Last Resort: Marriage

She hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe she could faint and save herself from this self-inflicted lunacy. Except she’d never fainted, not once in her entire life, so the chances of that feminine ploy saving her from this fiasco seemed remote.

A resort wedding created excitement, but today’s crowd seemed unusually enthusiastic. Guests stopped to smile and applaud as she passed. Aaron’s friends and a handful of her employees waved from the deck. Strange time to realize she didn’t have any friends, only business acquaintances.

Charlotte had always clung to the idea that if she ever did marry, it would be to a man she loved. A fat brown pelican taunted her from the corner post of the dock. So much for her one girlish fantasy. Clutching her grandfather’s arm, she took a tentative step onto the yacht. A step away from her safe world. A step toward her new life as a deceiver.

The bridal march began. Her eyes searched out Aaron standing at the front of the boat. She let out a relieved breath. He’d actually shown up.

It took a minute to recognize him. He looked elegant in a formal black tux. Like a gentleman—suave, calm, almost eager. A flicker of surprise crossed his face before the charming smile returned. His eyes smoldered as she walked down the short aisle.

Aaron swallowed a lump in his throat as he watched Charlie approach. My God, she’s regal. She radiated class from her upswept hair to the tip of her white sandals. Tall and slender, back straight as a soldier, head held proud, and wearing a flimsy white dress that rustled and clung to her curves as she glided toward him.

Tempting cleavage peeked out above the square neckline. Her arms were bare. Too bad the dress covered so much of her legs.

A few wispy strands of dark blond hair curled down her back and at her temples. Tiny white flowers cupped one side of her face in a gentle caress. She looked beautiful. Scared to death, but beautiful.

He crooked his arm and her grandfather placed her small hand on his forearm. Covering her slender fingers, he leaned close. “Slow and easy, Charlie.”

Barely listening to Johnny’s words as the ceremony progressed, he tamped down an unexpected surge of panic. He was getting—he swallowed—married. Married to a sophisticated heiress.

She had a wall full of diplomas and he hadn’t finished high school. He tugged at his constricting collar, reminding himself of the papers he’d signed today. He sure as hell hoped that lawyer of hers had been on the level when he’d explained the agreement, but Charlie would have turned gray at the altar waiting for him to muddle through all those legal terms.

A hundred thousand dollars, Brody.

Johnny cleared his throat and Aaron realized everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to speak. Charlie focused straight ahead, but her manicured fingernails dug into his arm.

“I do.”

The sound of released breaths, a few feminine sighs, and then Johnny recited some gibberish about rings being the symbol of eternity never broken.

Aaron took the ring out of his jacket pocket and slipped it onto Charlie’s finger. “It was my mother’s.” Why had he told her that?

She frowned at the cheap, tarnished band. Had she expected him to drop a bundle on a diamond?

“You may kiss your bride.”

Placing one hand at the small of her back, he slid his other around her shoulders. Her eyes were huge as they stared up at him. They were the most incredible shade of brown. Dark and rich like the first cup of morning coffee, a shade shy of black. Whether it was the apprehension in her expression or her racing heart, holding her was like holding a captive bird. He wasn’t sure if that was what turned him on, but something did. And she was his wife. For a few months, anyway.

He blinked and diverted his attention to her full lips. Pouting lips that turned down at the corners, waiting for him to take possession. His mouth closed over hers, gentle at first. The tip of his tongue teased her glossy lips apart.

Her body melted, becoming soft and pliant. He was amazed how small her waist was before his hands slid lower to pull her close. That frigid professional aura hid an exceptionally feminine body. Even her scent was an intoxicating fusion of self-assurance and vulnerability.

“Mmm,” she whispered.

That faint murmur made his brain fuzzy. He lost track of time acquainting himself with the phenomenon that was his wife. Her fingers curled around his neck and her tongue ventured out to meet his.

Charlie’s active participation in what started out as a simple kiss caught him off guard.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Brody.”

Aaron drew away from her mouth and took her hand. Cheers went up. Flower petals rained from the sky like a soft summer shower, blanketing the deck of the yacht in bright, fragrant color.

He looked at Charlie and winked.

They led their guests along the rambling sidewalk, across a narrow bridge that spanned the pool, and into the ballroom.

Mounds of delicacies adorned white linen-covered tables. Soft jazz filtered through the air from a band hidden away in the corner.

He put his arm around her waist as old man Harrington directed them to form a receiving line. Her expression hadn’t changed since she’d plastered on the China doll smile when Johnny pronounced them husband and wife.

Typical of the Keys, people took their time stopping to chat and congratulate them. She fidgeted and twisted her new ring. He hadn’t expected cool, calm, in-control Charlotte Harrington to get so uptight carrying out her calculated scheme.

He flagged down a waiter, snagged a glass of champagne, and offered it to his wife. His wife. “Take a sip. It’s hot in here.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

He took a drink and held the glass to her lips. “It’ll calm your wedding nerves.”

Taking the glass, she scowled. “It is warm.”

Aaron nodded at a passing waiter. “Could you see about cranking the air conditioner up a notch or two?”

“Yes, sir, right away.”

Rosa and Raul were the last to make their way through the line. Rosa kissed first the bride then Aaron’s cheek.

Raul’s smile sparked pure devilish enjoyment as he shook Aaron’s hand and leaned close. “Your wife is muy elegante.”

His friend was betting he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. He was careful that only Raul saw his obscene hand gesture. “Yes, she is.”

Raul slipped his arm around Rosa, as if they’d never divorced, and strolled away. Would he and Charlie be friends after their divorce? Aaron took his bride’s hand and raised his voice. “Let’s get this party rocking.” He nodded to the band and squeezed her hand. “May I have the pleasure of the first dance, Mrs. Brody?”

She hesitated. Would she actually turn him down?

“Come to me, beautiful lady.”

She came into his arms stiff and unsmiling, but into his arms all the same.

“Don’t overdo it,” she warned, before turning to grace the room with her plastic smile.

He led her onto the empty dance floor. The lights dimmed and it only took a second to recognize the band’s mellow rendition of “Strangers in the Night.” He had to laugh at the appropriateness. Had Charlotte picked it? More than likely Johnny or Raul had put them up to it.

Their bodies meshed from chest to knee, but her steps remained stilted. “Relax, sweetheart.”

“Call me sweetheart one more time and I’ll go dance with Edward.”

“He’s talking to Percy.” He considered Perry Thurman. “Not going to dance with my competition tonight, are you?”

“He was never anyone’s competition. And besides, who I’m interested in isn’t your concern.”