One
“I think we should get married.”
Sean King choked on his sip of beer. Slamming the icy bottle down onto the polished teak bar, he coughed until tears filled his eyes. He was forced to blink them away to see the woman who had nearly killed him with six little words.
She was worth it.
Her hair was nearly as black as his. Her eyes were a softer blue than his own and her skin was a pale honey color, telling him she spent a lot of time outdoors. She had high cheekbones, delicately arched black brows and a look of fierce determination stamped on her features.
Something inside him stirred when she licked her lips and, just for a second, he let his gaze drop to appreciate the rest of her. She was wearing a lemon-yellow sundress that showed off a pair of truly amazing legs. Her sandals boasted bright white flowers positioned over toes that were painted bloodred.
Finally lifting his gaze to hers, he gave her a half smile and said, “Married? Don’t you think we should have dinner first?”
Her lips twitched briefly, then she shot a look at the bartender, as if assuring herself he was far enough away to not overhear her. “I know how strange that sounded.?…”
He laughed. “Strange is a good word for it.”
“…but, I have my reasons.”
“Good to know,” he said and lifted his beer for another sip. “Bye now.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re Sean King. You’re here to meet with Walter Stanford—”
Intrigued, Sean narrowed his eyes on her. “News travels fast on a small island.”
“Even faster when Walter is your grandfather.”
“Grandfather?” he repeated. “That means you’re—”
“Melinda Stanford, yes,” she finished for him, then glanced uneasily around again.
For the wealthy, pampered granddaughter of the man who owned this island, she seemed a little spooky.
“Look, would you mind if we took this to one of the tables? I’d really rather not be overheard.”
He could guess why. Proposing to a man you’d never met before wasn’t the most normal way of introducing yourself. Pretty, but she didn’t seem to be playing with all of her marbles. She didn’t wait for him to agree, just walked toward one of the half-dozen empty tables in the hotel bar.
Sean watched her, deliberating whether or not to follow her. Sure, she was gorgeous. But clearly she was a little unhinged, too.
She looked bright as a sunbeam sitting in the dark corner of the once elegant and now tired-looking bar. Thirty years ago, this place was no doubt considered top-of-the-line. But it had seen its day come and go and hadn’t tried hard enough to keep up.
Now, the wood floors had deep scars that several coats of polish couldn’t disguise. The walls were in need of fresh paint and the windows were too small. There were some nice touches though. Sort of art deco, Sean thought. The throughways were rounded at the top, arched with clean lines, which he liked. Round mirrors with tiled edges. Rectangular tables with bowed legs and mosaic inlaid surfaces. The wall sconces were Tiffany-esque with a modernistic thirties sense of style. It was beautiful, but definitely needed a face-lift. If it were his place, Sean would have taken out the front wall entirely and replaced it with glass, affording the patrons a spectacular view of the ocean. And he’d have clung to the art deco style and added a stained glass window filled with sharp angles and curves over the door. The hazards of running a construction company, he supposed. He was forever remodeling places in his mind.
But this wasn’t his bar and he had a beautiful, if a little weird, woman waiting on him. Since he wasn’t meeting Walter Stanford until the next morning and he had a few hours to kill anyway…Sean smiled to himself as he walked toward her.
He took a seat opposite her and leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. Holding his bottle of beer atop his flat belly, he tipped his head to one side, and studied her quietly, waiting for her to explain. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I know you’re here to buy the land on the North Shore.”
“Not exactly a secret,” he said, taking another sip of the icy beer. He took a quick look at the label. A local brew, it was exceptional. Once they got the go-ahead and Rico’s hotel was up and running, he’d tell his cousin to stock this beer in the bar.
Shifting his gaze to her, Sean shrugged. “It’s probably all over the island that the Kings are negotiating with your grandfather.”
“Yes,” she said, folding her hands together on the tabletop. Somehow, she managed to look both prim and incredibly sexy. “Lucas King was here a couple of months ago. He didn’t get very far with Grandfather.”
Irritating, but true.
In fact, Sean himself had already had one phone conversation with Walter and it hadn’t gone well. Which was the reason he was here, in person.
In the Caribbean, Tesoro was one of the smaller islands and privately owned. Walter Stanford was practically a feudal lord around here. He had his hand in most of the local businesses and guarded his island from newcomers like a pit bull at the end of a very short chain.
Sean’s cousin Rico King was bound and determined to expand his hotel empire and he wanted to build an exclusive resort here. On Tesoro. King Construction—Sean and his half brothers Rafe and Lucas—would be partners in the deal. But it wasn’t going to happen without that land. So for months, the Kings had been wheeling and dealing, trying to convince Stanford that a King hotel would mean great things for this island. New jobs, more tourists and plenty of money hitting local cash drawers.
Rico had been here himself to see the old man. Followed in quick succession by Sean’s brothers Rafe and then Lucas. Now it was Sean’s turn at bat, so to speak. He was the one sent in when things were looking bad. Sean’s charm and laid-back attitude were usually all it took to cinch a deal. He knew how to play hardball. He just never let others in on that secret.
“I’m not Lucas,” he said with confidence. “I’ll get the deal with your grandfather.”
“Don’t count on it,” she told him. “He’s very stubborn.”
“You don’t know the Kings,” he said. “We invented stubborn.”
She sighed and leaned toward him. The deeply scooped neckline of her sundress dipped, giving him a peek at her full br**sts and just the smallest hint of a lacy bra. Sean reluctantly shifted his gaze to hers when she started speaking again.
“If you really want the land, there’s a sure way to get it.”