Pamela Stone - Last Resort - Marriage

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.”

Aaron slowed the steps to a sway and placed his hand on her hip, moving her with him. Other couples joined them on the dance floor and he held Charlie close. He could act the part of the adoring groom as well as the next guy. “Trust me. You show interest in anyone except me during this marriage, I’ll make it my business. Making a fool of me wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“Oh, and you’re going to stay celibate for the next six months?” Her eyebrows drew together and she eased out of his arms. “We should mingle with our guests.” She grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and left him alone in the center of dancing couples.

Charlie gulped down the gold liquid as Perry moved in her direction. He touched her shoulder and without hesitation, she set her glass down and moved into the slime-bag’s arms.

Aaron willed his fist to unclench.

He hadn’t counted on Thurman breathing down their necks. He narrowed his eyes as Thurman’s hand snaked up Charlie’s side and his thumb rubbed the underside of her breast. Before Aaron could react, she took Don Juan’s hand and placed it back on her waist. Okay, he couldn’t very well stop her from dancing with the snake, but he didn’t have to stand here and watch.

The last brilliant shades of sunset were fading from the sky when Aaron stepped outside. One smoke and a couple minutes to get his head straight, then he’d go back in and decide whether to deck Thurman or drag his bride out of his clutches. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the building. What had possessed him to agree to this?

As he took a drag and watched a kid on the beach feeding a flock of seagulls, he caught a glimpse of someone stepping onto the deck. He remained in the shadows and watched old man Harrington stop and take a couple of deep breaths. Edward pressed a hand to his chest, leaned against the rail, and dug something out of his pocket. The man looked pale as he tilted his head back and placed a pill in his mouth.