They’d gotten married on the spur of the moment because a marriage of convenience would secure his inheritance. Otherwise his stepmother, the Wicked Queen as Marj called her, would get the company that Brandon’s father built and meant to pass on to his only son. Meant to, if said son complied with his father’s last wish and got married by the time he turned thirty. Since he’d spent most of his time running the company as interim CEO after his father’s death, Brandon hadn’t exactly been beating the bushes for potential brides—relying instead on his high-powered legal team to break the condition of the will. The will was ironclad and the timing was critical. So when he and Marj met in a hotel bar in Las Vegas, they decided to tie the knot and leave the Wicked Queen out in the cold.
There was the awkward, inconvenient time when Marj was trying to continue working and pretend her life hadn’t changed by marrying a rich guy and falling for him. Then there was the even worse time when Brandon was constantly at work, seldom saw Marj, and was being basically targeted by his too-perfect new assistant who wanted to get him into bed. He’d resisted, and Marj gave him a lot of credit for that, but those husbandly bonus points were dwindling away rapidly with every minute he spent on that phone call. He had promised so faithfully that he’d leave his phone in New York, that he’d at least put it on silent and only check it twice a day.
She scolded herself inwardly for being stupid and insisting that, oh, why shouldn’t he be able to use his phone? She wasn’t so insecure that she couldn’t let him have his phone on vacation. Until it interfered with the chill. There was officially no chill in the TSA line listening to Brandon Cates go over the same marketing decision for the third time.
She wanted to whip the phone out of his hand and bellow, “He’s the boss, damn it, now do what he said! Quit asking questions!” Then she wanted to charge into the public restroom and throw his latest Samsung smartphone down the auto flush toilet. And his smart watch and his smart-anything-else that could distract him from her for the next four days. It was going to be a week in absolute paradise. Having his undivided attention was going to be heavenly.
She had ogled the resort online every night since he told her that he’d had his secretary (the new one, since the too-perfect blond had been permanently reassigned elsewhere in the company) book them a casita there for a much-needed romantic getaway. It was the ultimate in perfection—turquoise water clear as glass, soft white sand beaches, huge fluffy beds and deep Jacuzzi tubs and an outdoor shower that was probably meant to wash all that white sand off one’s designer swimsuit but was actually going to be used for much naughtier purposes.
Unless he intended to spend the vacation making love to his electronic devices. She tapped her phone screen and messaged him. If you’re going to be playing with your battery-powered toys all week, I’m going to the duty-free store to buy a vibrator, Cates. She hit send and gave him a sidelong glance as he checked the message on his screen. She saw him grin, and it was like a punch to the gut. That blazing, sexy grin. He was mostly an all-business poker face kind of guy so when he smiled or laughed it was a major win. Her message had gotten his attention and made him smile. She felt like she’d won the lottery. Granted, they had way more money than some measly state lotto jackpot.
He held up one finger to indicate that he’d only be a moment. She tried to muster an eye-roll, but she was just too smitten. The smile had done her in. Her exasperation had melted away, and she sidled up to him and leaned her head on his shoulder while he talked. Brandon shifted the phone to the other side so he could put an arm around Marj and press a quick kiss to her temple. As soon as he was off the phone, he leaned in and kissed her and whispered, “You’re a complete angel of patience, and I owe you a full-body massage.”
“Now that’s more like it,” she said eagerly.
They stood hand in hand, waiting to present their boarding passes and ID’s to the TSA. Marj grimaced and bent to unbuckle her Jimmy Choo strappy sandals. She was about to go barefoot in an airport. She winced, trying to smile gamely.
“You should’ve let me take the private jet,” he said.
“It’s under repair for another two weeks. I’m not waiting, Cates. Besides, these tickets were such a good deal. I could not pass them up. It’s like against my religion to skip a bargain and do the extravagant thing.”
“Like those shoes came from Payless?”
“How do you even know that Payless is a thing?”
“Because when you came home with them you danced around and swung the bag and said, ‘there ain’t nothing like this at Payless where I used to shop.’ I remember.”