Home > The Temporary Mrs. King (Kings of California #10)(8)

The Temporary Mrs. King (Kings of California #10)(8)
Author: Maureen Child

“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 ‘goodhearted’ 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 hung over?”

“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?”

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