The Temporary Wife (9 page)

None. Zero. Nada. Zip.

***

Meg sat on the bed in her cabin and looked out the large window across from her. This was, apparently, the VIP stateroom.

It was too bad she didn’t feel much like a VIP. With her rumpled wedding dress and her hair falling out of its pins, she looked more the part of the runaway bride, and right then she felt like running away, too. And that wasn’t like her in the least.

Meg wasn’t a crier and she wasn’t a pushover, but since Jason walked back into her life, she’d become both. He made all the decisions, had infiltrated every part of her life, yet she seemed to be kept distant from his. She almost called this whole thing off last week, and now she wished she had. Other than his partners, Harper was the only other one in his inner circle. Harper, with her straight, dark hair, her perfect size-two figure, and her designer wardrobe.
“Harper,”
Meg sneered. Even her name was stuck-up.

Jason had tried to downplay the relationship recently. He’d talked about her less and he’d stopped waving her credentials in Meg’s face. Meg always considered herself smart and well-educated—her master’s was from Columbia Teachers College—but next to Harper’s Harvard MBA, Meg felt like a high school dropout.

It didn’t help that neither one of them, Jason nor the Harpy, understood her job or why she did it. And that became obvious two days ago when she stopped off at the house before heading to the bank. She’d gotten paid, and for some reason the direct deposit wasn’t made in her account. When Harper got a look at her deposit slip and her paycheck, she laughed. “You actually go to work each day for
that
?”

It was a slap in the face, especially since Meg felt she did pretty well. But in Harperland, her salary probably looked like an allowance; after all, it was only “babysitting.”

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She knew for a fact that neither Jason nor Harper would survive for ten minutes with twenty five-year-olds. Forget teaching them anything.

There was a small dressing table tucked against the wall by the bathroom, and Meg moved to the padded stool, her large skirts swishing around her. Pressing her lips tight, she started to pull the pins from her hair.

Locks of hair were falling around her face, and her heart ached at the thought of another woman spending time with her husband. She and Jason weren’t a real couple, she knew that, and there was no way to get around the fact that at times they were barely even friends. But it was hard to think about getting close to someone when you knew it wouldn’t last and when there was someone else in the marriage from the very start.

And damn, as much as she didn’t want it to, it hurt.

Her hair fell around her shoulders—not straight, not perfectly coiffed and dignified, but a wild mass of curls and waves. She did look like a high-priced stripper, with her boobs popping out of her dress, her crazy hair, and her glittery shoes. What was she thinking?

More than that, what was Jason thinking? Probably that he’d been right to keep her from his friends all those years ago.

Bending her arms back, she tried to release her dress, but she realized she couldn’t do it herself. It was crushingly sad, because if she were a real bride, her husband would be undoing those buttons for her.

Instead, her husband was up on the deck, sipping champagne with Harper.

“Awesome,” she mumbled, and dropped her head on her arms. “I’m trapped in a designer wedding gown.”

There was a tap at the door, and before Meg could answer she saw Jason reflected in the vanity mirror. He’d taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He looked upset. And he looked gorgeous. Totally gorgeous.

Of course, he had every right to be upset, since he’d just married the Stripper Bride.

He set a glass of champagne on the table by the window and approached her. “It must have been hard to get your hair down.”

“Not that bad, but it’s all over the place. I do look like a pole dancer.”

“No, you don’t.” He sat on the bed. “You look hot, but you don’t look like a pole dancer.”

“A hooker, then?”

He laughed and gave her a good once-over. “Nah. Well . . .” He looked at her again. “Maybe a really expensive one.”

“At least I’m expensive.” Her mouth turned up, thankful she could find something to laugh about at a time like this. She glanced at his reflection and took a tissue to dab at her eyes. “Can you help me unbutton my dress?”

“Stuck?”

She nodded, and without hesitation, he moved directly behind her, pushed her hair aside, and started working the buttons.

“Harper left. She apologizes.”

Meg had just about died when Jason told her Harper knew the truth about their marriage, because with that knowledge Harper would always have the upper hand. “I know she thinks this is a terrible mistake, but I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

“Meg, don’t worry about what Harper thinks. She has some strong opinions on the arrangement, but intellectually she understands and she knows that we’re adults. She has no say in how we relate to each other.”

“She thinks I’m after your money.”

“Most people are, including Harper, which is why she’s suspicious of everyone else. But I know you’re not.”

“You do?”

He nodded. “That’s the last one,” he said, and Meg felt the cool air on her bare back. He stared at her in the mirror and then he leaned in and dropped a soft kiss right at the curve of her neck. It felt warm, sensual, full of promise.

She sighed.

Damn.
She was just too easy.

He leaned in and kissed her again, his hands pulling her hair to the side, giving him unfettered access. Meg, who at that point was channeling her inner newlywed, tilted her head to the side so he could get more. His hands had inched inside the bodice of her dress and were cupping her breasts, and his mouth was leaving a trail of soft wet kisses on her neck and shoulder.

Meg let her eyes drift open and she watched him seduce her.

Their refection was sensual, erotic. The top of her dress had fallen forward, leaving her in a frilly white strapless bra, her diamond necklace, and her dripping diamond earrings. His hands touched her skin with such tenderness, Meg was falling into a trance. She was panting, breathless, and the ache that had formed low in her belly cried out to be quieted and filled.

Only Jason could do that. Only him.

“You’re so beautiful, Meg. So beautiful. Like a dream.”

He changed position and scooted her from the bench to the bed, and then lowered her onto her back. Lying next to her, he continued to touch and kiss her into insanity.

This was her husband. This was seduction.

Her eyes were drifting shut, and she waited for the next touch, but instead felt him rise from the bed. Maybe he was getting undressed?

Bending over her, Jason kissed her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Morning!” Meg sat up, the cool breeze chilling her hot skin. “What do you mean, morning?”

“I can’t sleep with you. You’re too important to me, and it could ruin everything.”

He was being honorable?
Now?
That was the last straw. This was her honeymoon, and she wanted him. His honorable self-control could go to hell.

She blinked incredulously. “What was the point of all this?”

He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t help it. I get close and I want to touch you.”

“You want? Any thought about what I might want?”

“We need to be reasonable.”

There it was again.
Fucking reasonable.
He wanted reasonable? “Fine, but if you don’t want me to believe that you see me as a cheap slut, don’t treat me like one.”

He stood there, mouth open like a fish, shocked that there had been no scene, no blowup, just him getting called out.

“Good night, Jason.”

He left, and Meg peeled out of her dress before dropping onto the bed. There was a rumble and some movement, and she realized the boat was pulling away from the dock. The steward had told her they were heading north, stopping in Martha’s Vineyard, the Cape, Nantucket, and coastal Maine before turning around to head home.

This month had been full of stops and starts, and Meg realized that if she was going to come out of this with her heart intact, she had to stop falling prey to Jason’s games and take control of the situation. He liked to flirt and tease, but he never gave too much. He feigned nobility, concern, but Meg figured it was more about power.

She couldn’t allow it any longer. This was her life, and she’d let her out-of-control emotions get the best of her more than once. Maybe it was time to give Jason a run for his money. He wasn’t the only one who could play games.

Chapter 9

Meg awoke to a knock on her door and the sun streaming in the cabin window. “Come in?”

Who was knocking, and what the hell time was it?

“Good morning, Mrs. Campbell. I have some breakfast for you.”

The steward wheeled in a cart covered with goodies. “Mr. Campbell said you have a bit of a sweet tooth, so I brought muffins and pastries, but if you’d like, I can order something else from the galley.”

Yanking the covers up, she smiled at the choices in front of her. “Is there coffee with all those yummy things?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “Would you like to fix it yourself?”

“Yes, that’s fine. This is lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He poured some coffee into a large mug.

“What’s your name?” The gentleman was in his midforties, maybe, and his accent was all New York.

“Robert, Mrs. Campbell. Would you like anything else?”

“No, thank you, Robert.”

“There’s a button on the phone that you can press should you need anything. Don’t hesitate to ask. We’ll be docking in Martha’s Vineyard in about an hour. Mr. Campbell said it’s a nice day for a bike ride, if you’d like to join him.”

“Sounds like fun. I’ll be ready.” She sank back into her pillows when he left and wondered whose life she’d hijacked. Breakfast in bed, a steward at her beck and call, a new place every day? Good God, this was not normal. Normal people didn’t live like this.

Meg picked a chocolate croissant from the basket and took a small bite. It was warm, and the chocolate oozed over her tongue and lip in a sensuous dance of flavors and textures. She finished it and went for something else. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry, but since it had been twelve hours since she’d last eaten, she shouldn’t be surprised.

Her sleep had been interrupted by some very erotic dreams. Dreams where Jason didn’t stop and walk away, but stayed with her and made love to her until dawn. It was an exquisite dream . . . unrealistic, based on how their wedding night had gone, but totally worth every fitful bit of sleep.

He knew exactly how to push her buttons, and all she wanted was to be able to return the favor. The bastard always seemed to have the upper hand, and Meg was getting sick of it.

Be reasonable,
he’d say. What did that mean? Hide from your feelings? Pretend things didn’t exist? Think like a machine? No, after last night, Meg had decided that today was the day the teacher was going to give the CEO a little lesson.

***

Jason waited on the dock for Meg, knowing everything he did was going to piss her off. He’d really screwed up the night before, and the least he could do was give her a nice few days. A quiet few days. A few days where he kept his hands to himself.

Meg was like a magnet. The pull toward her was harsh and physical, and what they both needed was a distraction. A bike ride, a nice lunch, some sightseeing, some shopping—that would cheer her up.

Then he saw her walk down the gangway, looking cuter than should be legal, her blond locks pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a pair of khaki capris with a long-sleeve navy blue T-shirt. It was preppy and conservative and completely at odds with the woman he knew lived in that body.

She glided toward him all curvy and pretty, looking like she belonged back in a designer gown, dripping with diamonds. Then the toe of her sneaker caught and she pitched forward, landing neatly in his arms.

So much for keeping his hands off of her. Meg looked over the top of her sunglasses and bit those luscious lips, and if Jason didn’t start thinking about main servers and syslogs, he’d lose control completely. Just looking at this woman, he was dead in the water. Jesus Christ.

“Sorry,” she laughed, straightening. “I told you the shoes wouldn’t matter.”

Jason looked at her feet and smiled. She was wearing basic white Nikes, not a stiletto in sight, and she still almost face-planted.

“You need walking lessons.”

“Sure you want me to ride a bike? I might hurt someone.”

He took her elbow and moved along the pier. “You won’t hurt anyone, because I’m driving.”

“Excuse me?”

He pointed to their means of transportation for the day. A tandem bike.

Meg stopped. “Good grief. You really are a control freak.”

“No,” he said. “But I do fear for your life. You’re my responsibility now, so hop on and don’t forget your helmet.”

“I’m responsible for myself.” She folded her arms and tossed her head back. The stubbornness was so her, and he’d expected it. “I’m getting my own bike.”

Meg stormed off and headed down the dock toward the bike rental shack. Jason leaned against a pylon. He could have gone after her, but she needed to do this herself. Fine, she’d figure it out soon enough. All he wanted to do was make things easier for her. But no, everything was a federal case, an issue about her independence. Meg needed to face it—they’d both lost their independence the minute his parents decided to go after Molly.

Jason looked around, checked his watch, and almost looked in the water, wondering if Meg had tripped and fallen into the bay. Finally, he saw her dragging her ass back up the pier. No bike in sight.
Ha!

“Where’s your bike?”

“Shut up.”

“Shut up?” He followed her to a bench where she plopped down and folded her arms. “Is that any way to talk to your new husband?” Jason reached for her hand, but she yanked it away. “No bikes left?” he asked.

“No. But you knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?”

Meg leaned her head back on the bench and sighed. Not fighting back was her way of conceding the argument. Jason decided not to press his luck any further and let it all go.

“It’s so pretty here,” she said.

“It is. Want to take a ride and check things out?”

“Okay, but it’s going to make me crazy that I can’t steer.”

He smiled and stood, taking her hand, and loving the feel of her soft skin, as he led her to the tandem bike. Meg, being Meg, was still sulking because she’d been called on her bullshit.

He plopped her helmet on her head, and while she strapped hers on, he did the same for his own. Still, she wasn’t talking. Damn, the woman was stubborn. So freaking stubborn. But it was good. Every time he pissed her off, he saw her spirit, her fire, and he liked that. He liked that she could give him a fight.

“What would you like to do, head to the beach, see the town, shop?”

“Let’s head toward town,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Okay. Ready?” He was set on his seat, and she was balancing as best she could. Not delaying, Jason pushed off, and Meg picked up her feet and squealed.

“You could warn me, you know!”

“I did. Don’t be a baby.”

“Oh, God. Jeez! Ahhhh.”

“Calm down! The bike is wobbling.”

“Turn, turn! Oh, my God. We almost hit that old woman. Did you see that old woman? With the cane?”

How did he get himself into this? They should have been having a nice enjoyable bike ride, but no, Meg was a crazy person. She screamed again, right in his ear, and he was convinced she wouldn’t survive the afternoon.

Because it was quite possible he was going to kill her.

“Jason! Jason! OH MY GOD!”

“Would you stop it!” Jason steadied the bike once again and maneuvered them onto a smooth patch of road. She settled down when they were off the crowded wharf. They headed up Main Street, pedaling through the village, and the couple of times he glanced back she was looking around and he thought he saw a smile on her face. All he wanted was to make their time together pleasant. It seemed that, finally, he was succeeding.

They made a decision to tour town after they did some sightseeing, and rode for about forty minutes past white fences and stone walls. The foliage and fall flowers gave a warmth to the scene, and Jason remembered why he liked coming here so much. They pedaled past some beautiful homes with weathered gray shingles and cobbled driveways, and he thought he heard Meg sigh on more than one occasion.

Jason had planned on taking them on the loop past the West Chop Lighthouse. The road became less treed as they went north, and when they could finally see the water, Meg moved suddenly and they almost pitched off the bike.

“Stop, stop!”

He pulled to the side of the road and turned around to see her hop off the bike and nearly break her neck climbing on a split rail fence by a grassy clearing that led to a beach.

“What the hell? Meg?”

“Look!” She pointed toward the water, and out in the distant blue he could see what had her so excited. A pod of dolphins was putting on a show, breaching the surface every few seconds. “That’s amazing!” She took her phone from her pocket and took a few photos, and it made Jason happy to see her so happy. It was an improvement from the last month when her moods changed like lightning.

“You might be able to see them up close if you get up early tomorrow morning. We’ll be cruising to the Cape, and they sometimes swim alongside the boat.”

“Really? Oh, I’m so getting up in the morning.”

They watched quietly for a couple of minutes, enjoying the breeze and the sound of the gulls that were circling by the beach. Meg turned and leaned back against the fence before tucking her phone back in her pocket. “Thank you for planning the trip. I’ve never been here before.”

“You’re welcome. What do you think about my buying a cottage up here?”

“To live?”

“Nah, for weekends, vacations.”

Her eyes brightened a little, excited about the possibility, but there was something tentative, and she hesitated before speaking. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m asking what
you
want. There’s an open house back the way we came if you’d like to stop in.”

She bit the tip of her thumb and nodded. This was when he felt bad, when he knew she didn’t feel like an equal because of the money. Meg would never ask him for a thing, yet he wished she would.

“Okay, good. Did you see the house?”

“I did, but do you need it?”

Jason smiled and took her hand as they walked back to the bike. “Everything isn’t always about needs, Megan. Sometimes you just want something.”

***

He bought a house.

Jason pulled open the door of the little café on the wharf and held it for Meg, while he thought about the fact that he just dropped millions of dollars on a waterfront “cottage” he might use a half a dozen times a year. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but watching Meg wander through the rooms, gazing out at the ocean, and seeing her fall in love with everything about the house had him slipping a note to the agent with a very generous offer on the property.

What he didn’t understand was why.

The hostess sat them in a booth that looked out at the water, and Meg was leaning close to the window to look at the waterfront. She surveyed the scene, taking in the fishing boats, the tourists, the townies, and a little to the east it was easy to see his boat at the marina, dwarfing everything around it.

“I like it here,” she said, flashing him a thousand-watt smile. “I’m glad we were able to get away.”

“Me, too, although I think I’m deaf from your screaming in my ear.”

Meg laughed, and Jason let her joy just seep into him. After a rocky start, this had turned out to be a nice day. He got to enjoy Meg’s laugh and he bought a house. He bought her a house.

“So what’ll you two be having?” Jason’s thoughts were interrupted by the waitress, who was somewhere between seventy and a hundred and four. Her name tag said
Jilly
.

Meg looked at the menu and smiled up at Jilly. “I’d love a burger. Medium, with cheese, bacon, mayo, and onion. Extra fries and a chocolate milk shake.”

“Good for you, honey,” Jilly said. “Most women tourists who come in here order salads and eat like birds.”

“Not me,” Meg said. “I like food too much.”

The waitress laughed, and Meg continued to chat her up. “How did you know we were tourists?”

“Well,” Jilly said, “I know a lot of people since I’ve been working here for forty years, and the way you’re taking everything in, you’re definitely tourists. Where are you staying?”

Meg grinned at Jason, and he answered. “Our boat is docked at the marina. We’re here for the day and heading to the Cape tomorrow.”

“Yeah? Did you get a good look at the yacht that came in last night? She’s one of the biggest we’ve seen in a long time. Eddie, he works down at the dock, he said it’s some oil tycoon who owns her. Said he’s here with his mistress.”

Jason was never surprised at the stories people made up, but Meg couldn’t contain her amusement. She cocked a brow in his direction. “His mistress, eh?”

“Yeah, you know the type. Young, blond, fancy. Someone saw her on the deck this morning. A real looker, apparently.”

“No sign of the tycoon?” Meg asked, barely controlling herself.

“Nah, no one caught sight of the old guy.”

Jason shook his head and put his menu down, subtly letting Jilly know he was ready to order. Once the waitress left the table, Meg burst into giggles.

“Well, at least I’m a looker. You’re just some old guy.”

“She must have been talking to Nate and Owen. They always call me the old man.”

Meg pushed her hair behind her ear. “That’s because you’re too serious. You always have been.”

“No. I can have fun, but . . .” He hesitated because he hated the thought of appearing weak, but this was Meg; she didn’t judge. She never had. “Growing up in my house kind of sucked the fun out of most things.”

“I can understand that. You did have a good time today, though, right?” she asked. “I did.”

He warmed from the inside out and reached across the table and took her hand. It was small and soft and fit into his perfectly.

Meg laced her fingers with his and gave a little squeeze, letting her eyes meet his. The smile never left her face. It brightened her, and he was glad to see it had returned.

***

Meg walked hand in hand with her husband after they returned the bike to the shop where Jason had rented it. The day had been perfect, and while Meg missed Molly terribly, she didn’t want to go back to civilization. She wanted to curl up next to Jason and enjoy the cool breezes and the quiet. It was rare that she experience quiet anymore, but here she was able to focus on her thoughts, not the noise that tended to drown them out.