Pamela Stone - Last Resort - Marriage

She swallowed. Edward hadn’t exactly threatened that, but he always had an agenda. As, apparently, did Aaron. He was acting too sure of himself, too in control. “Were you eavesdropping?”

He quirked one eyebrow, but didn’t deny her accusation. His sneakers squeaked across the polished wood floor as he sauntered over to pick up a crystal paperweight off her desk.

“What do you want, Mr. Brody?”

He put the paperweight down and propped one khaki-covered hip on the corner of her imported, mahogany desk. “Same thing you do. To save my business.”

“I’m not following.”

He dug a crumpled pack of Camels and a red disposable lighter out of the pocket of his shorts and lit a cigarette.

Charlotte fanned her hand in front of her face. “Don’t smoke in here.”

He paused with the cigarette midway to his mouth and then took a long drag before pinching the fire out between his fingers and flicking it into her empty metal trash can.

“A hundred grand should get me back on the water in style.” Studying the smoke ring floating to the ceiling, he didn’t glance her way.

“You were eavesdropping. Don’t try to con me.”

“Careful. You’ll hurt my feelings.” One eyebrow arched. “Look, you need a husband to pacify the old man and save your hotel. I’ve got a boat that needs a major overhaul and my funds are tapped out. We need each other or we’ll both be out of business.”

She narrowed her eyes. “A hundred thousand dollars? You’re insane. I don’t need you that bad.”

“Yeah, you do. You marry that self-centered slick and Granddaddy will still be yanking your chain. Percy will lick that old man’s wing tips until he keels over. Your grandfather will probably even put the resort in Percy’s name.” He sat up straight and did a realistic impression of Edward. “Isn’t proper for a business to be in a woman’s name. The man runs things.” He turned and flashed an enigmatic grin. “But hey? You’ll be too busy popping out little Percys to have time to run a hotel, anyway.”

“Don’t be a wise guy,” she hissed. “And his name is Perry.” Interesting the way Aaron had pegged Perry in thirty seconds flat. Whereas her usually astute grandfather seemed to believe the guy had feelings for anything other than his bank account. Edward had substituted the brown-nosing smooth-talker for the son he’d lost. Perry excelled in every aspect where her father had fallen short. Advanced degree in hotel management, professional appearance, and above all, a willingness to dedicate every waking minute to the Harrington empire. Perry hadn’t been born a Harrington, but it was almost as if he’d been vaccinated with Edward’s DNA.

Aaron grinned. “Think about it. We stay married a few months. I keep out of your hotel business and put my boat back in shape. Grandfather backs off. We get a quiet divorce and everybody’s happy. Beautiful plan.”

“Ten thousand for a pretend engagement.”

“Come on, Charlie.” He shook his head. “Short of marrying Percy, I’m your best shot at ever owning this place.”

“I’ll pay Edward the hundred thousand as a down payment and buy the resort. I don’t have to marry either of you.”

“Think of it this way. The resort is worth what, a hundred times that? You’ll be paying on the loan for years. And as long as you’re single, your grandfather will be riding your case about getting married and having a family. Pacify the old man. Marry me and he’ll sign the hotel over to you.”

“No. I’ll figure out something,” she said, although no immediate alternative came to mind.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Granddaddy’s going to be disappointed when there’s no nuptials tomorrow.”

“What do you expect after your brash announcement?” she snapped. “I’ll just have to explain.” Somehow.

“You need me, Charlie.”

She nodded toward the door. “Get out, Mr. Brody. I’m not marrying you or anyone else.”

EDWARD STOOD AS SHE TOOK her seat across from him in the hotel restaurant. “Where’s your fiancé?”

How could she tell him she’d lied about the engagement without making him so suspicious he’d never agree to sell her the resort? “Aaron had to arrange for someone to take his tour.” She glanced around. “No Perc—Perry?”

“I told him to make himself scarce. Charlotte, are you certain about marrying this man? I’ve never heard you mention Aaron Brody until today.”

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

“As I’m sure there are things you don’t know about your fiancé.”

This was probably her best opening. “Look, Edward—”

“I don’t trust this guy. He’s seeing dollar signs.”

“Perry’s the one seeing dollar signs.”

“Just because the man hurt your pride in college is no call to be snide. He’s grown up. So should you.” He leveled his gaze. “If I truly believed Aaron was in love with you, I’d be delighted. But…”

“You don’t believe he could love me?” Maybe she wasn’t the type men typically craved in their beds, but she wasn’t exactly a dog, either.

“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.