.”

“Nice?” he repeated, appalled at the idea. “Old maid schoolteachers are ‘nice.’ Puppies are ‘nice.’ Ice cream on a hot day is ‘nice.’ Men, especially Kings, are not nice.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, “I’m getting that.”

He’d never been called nice in his life. Funny. Handsome. Smart. And by some, he admitted, cold. Closed off. But never “nice.” What picture of him could have possibly given her that impression?

“Where’d you see this photo?”

“It was in one of those celebrity magazines they sell at the grocery store.” She flushed when she said it, almost as if embarrassed to admit she read the damn things. But millions did, Sean knew.

“You were at a football game with one of your brothers—”

Sean nodded. “Lucas,” he provided, remembering that shot of him and his brother at a pre-season game. If his secretary hadn’t shown it to him, he would have been unaware of it. He never paid attention to the photographers who were always ready to take pictures of the King family. It was just part of being who he was. Nodding, he said, “We hit the first pre-season game together every year.”

“Well, in the picture, you were laughing and you looked friendly.”

“Better than nice, but just barely,” he admitted. He had an easygoing attitude to most of life, he supposed, which worked well in business, since his opponents were never ready for him to turn on them. But as far as women were concerned, most of those he knew would never think of describing him as nice, for God’s sake.

Nice was … nice. He wasn’t. Not at the heart of him. And usually it didn’t take long for people to pick up on that.

She shrugged a little. “The point is, you looked like a man I could talk to about all of this. When I found out you were coming to Tesoro personally, I decided to take a stand.”

“By lying to your grandfather.”

“Not a lie,” she argued quickly. “We actually will be married. So it’s more of a colorful representation of the truth.”

He fought back a smile. Seems Melinda Stanford had her own rules to play by. Well, Sean could admire anyone who set out to do something and didn’t let anything get in the way. He could even take a step back and see that from her point of view, he actually was the perfect temporary husband. The question was, could he see it from his point of view?

Their dinner arrived before he could say anything else and, for a few minutes, they each focused on their meals. The food was excellent, the atmosphere even better and the beautiful woman across from him was just the capper.

He’d rarely met a woman who didn’t find it necessary to fill every silence with some kind of inane chatter. He found himself relaxing. The silence stretching out between them was companionable somehow, as if they were already a team.

He frowned to himself at that thought, since he hadn’t decided a damn thing yet.

“You’ve lived here your whole life,” he said into the quiet.

“Since I was five, yes.” She turned her head to look out over the water. The tide was out, and a handful of couples strolled the beach in the moonlight. “It’s a lovely island. The town is small, but the hotel is a big draw. Most people prefer coming here because Grandfather’s never allowed the cruise ships to stop. So, our guests tend to be very wealthy and very into their privacy. But they spend plenty of money in the village and the shops usually make enough money to last them through the off-season.”

“I know.” He gave her a quick grin. “The Kings do research, too.”

“Then you already know that Tesoro is the perfect spot for the resort you want to build,” she said, setting her fork and knife down.

“Agreed.” It was more than perfect. Like it had been designed specifically for the plans Rico had in mind. Rico’s hotel in Mexico was top-of-the-line, modern, beautiful and plush. But for the resort on Tesoro, things would be different. Rico wanted to go with island elegance. To make this the most talked-about destination spot in the world.

And with King Construction behind the building and design, it would be. Sean was itching to get started. The plans were already drawn up, the equipment ready to ship to the island. All they needed was the old man’s go-ahead and things could start rolling.

“It would be good for Tesoro, too,” she told him. “We have a small construction company on the island, you know. My grandfather started it twenty years ago. They do all the building and would be a big help to your company.”

“Uh-huh.” He knew that, too. Of course the Kings would bring in some of their own men because they’d worked with them for years and trusted them. But using island labor would not only move things along quicker, it would make for good relations with the locals.

It would all be perfect—if he didn’t mind getting married to accomplish it.

Melinda’s eyes shone in the candlelight and her smile curved her lips just to the point where he thought about leaning over the table to have a taste. Her teeth chewed at her bottom lip again and he felt an answering tug inside him. Sean was tight and hard and going to damn well embarrass himself if he had to stand up anytime soon.

“Are you listening to me?”

“What?” He grinned, grateful for the distraction. “Sure. Construction. Can’t get enough of that.”

She frowned and huffed out a breath. “I’m just saying that this could be a good deal for all of us, Sean. You get the land, the island gets a hotel that will create jobs and bring in money to the locals—”

“And you get your trust fund.”

“Yes.” She picked up her wineglass and took the last sip. When she’d finished, she asked, “Well. What do you say? Do we have a deal? Will you marry me?”

Those four words sent an instinctive chill down his spine, but Sean ignored it. Sure, he had vowed to never again make the mistake of getting married. But this was different.

The first time he had said “I do,” he got screwed, in more ways than one. This time, he would get something out of the deal beyond a quickie divorce. This time, he would be the one in charge. The one to say when it was over. The one to walk away.

And this time, his heart wouldn’t be involved.

Nodding, he held out one hand to her. “I think you’ve got a deal.”

That smile of hers widened and nearly took his breath away. She took his hand and, just like their first touch hours ago, the instant their palms met, there was a quick flash of heat that seemed to zing straight up his arm to bounce around his chest like a crazed ping-pong ball. Sean had been hoping to hell he had imagined that sizzle between them. But if anything, it was stronger this time around. Damn it. If she felt it, she didn’t show it, so neither did Sean. He willed his body into submission and fought against an attraction that was more powerful than he’d expected.

“There’s just one more thing,” she said as she pulled her hand free of his.

Sean laughed. “You’ve already swept me off my feet,” he said wryly. “What’s left?”

“No sex.”

Well, that got his attention. He stared at her for a long minute until she finally shifted her gaze from his nervously.

This was an entirely new experience for Sean. Most women were downright eager to get close to him. Hell, he usually had to fend off women trying to fling themselves into his bed. He’d turned down a lovely woman only an hour ago in the hotel bar. But her blond hair and brown eyes hadn’t done a thing for him since he had been too preoccupied with thoughts of Melinda Stanford.

The woman who wanted to marry him—just not sleep with him.

He stared her down and she didn’t flinch. That steady blue gaze never wavered.

What was going on? He wasn’t imagining the sizzle of heat that leapt between them whenever they touched. He hadn’t missed the flash of something interested in her eyes. And he for damn sure wasn’t wrong about his own desire for the woman who had turned this trip upside down inside of a few hours. If he’d met her somewhere else, he would have tried to seduce her into a long weekend—and he had no doubt he would have succeeded.

So what was the problem?

“No sex.”

“That’s right.” She took a long breath and looked back into his eyes. “Why complicate things? This is a business arrangement, after all. It’s not a real marriage, so I don’t see why we should …”

“Have sex,” he finished for her, astonishment clear in his voice.

“Exactly.”

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

“It’s only for two months,” she pointed out, managing to sound both impatient and pained all at the same time. “Surely that won’t kill you.”

“I think I can manage to hang on,” he said, though silently he admitted that it wouldn’t be a party. He already wanted her and he’d only known her for a few hours. Being married to her, with her all the time … how much worse was this going to get over two months?

Maybe he should just make a call to Rico and find out if he was willing to put his hotel somewhere else. A moment later, though, he dismissed the idea. It was Tesoro or not at all. The island was perfect for their needs, damn it.

The island had a mystique with people. The hotel was old-school deluxe, but it was small and couldn’t support many guests. Since the island was privately held, anyone wanting to do business on Tesoro had to go through Walter Stanford. And he was a man who liked his privacy.

Which would be perfect for the exclusive resort the Kings were planning. The mega-wealthy would come here to play on the beach and enjoy the high life away from throngs of tourists and, most especially, paparazzi.

It was all perfect.

Except for the whole marriage thing.

“And,” she said, dragging his attention back to her.

“There’s more?” he asked with a short laugh. “What else is there? Got a dungeon you want to shut me up in? Or maybe you want me living on bread and water for a couple months?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous.” He shook his head and gave her an almost admiring glance. “You want us to be married. Living together. Putting on a ‘colorful truth’ for your grandfather—but none of the fun stuff.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and he knew for a fact that she was feeling what he was. So just how long would she last with this little celibacy rule? As that thought wandered through his mind, Sean smiled to himself. This, he thought, could get very interesting.

“This isn’t about fun—”

“Clearly,” he agreed.

Her lips thinned and her mouth worked as if words were trying to get out, but she refused to let them. Finally, though, she took a breath and said patiently, “It’s a small island, Sean. So you won’t be able to sleep with anyone else, either. My grandfather would find out and this whole thing would be over before it began.”

Sean stiffened at the insinuation. Sitting up straight, he laid both hands on the tabletop and leaned in toward her. Even riding that quick whip of anger, he kept his voice down. His gaze bored into hers as he said, “I. Don’t. Cheat. When I give my word, I keep it.”

Their gazes locked for several long seconds before she finally nodded. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to be clear about everything.”

He leaned back in his chair, gritting his teeth against the bubble of frustration inside him. “Fine. We’re clear.”

“And we still have a deal?”

He looked into those blue eyes of hers again and told himself this was surely a mistake. He felt it right down to his bones. But damned if Sean could see another way for him to get what he wanted.

“Yeah,” he said. “We have a deal.”

He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. Couldn’t believe he was going to get married. Again. And this one wouldn’t be any more real than the first one.

At least this time though, he’d know going in that the marriage would mean nothing.

Three

Walter Stanford was somewhere in his seventies, but his sharp blue eyes didn’t miss much. He was tall, with snowy white hair, a hard jaw and the bearing of a much younger man. He stood behind the wide desk in his library and looked at Sean with a cool, dispassionate eye.

Sean met the older man stare for stare, never blinking. He knew how to run a negotiation and knew all too well that the first man who spoke, lost power. So he kept quiet and waited for the older man to say something.

Walter Stanford’s suite took up half of the entire top floor of the hotel, with Melinda’s private quarters in the other half. It was old-world elegant, again with just a touch of shabbiness. As if the place had seen better times. Sean had to wonder if the old man was as wealthy as rumor suggested.

He had noticed a couple of telltale water marks on the ceiling, proof of a leaky roof that hadn’t been fixed in time. And there were other things too. Nothing over the top, he thought, just tiny warning flags. Scars on the wood floors, chipped molding, window casements where the plaster had crumbled.

Of course, none of that proved anything. All it might mean was that Walter Stanford was simply too busy or too uninterested to make the dozens of minor repairs buildings always required. Or, he thought, it could mean that the old man needed this hotel deal far more than he wanted the Kings to know.

Sean smiled to himself, but kept his expression carefully neutral.

“You’ve met my granddaughter,” Walter said, taking a seat in the bloodred desk chair.

“Yes. She seems … nice,” he offered, enjoying using her own word.

The three of them had spent the last twenty minutes chatting and talking about the island. Melinda had left the room just a moment ago and, Sean thought, Walter wasn’t wasting any time.

“Let me be frank,” the older man said, setting his elbows on the desktop and steepling his fingers. “You want to build a hotel on my island. I want my granddaughter happy.”

Sean took a seat in the chair opposite the desk and set one foot atop the other knee and prepared to play dumb. “What’s one have to do with the other?”

Walter gave him a smile and a wink. “You’re single. Wealthy. Reasonably good-looking.”

Wryly, Sean said, “Thank you.”

Tucking his fingertips beneath his chin, Walter continued. “I believe in laying my cards out on the table, how about you?”

“Always best to know what the other man’s holding.”

“Excellent. Then let’s get down to business. I want you to marry my granddaughter. Once you’ve done that, the land is yours.”

If Melinda hadn’t prepared him for this yesterday, Sean thought, he would have fallen out of his chair. Even prepared, even with a deal already in place, he was a little surprised. Amazing to think that in the twenty-first century, women were still being bartered.

Of course, this woman had done the bartering herself and damned if she hadn’t negotiated a hell of a deal.

Walter was waiting for an answer and Sean let him wait. His brain raced with the implications of what he was about to agree to. Getting married, even temporarily, was a huge step. He didn’t want to, but he had spent the better part of last night lying awake trying to come up with a different way to get what he wanted—and he’d come up empty.

Just as, no doubt, Melinda had known he would.

The Stanfords, both of them, were stubborn enough to be Kings.

Tapping his fingers against his knee, Sean asked, “How does Melinda feel about this?”

Walter frowned briefly. “She understands. It’s good for her. Good for the family. Good for the island.”

Unexpectedly, a ripple of anger washed through Sean. If Melinda hadn’t stepped up to chart her own course and make her own deal with Sean, she would have been no more than a bound sacrifice, stretched out across the Stanford altar.

Good for the island.

Who did things like that now?

Frowning, Sean watched the older man and tried to read his eyes. But the old guy must have been a hell of a poker player back in the day. His expression gave away nothing.

“Well?” The older man dropped both hands to the black blotter on his desk. “What do you say?”

There was a lot he should say, Sean thought. He should tell the old man that his granddaughter was worth more than a bargaining chip to be used in a deal. Hell, a couple of hours spent with her had told Sean that much. He should say that Melinda had a sharp mind and a clever way of driving a bargain. He should tell both of the Stanfords to go to hell and take their island with them.

He’d love to tell him that his granddaughter was filling up his mind with tempting thoughts that were destined to go nowhere. That one touch of her hand was enough to set off fires inside him that were still burning hours later.

But he couldn’t tell him that either, so Sean would say nothing about any of it.

“Agreed,” he heard himself say and saw the flicker of surprise in the old man’s eyes. Apparently, he couldn’t disguise everything he was feeling. Or didn’t care to.

“Really. That easily?” He leaned back in his chair and the springs creaked. “You’ll forgive me, but I’m curious as to your quick acceptance.”

Sean smiled. “Changing your mind already?”

“Not at all.” Walter spread his hands wide. “I only thought it would take more to convince you.”

“Melinda’s a beautiful woman,” he said, remembering the flash of her blue eyes as she looked at him before leaving the room a few minutes ago.

“She is—but there’s more to her than her beauty,” her grandfather pointed out.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Sean agreed, though he already knew firsthand just what a clever mind Melinda had. “Once we’re married, we’ll have plenty of time to find out all about each other.”

“Hmm …”

“I assume you’ve already checked me out,” Sean said. Knowing Melinda had researched him assured Sean that her grandfather had done so as well.

“I have.”

Sean nodded. “You made the offer. I accepted. End of story.”

Walter was watching him as if waiting for Sean to change his mind. Sean fought another smile. The man had wheeled and dealed his granddaughter to a stranger and now that the stranger had agreed, the old man was having second thoughts? Too late for that. They had a deal and the Kings would soon be arriving to get the project underway.

Pushing up from his chair, Sean stretched out his right hand and said, “I’ll just go tell my bride the good news. Then I’ll phone my brothers and let them know we can get started on the hotel right away.”

Walter stood up too, took Sean’s hand and shook it. When he released him again, the older man said, “You can start construction the day after the wedding.”

Both of Sean’s eyebrows went up. “Don’t trust me to go through with it?”

“If I didn’t trust you,” Walter said softly, “you wouldn’t be marrying my granddaughter. Let’s just say I prefer to have all of my bases covered.”

“Fine,” Sean agreed with a nod. “I’ll have our lawyers fax you the paperwork this afternoon.”

“And my lawyer will have a contract for you to sign as well.”

Sean’s gaze locked with the older man’s and for just an instant, there was a silent conversation between them. Two men, each of them powerful, each of them walking into this bargain with their eyes wide open and each of them thinking about the woman at the center of it all.

Hope you know what you’re starting here.

You and my granddaughter will work out fine.

If that’s what the old guy believed, Sean thought grimly, then he was way off base. And for just an instant, he felt guilty about tricking Walter Stanford. Then he remembered it hadn’t been his idea and if Melinda was comfortable with this setup, then why should he mind?

Sean smiled. “I’ll go see Melinda and tell her it’s settled.”

“Fine, fine,” Walter told him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Perhaps you could join me later for a private dinner where we can discuss your plans for the future? Shall we say seven? Here, in my suite?”

Sean eyed the older man. “Sure, I’ll see you later, then. Meanwhile, I’m guessing you’ll handle all the details of the wedding?”

Walter nodded. “By the end of the week, you’ll be a married man.”

End of the week.

That rang a gong with the tone of finality inside his head. But Sean ignored it. He’d made his decision, and he wouldn’t go back on it now.

“Melinda’s a strong woman with a good heart. See that you remember that.”

“I will.” Sean left the room then, in search of the ‘good-hearted’ bride who drove a bargain like no one else he had ever known.

The next morning was a disaster.

Sean stared at his computer screen, waiting for his phone call to go through. He caught his own reflection staring back at him and winced. Even in the hazy mirror of the screen, he looked like death. That would teach him to drink brandy with an old man who probably had the stuff flowing through his veins.

But Stanford had wanted to toast their bargain. Since this was supposed to be real, Sean hadn’t been able to think of a reason not to. Hours later, after listening to stories of island life and Melinda’s childhood, all washed down with glass after glass of expensive brandy, Sean had staggered to his room.

He’d lain awake, waiting for the room to stop spinning before finally falling asleep. Then he’d been chased in his dreams by a wildly laughing Stanford waving a giant brandy bottle at him while Melinda threw bouquet after bouquet at his head.

“Don’t even want that dream analyzed,” he murmured.

All he really wanted at the moment was to quiet the jackhammers behind his eyes. He coughed and his head almost exploded. Moaning softly, he was reaching for a bottle of aspirin when his brother Rafe’s face came up on the screen.

“Sean—” He paused and frowned. “Damn. You look like hell.”

Thanks to videophone conferencing, there was no disguising his hangover. For the first time in his life, Sean cursed technology. “Yeah, thanks Rafe. Nice to see you, too.”

His brother’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Are you hungover?”

“Brilliant observation,” Sean said tightly as he struggled with the cap on the aspirin bottle. Childproof, okay. But did they have to seal the damn thing as if it contained the nuclear codes for Armageddon?

“Hard to miss, what with the dark circles under your eyes and the way you’re cringing in the sunlight like a vampire away from his crypt.”

God, why hadn’t he waited to call until later? Or at least closed the drapes? Well, he knew why he hadn’t done that. It had just seemed too taxing at the time.

“What’s going on?” Rafe asked. “Did you get the deal?”

“The deal. About that …”

“Damn it, Sean,” Rafe shouted.

“Can you dial it down a notch or two?” Sean rubbed at the spot between his eyes even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He finally managed to get the aspirin bottle open and tapped two tablets onto his palm. Then he tapped out two more. Desperate times.

He washed them all down with a long gulp of water from the bottle on his desk and prayed they were miracle aspirins, about to kick in and restore him to health in the next thirty seconds.

No luck.

Rafe grumbled, took a breath and said, “Fine. I’m calm. Now tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” Sean said, rubbing his eyes. “And I’d rather tell it only once. Is Lucas in the office?”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Rafe muttered, “but yeah. He’s here.” Reaching to one side of his desk, he hit a button and said, “Marie, get Lucas in here, will you? Thanks.”

“Marie? New assistant?” Sean asked.

“Yeah,” Rafe admitted. “Katie insisted I hire somebody to help me so I can get home in time for dinner every night.”

His brother might sound like he was complaining, but Sean knew how nuts about his wife Rafe really was. And who could blame him? Rafe could be a pain in the ass at times, but his wife was a peach. Not to mention, she made the best cookies in the known universe.

“How’s Katie?” Sean managed to ask.

“She’s great,” Rafe said and a soft smile curved his mouth. Amazing the changes Katie had made to the formerly surly Rafe King. “She says I should tell you she’s saving a batch of her pistachio chocolate mint cookies for you.”

Sean swallowed hard. Ordinarily, that would have been a nice surprise. At the moment though, it felt like live snakes were writhing in his belly. Still, it was the thought that counted. “Tell her thanks.”

Rafe frowned at Sean’s less than enthusiastic reply, then waved Lucas over when he came into the room. In a second or two, Lucas was sitting beside Rafe so that both of them could be seen.

“Damn,” Lucas said, pulling his head back in shock. “You look like hell.”

Sean sighed. “That’s the consensus. How’s the baby?”

“Danny’s great,” Lucas said, grinning. “I swear he said Daddy this morning.”

Sean laughed and was rewarded with another jolt of pain. Since his new nephew was barely three months old, that wasn’t likely. But Lucas was convinced his son was a genius. And who was Sean to argue?

“On topic, guys? Are you out there partying with some blonde when you should be doing business?” Rafe asked.

“Because the blondes can wait until we get the damn land,” Lucas put in.

“He doesn’t need to be dating any blondes when he’s there to work,” Rafe argued.

“I agree, but he’s not dead and he’s not married, Rafe. God, I thought Katie had lightened you up a little.”

“I don’t need lightening up.”

His brothers’ voices were getting louder and the pain in Sean’s head just kept growing. He tried to tune out the argument taking place back in Long Beach, California. But Kings were hard to ignore. Even for one of the family.

Rafe and Lucas could go on for hours and Sean knew it. Their argument would slide from Sean to their current project and might even drift to old grudges from when they were all kids.

He smiled in spite of his headache. All of his brothers were close. Their father, Ben King, had never married any of the women who bore his many sons, but every summer, he gathered his sons together at his ranch in California. For three months every year, the King boys were real brothers and they had forged a bond that had only gotten stronger over the years.

Sean’s smile faded a bit as he thought about his parents. Ben had done the best he could, he knew. But Sean’s mother had been too fragile to deal with life. Too … breakable to leave the man she had eventually married, even when the abuse began and—

“Sean!”

He came up out of the misery of his memories with a grateful start. Looking at his brothers’ identical expressions, he cleared his throat and said, “There is no blonde.”

“Well that’s something anyway,” Rafe muttered.

“She’s got black hair,” Sean said. But that didn’t describe Melinda’s hair either. More like the color of deepest night, when a man’s dreams and fantasies came to life. When a woman with eyes like hers and a touch that was all heat could turn even the strongest man into Jell-O.

He sighed, letting her memory fill his mind and reverberate throughout his body. This was going to be a long couple of months, he told himself. Not being able to touch her was going to take every ounce of self-control he possessed. Because he had known her for about twenty-four hours and already wanted her. Bad.

“I knew there’d be a woman,” Lucas said, almost proudly. But then, Sean thought, maybe his brother was living vicariously now that he was married.

“Let him talk.” The voice of reason from Rafe. Amazing, Sean thought. Katie really was a miracle worker.

“I thought we were meeting about the hotel project,” Lucas grumbled. “I’m not interested in hearing about Sean’s latest conquest.”

That was all it took for the two of them to run away with the conversation again. If he were back home, in the office, Sean would be munching on cookies and using his smartphone to check in on customer bases and suppliers. Here, he was lucky just to be sitting upright.

Sunlight was bright in the hotel room, but thankfully, the desk where he was sitting was positioned so that his back was to the bay window. He knew that out the window lay a fantastic view of the harbor and pristine aqua-blue ocean, if he was interested—which he wasn’t at the moment. It was way too bright out there.

His hotel room at the Stanford hotel was the kind of plush he could only guess would have been considered five stars fifty years ago. Their one big concession to modern life seemed to be the high-speed internet service and the minibars. Otherwise, he might have been on an old movie set.

There were no flat-screen TVs or high-end bathrooms or, hell, even hairdryers or in-room coffee setups. And yet, there was something quietly … elegant here that no modern hotel could ever hope to claim.

“Okay, fine,” Lucas was telling Rafe. “I’ll listen to Sean if you’ll keep quiet.”

Sean laughed, then winced as his headache pounded.

“What’s this about Sean?” Rafe asked in a quiet, even tone that had Sean silently thanking him.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” he admitted. It had been a wild twenty-four hours and he wasn’t sure even he completely believed what had happened.

“Start with the land,” Lucas prodded. “Do we have the deal or not?”

Sean pulled in a deep breath, then took another long gulp of water while his brothers waited impatiently.

“Well?” Rafe asked.

Snorting a choked-off laugh, Sean said, “There’s some good news and some bad news.”

“Perfect,” Rafe muttered.

“Start with the good,” Lucas told him. “It’ll give me strength for the rest of it.

“Okay, good news is, we got the deal.”

Rafe and Lucas both laughed in relief. “Well, why the hell didn’t you say so?” Rafe crowed.

“I knew you could do it,” Lucas said. “I told Rose just last night that nobody can stand against Sean when he turns on the King charm.”

“Hmm …” He would have agreed a couple of days ago. But, since meeting Melinda Stanford, he had to admit that his charm apparently had limits. She hadn’t proposed to him because she was blown away by his wit and seductive powers. And she sure as hell wasn’t tumbling into his bed. Yet.

“Okay,” Rafe said. “Let’s have the bad news.”

“How bad can it be?” Lucas said, still grinning. “We got the deal. We can start construction right away and—”

“Let him finish,” Rafe said without taking his gaze from Sean’s.

Sean kept his eyes fixed on Rafe, since there was no point in trying to avoid it anyway. “Okay, the thing is, looks like I’m getting married.”

Silence.

His brothers just stared at him. Then they turned to look at each other before shifting their gazes back to Sean in a move that was so smooth it looked choreographed.

“Married?” Rafe said.

“Are you nuts?” Lucas asked.

“The black-haired woman?” Rafe asked.

“The very one,” Sean told them. “Melinda Stanford.”

“Walter’s granddaughter. That’s why the phone call.”

Sean looked at Lucas and nodded.

“You met her, fell in love and proposed all in twenty-four hours?” Rafe demanded, his voice hitching higher with every word.

Sean stiffened. “Who said anything about love?”

“Then what the hell, Sean?”

“I made a deal with Melinda. We get married, the Kings get the land.”

“Oh hell no,” Rafe argued. Clearly outraged, his spine went stiff and his chin jutted out as if he were stepping into a knock-down, drag-out fight.

“This is ‘taking one for the team’ to a whole new level,” Lucas put in.

Sean rubbed one hand across his face and prayed again that the aspirin he took would start working before his head exploded. “It’s done. I made the deal, and I’ll stick with it.”

“Why would you do that?”

He snapped, “I didn’t see any other way to get the property.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“No, I’m not,” Sean said, reeling in the irritation starting to churn inside. “It’s a temporary thing. Two months and we’ll get a divorce. But the Kings will still have the land.”

Lucas shook his head as if he couldn’t think of anything to say—which under other circumstances might have been funny. Rafe, on the other hand, wasn’t having that problem.

“You can’t do this, Sean,” he said tightly. “Getting married knowing you’re getting a divorce just isn’t—”

“What,” he asked, “right?”

“What I want for you,” his older brother finished pointedly. “When you get married it should damn well mean something.”

Sean gritted his teeth and bit back the words he wanted to say. That getting married didn’t mean anything to some people. That he’d already tried marriage a long time ago and wasn’t interested in repeating that mistake. That the only reason he had agreed to this farce was so that his family could get what they needed—and because he had an escape clause written into the bargain.

His brothers were happily married to wonderful women they each loved desperately. They would never understand Sean’s point of view. And why would they? His brothers didn’t know that Sean had already been married once before. In fact, no one knew about that very brief, very messy marriage and divorce and that was how he wanted it.

Kings made mistakes, sure. But they didn’t talk about them and they for damn sure didn’t share their feelings about them. It had been Sean’s mistake, and he’d cleaned it up. Dredging it back up now wouldn’t serve any purpose at all.

When he felt like he could speak without clenching his teeth even tighter, Sean said, “Don’t think of it as a marriage. Just a merger.”

“Damn strange way to do business,” Lucas muttered.

“Strange or not, we’re getting what we want out of it,” Sean told them. And that’s what he had to keep uppermost in his mind. This was for the Kings. For their future. Going into business on this hotel with their cousin Rico would take their construction company to an even higher level than where they already were and that was something that was worth any risk. “Walter’s going to have the deed to the property drawn up for our signatures before the wedding.”

“Which is when?” Rafe wanted to know.

“By the end of the week,” Sean said and swallowed hard as if there were a noose around his neck, tightening. Ridiculous. He had agreed to this, and he wouldn’t back out.

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