Marrying for King's Millions / The Spanish Aristocrat's Woman: Marrying for King's Millions. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ to tug up the bodice, but it fell back into place again, displaying a little too much cleavage for comfort.

      Too late to change now, though. She was already behind schedule and if there was one thing Travis appreciated it was a tightly run ship.

      “Why was Jean Claude here?” her mother asked from her seat on the edge of the queen-size bed.

      Julie looked into the mirror at her mom’s concerned features and for just a minute or two, she considered confessing all. But what would that serve? All she’d do was worry her mother. It wouldn’t solve the problem. Wouldn’t make it go away. So, no point in opening this particular can of worms.

      “To wish me luck,” she said instead and forced a smile.

      “Hmm…” Her mom wasn’t buying it, but she wasn’t arguing, either, so that was good.

      “Look, Mom,” Julie said, spinning around to face her. “I know you don’t approve of my marrying Travis—”

      “I have nothing against him,” her mother interrupted sharply, getting to her feet and coming closer to Julie. “You know that. The King boys all have good hearts.”

      “See?” Julie argued. “It’ll be fine.”

      Her mom wasn’t finished, though. “I know the two of you were close when you were children, but people change and—”

      “Mom, that was a long time ago.” Julie’s memories rose up in a rush, though. In seconds, she saw herself and Travis as kids, sneaking out to the barn to give the horses apples. Hiding from Jackson when he wanted to play with them. Following Adam around until he chased them off. They had been close. But that was childhood. This was now. “We’re two consenting adults and we know what we’re doing.”

      “But marrying a man you don’t love and letting him pay you for it—”

      “Wow, when you say it like that, it sounds really bad,” Julie said.

      “It is really bad, honey,” her mother said and took both of Julie’s hands in hers. “You’ve already had one miserable experience with marriage. I want more for you. I want you to love and be loved.”

      “Maybe one day that will happen,” Julie said, sighing a little, since this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “But this isn’t about love. Travis needed a wife and I get my bakery. It’s a simple business deal.”

      “Hmm…” Her mother’s features twisted into a disapproving frown and Julie knew that Mary O’Hara Hambleton would never be okay with this situation.

      But it was a done deal now. Or was it? Since she was still married to Jean Claude, she wasn’t married at all to Travis, so—Oh, she really didn’t want to think about any of this anymore.

      “Mom, I’ve got to run. Travis will be waiting.”

      Her mother swept her up in a hard, tight hug and kissed her soundly on the cheek. Cupping Julie’s face in her palms, she said, “Don’t get hurt again, Julie honey. I don’t think I could bear it if I had to see your heart broken like it was before.”

      Julie didn’t want to see that again, either. As miserable a creep as Jean Claude actually was, once upon a time, Julie had thought herself desperately in love with him. And when he’d tossed her aside, the bruises had been soul deep. She wasn’t interested in ever going through an experience like that again. Which is why this “marriage” to Travis would work so well. Neither of them were even pretending to be in love.

      Julie hugged her mom, then stepped away and headed for the bedroom door. Her suitcases had already been loaded into the car, so all she had to carry was her slim, green leather clutch bag. Her high heels were soundless on the thick carpet and the cut-glass doorknob felt cold against her palm.

      At the door, she turned to look at her mother and tried not to dwell on the worry in her eyes. “I won’t be hurt, Mom. This isn’t about love, remember? It’s business.”

      Travis hardly spoke to her for the first hour of the flight to The Riviera, Maya, Mexico.

      It shouldn’t have surprised her any, but a part of Julie wished he would just say what he was thinking instead of sulking with a glass of scotch. Although, the fact that he was drinking expensive, single malt scotch, instead of his beloved wine, was an indicator that he wasn’t looking to relax. He was looking to cloud his mind. So maybe she should be grateful for the quiet after all.

      The flight attendant, who was wearing a crisp, navy blue skirt and short-sleeved white blouse, came through and offered Julie a drink. After a moment’s hesitation, she ordered a margarita on the rocks. With the day they’d had, she deserved a little mind-numbing herself.

      The attendant left a frothy pitcher of margaritas within easy reach of Julie, then disappeared into the cockpit to join the pilots, leaving the newlyweds alone. Great. Because being alone with a man who was so angry he wasn’t speaking was sure to make the honeymoon trip a good one.

      With a sip of her drink, Julie distracted herself by looking around the plane and eased back into the soft-as- butter, pale blue leather chair. The carpets were sky- blue, as well and there were two couches, as well as several wide chairs such as the one she’d claimed. At the back of the plane, there was a bedroom, complete with king-size bed, and a bathroom that made the one in her apartment look like a broom closet.

      There was a plasma television screen affixed to the front wall, and a tiny kitchen tucked into a corner. There were a few paintings hung about and a vase, attached to a low table, boasted a stunning bouquet of fresh spring flowers.

      It should have been ideal. Romantic. In any other circumstance.

      But the quiet, broken only by the low, insistent roar of the engines, began nibbling at Julie’s nerves and soon she was glancing at her new, would-be husband. Travis was stretched out in a chair closer to the front of the airplane. His long legs were crossed at the ankle and the only muscle he’d moved in an hour was his right arm, as he lifted his glass of scotch to his mouth.

      She took another long gulp of her margarita and swallowed the Dutch courage before asking, “So are you permanently mute or is this just a temporary condition?”

      Slowly, Travis swiveled his head to look at her then, almost lazily, he swung his chair around until he was facing her. His brown eyes were narrowed and the shadow of whiskers darkened his jaw. “What would you like to talk about?”

      Good question. She didn’t really even want to think about Jean Claude, let alone talk about him. But she knew that conversation was coming. No way to avoid it forever, but putting it off for a few hours didn’t seem like a bad plan, either. She didn’t want to talk about the money he’d paid Jean Claude, either, because that just infuriated her and she was fairly certain that Travis was still furious about it, too. Should they talk about how they weren’t really married and that if that fact came out they’d both be publicly humiliated?

      No thanks.

      So what did that leave?

      “Um, nice plane?” Lame, Julie thought. Seriously lame.

      He snorted, shook his head and took a sip of his drink. “Thanks.”

      She wasn’t willing to give up on this so soon. СКАЧАТЬ