Last Resort: Marriage

“You’re not thinking clearly. Love clouds a woman’s judgment. I don’t want you hurt and I have to protect my business. I’ve worked too damn hard to risk some fortune hunter taking you to the cleaners.”

She twisted her napkin. If she didn’t know her grandfather had her best interest at heart, she’d reach across the table and yank his red power tie until his face matched.

“Aaron isn’t like that,” she said, although not more than fifteen minutes ago, he’d tried to do exactly that.

Edward pushed his chair back and stood. “He is and I can prove it.” With that parting shot, he turned and strode out of the restaurant.

AARON GLANCED UP FROM WORKING on his defunct engine and narrowed one eye as Edward Harrington boarded the Free Wind. One thing Aaron could say for the guy, he was better dressed than the typical clientele.

Harrington slid a leather checkbook from the breast pocket of his tailor-made jacket and flipped it open. “How much?”

Aaron grabbed a grease rag off his toolbox and wiped his hands as he stood. “Excuse me?”

“No games. How much to get you out of my granddaughter’s life? What’ll it take to make you disappear? Fifty thousand? A hundred?” Edward stared at him in disdain.

Nothing ever changed. He might as well be back on the streets of Miami with everyone who passed scowling at him as if he was slime that had washed in at high tide.

A flock of seagulls squawked overhead. Harrington glanced up and frowned as if he expected them to shut up on command. “A working-class man like yourself meets a woman of Charlotte’s means and sees an opportunity to make a fortune.” He scoffed at the greasy tools scattered across the deck and took a slender gold pen out of his pocket. “Well, she’s not as vulnerable as you thought. You’ve got to deal with me. Two hundred thousand?”

Two hundred thousand?

Harrington nailed him with a stare, waiting for him to bite. Aaron pictured all the new equipment that much money could buy. Hell, he could get a new boat.

“Come on, Mr. Brody, every man has a price. Give it up. I’m not having my granddaughter taken by a two-bit crook.”

Harrington’s smug confidence burned his ass. Thought his fat bank account gave him the power to control the world. “Do you need a step-by-step diagram of where to stick that checkbook?”

Aaron had the pleasure of watching Edward’s self-assured smirk fade as he replaced the checkbook in his pocket and strolled off the Free Wind.

He was going to hate himself in the morning. But hell, once Charlie told her grandfather she’d broken off the engagement the check would be about as worthless as his archaic engine anyway.

Chapter Two

“I may have been a bit rash in judging your fiancé,” Edward admitted as he folded himself into the wing chair across from Charlotte’s desk.

Her fingers stilled over her keyboard. “You’re admitting you were wrong?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He held up one hand. “But I’m willing to give him a chance.”

She shut down the spreadsheet she’d been staring at. What had transpired between him and Aaron?

“Let’s face facts. To my knowledge, the only serious relationship you’ve ever had was with Perry. And look how you handled that.”

Nibbling her lip, she told herself he didn’t mean that quite how it sounded. He didn’t know the full story. But then, she’d never actually leveled with him about Perry for fear of confirming his belief that women let emotions cloud their judgment.

“Getting along with people is not your forte.”

A true enough fact, but it stung just the same. The man was a master at capitalizing on people’s vulnerabilities. “Not my forte? I learned everything I know from you.”

“Don’t get upset. I’m trying to protect you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “From what?”

“Yourself.” He exhaled. “Now, you can marry your scuba diver—”

“I don’t need your permission.”

“No, you don’t.” Edward steepled his fingers. “But if you want this resort, you’ll listen to my proposal.”

She clenched her fists in her lap. As usual, everything had to be by Edward’s rules.

“Aaron passed the first test, but I’m far from convinced that romance is his driving force. Still, I’m willing to give the marriage a chance. If, after say six months, I’m satisfied as to Mr. Brody’s motives, I’ll sign the Marathon resort over to you, like I promised. At least you’ll have a means to support yourself.”

Aaron had been right. He was her best shot at ever owning the hotel. But could she marry and pretend to be in love for six months? Could Aaron? It shouldn’t be too difficult. They only had to put up a front when Edward was around, and he had twelve resorts demanding his time.

Edward cleared his throat. “Perry has agreed to stay on as your assistant manager. He’ll report directly to me.”

Her entire body tensed in outrage. She should have known he’d have a trump up his sleeve. “I don’t need Perry.”

“Take it or leave it.” He folded his arms. “I have to look out for you and protect my business.”

She bolted to her feet. “But I’ve been running this resort alone for almost five years.”

“I’m not sure you’re thinking with your brain at the moment,” he said. “Of course, Aaron will sign a prenuptial.”

“He already offered. I told him it wasn’t necessary.” If she was going to bluff, might as well pull out all the stops.

He looked at her as if she were some poor lovesick fool. “Oh, Charlotte!”

“I’m not as naive about men as you think. I know my fiancé.” She could handle Aaron Brody. On the other hand, she thought, remembering the kiss, maybe she was a poor lovesick fool.

CHARLOTTE STEPPED ON BOARD Aaron’s boat, half hoping he wasn’t there. Could she pull this off?

Easy to see why he needed the money. The Free Wind was a dilapidated fiberglass boat in desperate need of a face-lift. The hull had probably been white at one time, but had taken on more of a dirty yellow hue. The wood deck was warped.

She’d about decided the boat was deserted when she caught sight of him sitting behind a desk in a miniscule office.

The afternoon sun barely filtered through the salt-crusted window. He stood as she stepped through the door into the cramped, paneled office. “What did I do to rate two Harringtons in one day?”

She choked down her pride. “We’ll have to draw up a prenuptial agreement.”

Aaron frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“But ten thousand is my final offer.” She adopted her don’t-mess-with-me, business tone.

“Lady, I’ve been insulted enough for one afternoon. Take your money and do your husband shopping somewhere else.”

Humiliation burned through her. She couldn’t even buy a husband. Did he want her to beg? She shouldered her purse and turned to go.