The Tycoon Takes a Wife Read online

  Eloisa yanked her hand away and rubbed her palm against her leg. “You’re arguing semantics.”

  “If you would prefer to skip the party, we could grab a bite to eat and talk about those semantics.” He watched the glide of her hand up and down her thigh, remembering well the creamy, soft texture under his mouth as he’d tasted his way up.

  She stared at him silently until he met her eyes again. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Climb into the car and see.”

  She glanced back at the boat, then at him again, her long ponytail fanning to rest along her shoulder. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Afraid I’ll kidnap you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She laughed nervously as if she’d considered just that.

  “Then what’s holding you back? Unless you want to continue this conversation right here.” He nodded toward the boat full of partyers. “I thought you wanted me to be quiet.”

  She looked back over her shoulder again, and while it appeared no one noticed them, who knew how long that would hold? Not that he gave a damn what anyone thought, unlike his enigmatic wife. He’d learned a long time ago he had two choices in this world. Let others rule his life or take charge.

  The second option won hands down.

  He cocked an eyebrow and waited.

  “Fine,” she bit out between gritted teeth.

  She eyed him angrily as she angled past and slid into the car without even brushing against him. Eloisa settled into the leather seat.

  Jonah tucked himself inside next her, closed the door and tapped the glass window between them and the chauffeur, signaling him to drive. Just drive. He would issue a destination later.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as the limo eased into motion, the tinted windows closing them in their own private capsule.

  “Where do you want to go? I have a penthouse suite farther down on Pensacola Beach.”

  “Of course you do.” Her gaze flicked around the small space, lingering briefly on his computer workstation to her left before moving on to the minibar and the plasma screen TV.

  “I see you haven’t changed.” He’d forgotten how prickly she could be about money. Still, it had been refreshing. He’d had plenty of women chase him because of the Landis portfolio and political influence.

  He’d never had a female dump him because of it. Of course back then he hadn’t known she had access to money and influence beyond even his family’s reach. Mighty damn impressive.

  And confusing since she hadn’t bothered to share that even after they married.

  He put a damper on the surge of anger, a dangerous emotion given the edge of desire searing his insides. To prove to himself he could stay in control, he slid two fingers down the length of a sleekly straight lock of her black hair.

  Eloisa jerked her head away. “Stop that.” She adjusted the air-conditioning vent nervously until the blast of air ruffled her ponytail. “Enough playing, although you certainly seem to be an expert at recreation. I just want to know why you’re here, now.”

  With all he knew about her, she still understood so little about him. “What’s wrong with wanting to see my wife?”

  “Ex-wife. We got drunk and ended up married.” She shrugged casually, too much so. “It happens to lots of folks, from pop stars to everyday Joes and Josephines. Just check out the marriage logs in Las Vegas. We made a mistake, but we took steps to fix it the morning after.”

  “Do you consider all of it a mistake? Even the part between ‘I do’ and waking up with a hangover?” He couldn’t resist reminding her.

  A whisper of attraction smoked through her dark eyes. “I don’t remember.”

  “You’re blushing,” he noted with more than a little satisfaction, grateful for the soft glow of a muted overhead light. So he was smug. Sue him. “You remember the good parts all right.”

  “Sex is irrelevant.” She sniffed primly.

  “Sex? I was talking about the food.” He turned the tables, enjoying the cat-and-mouse game between them. “The mariscada en salsa verde was amazing.” And just that fast, he could all but taste the shellfish casserole in green sauce, the supper she’d shared with him before they had after-dinner drinks. Got hitched. Got naked.

  He could see the same memory reflected in her eyes just before her mouth pursed tight.

  “You’re a jackass, Jonah.”

  “But I’m all yours.” For now at least.

  “Not anymore. Remember the morning-after ‘fix’? You’re my ex-jackass.”

  If only it were that simple to put this woman in his past. God knows, he’d tried hard enough over the past year to forget about Eloisa Taylor Landis.

  Or rather Eloisa Medina Landis?

  He’d stumbled upon the glitch in a church registry, a “minor” technicality she’d forgotten to mention, but one that had snarled up their paperwork in Spain. The sense of shock and yeah, even some bitter betrayal rocked through him again.

  No question, he needed to put this woman in his past, but this time he would be the one to walk away.

  “Now there you’re wrong, Eloisa. That fix got broken along the way.” He picked up a lock of her hair again, keeping his hand off her shoulder.

  Lightly he tugged, making his presence felt. A spark of awareness flickered through her eyes, flaming an answering heat inside him. He looked at the simple gold chain around her neck and remembered the jewels he’d once pictured there while she’d slept. Then she woke up and made it clear there would be no summer together. She couldn’t get out of his life fast enough.

  Her breath hitched. He reminded himself of his reason for coming here, to end things and leave.

  Now he wondered if it might be all the more satisfying to have one last time with Eloisa, to ensure she remembered all they could have had if only she’d been as upfront with him as he’d been with her.

  He glided his knuckles up her ponytail to her cheek, gently urging her to face him more fully. “The paperwork never made it through. Something to do with you lying about your name.”

  Her eyes darted away. “I never lied about my name—” She sat up straighter, her gaze slamming back into his. “What do you mean the paperwork didn’t go through?”

  She seemed to be genuinely surprised, but he’d learned not to trust her. Still he would play this game out in order to achieve his ultimate goal—a final night in her bed before leaving her forever.

  “The divorce wasn’t finalized. You, my dear, are still Mrs. Jonah Landis.”

  Two

  He had to be joking.

  Eloisa dug her fingers into the leather seats, seriously considering making use of that bottle of bourbon in the limo’s minibar. Except indulging in a few too many umbrella drinks had landed her in this mess in the first place.

  She’d taken pains to cover her tracks. Her mother had warned her how important it was to be careful. Keep a low profile. Stay above reproach. And never, ever invite scrutiny.

  Eloisa looked out the window to see where they were headed. They passed nail salons and T-shirt shops along the beachfront, nightlife in full swing on open-decked restaurant bars. The chauffeur truly seemed like he was simply driving around, not headed anywhere specific—such as Jonah’s hotel.

  She simply couldn’t pay the price for being impulsive again. “We signed the divorce paperwork.”

  His blue eyes narrowed. “Apparently there’s some–thing you neglected to tell me, a secret you’ve kept mighty close to the vest.”

  Eloisa bit her lip to hold back impulsive words while she gathered her thoughts and reminded herself to be grateful he hadn’t stumbled upon her more recent secret. Her empty stomach gripped with nerves. She tried to draw in calming breaths, but had to face a truth learned long ago. Only when working at the library could she relax.

  Best she could tell, there weren’t any books conveniently tucked away in this superbly stocked luxury ride. Although the backseat area was packed with enough technology to provide a command c
entral for a small army. Apparently Jonah preferred to have the world at his fingertips. Odd, but she didn’t have time for distractions right now.

  “What secret?” she asked out of a long-honed habit of denial. To date, no one had pressed the point so the strategy hadn’t let her down yet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  His jaw went tight with irritation. “That’s the way you want to play this? Fine.” He leaned in closer until she couldn’t miss the musky scent of him mixed with his still-familiar aftershave. “You forgot to mention your father.”

  Her chest went tighter than her hands twisting in the skirt of her dress. “My dad’s a tax collector in Pensacola, Florida. Speaking of which, why aren’t you home in Hilton Head, South Carolina?”

  He gripped her wrists to stop her nervous fidgeting. “Not your stepdad, your biological father.”

  Apparently, Jonah wasn’t easily diverted tonight.

  “I told you before about my biological father.” A shiver passed over her at even the mention of the man who’d wrecked her mother’s life, the man she lied about on a regular basis. “My mother was a single parent when I was born. My real father was a bum who wanted no part in my life.” True enough.

  Her dad—no more than a sperm donor as far as she was concerned—had broken her mother’s heart then left her to raise their child alone. Her stepfather might not have been Prince Charming—wasn’t that damn ironic?—but at least he’d been there for her and her mother.

  “A bum? A royal bum.” Jonah stretched a leg out in front of him, polished snakeskin loafer gleaming in the overhead lamp. “Interesting dichotomy.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and wished it was that easy to shut out the repercussions of what he’d somehow discovered. Her mother had been emphatic about personal safety. Her biological father still had enemies back in San Rinaldo. She’d been foolish to tempt fate by going to Spain in hopes of unobtrusively learning about half her heritage on the small island country nearby. Damn it all, fear was a good thing when it kept a person safe.

  She steadied her breath, if not her galloping heart rate. “Would you please not say that?”

  “Say what?”

  “The whole royal thing.” While her stepfather frequently called Audrey his “little princess,” he—and the rest of the world—didn’t know that Eloisa was actually the one with royal blood singing through her veins, thanks to her biological father.

  Nobody knew, except Eloisa, her deceased mother and a lawyer who conducted any communication with the deposed king. Eloisa’s so-called real father. A man still hunted to this day by the rebel faction that had taken over his small island kingdom of San Rinaldo off the coast of Spain.

  How had Jonah found out?

  He tipped her chin with one knuckle as his driver slowed for jaywalking teens. “You may have been able to fool the world for a lot of years, but I’ve figured out your secret. You’re the illegitimate daughter of deposed King Enrique Medina.”

  She stiffened defensively, then forced herself to relax nonchalantly. “That’s ridiculous.” Albeit true. If he could figure it out, how much longer until her secret was revealed to others? She needed to know, hopefully find some way to plug that leak and persuade him he was wrong.

  Then she would decide what to do if his claim was actually true, a notion that could have her hyperventilating if she thought about it too long. “What makes you think something so outlandish?”

  “I discovered the truth when I went back to Europe recently. My brother and his wife decided to renew their wedding vows and while I was in the area, I stopped by the chapel where we got married.”

  A bolt of surprise shot through her and she couldn’t help but think back to that night. She’d been emotionally flattened by her mother’s death and had only just returned to finish her studies in Europe. She’d shared some drinks with the guy she’d secretly had a crush on and the next thing she’d known, they were hunting for a preacher or a justice of the peace with the lights still on.

  Visiting the place where they’d exchanged vows sounded sentimental. Like that day meant more to him than a drunken mistake.

  She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “You went back there?”

  “I was in the neighborhood,” he repeated, his jaw going tight, the first sign that the whole debacle may have upset him as much as it had her.

  He’d let her go so easily, agreeing they’d made an impulsive mistake rather than asking her to crawl back in bed with him and discuss it later. A huge part of her had wanted him to sweep away rational concerns. But no. He’d let her leave, just as her father never claimed her mother.

  Or her.

  She tore her eyes away from the tempting curve of his mouth, a mouth that had brought such intense pleasure when he’d explored every patch of her skin later that night after their “I do.” Except they’d exchanged vows in Spanish, which had seemed romantic at the time. Between her hiccups. “Everyone knows King Enrique doesn’t live in San Rinaldo anymore. Nobody knows where he and his sons fled after they left. There are only rumors.”

  “Rumors that he’s in Argentina.” Jonah lounged back in the seat, seemingly lazy and relaxed, except for the coiled muscles she could see bunched under his black jacket.

  She knew well he came by those muscles honestly. Her first memory of him was burned in her brain, the day she’d joined the restoration team on a graduate internship to assist with research. Jonah had been studying blueprints with another man on the construction site. She’d mistakenly thought Jonah worked on the crew, from his casual clothes and mud-stained boots. The guy was actually a couple of credits away from his PhD. He wasn’t just an architect, he was a bit of an artist in his own right.

  That had enticed her.

  Only later, too late for her own good, had she discovered who he was. A Landis, a member of a financial and political dynasty.

  Eloisa looked away from his too-perceptive eyes and swept her hem back over her knees. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  Lying came so easily after this long.

  “It also appears that neither you nor your mother has been to Argentina, but that’s not my point.” His eyes drilled into her until she looked back at him. “I don’t give a damn where your royal papa lives. I’m only concerned with the fact that you lied to me, which gummed up the works for our divorce.”

  “Okay, then.” She met his gaze defiantly. “If what you say is true, maybe it means the marriage is void, too, so we don’t need a divorce.”

  He shook his head. “No such luck. I checked. Believe me. We are totally and completely husband and wife.”

  Jonah slid his fingers down the length of her hair until his hand cupped her hip. His hand rested warm and familiar and tempting against her until she could swear she felt his calluses through her dress. She struggled not to squirm—or sway closer.

  She clasped his wrist and set his hand back on his knee. “File abandonment charges. Or I will. I don’t care as long as this is taken care of quickly and quietly. No one here knows about my, uh, impetuosity.”

  “Don’t you want to discuss who gets the china and who gets the monogrammed towels?”

  Argh! She tapped on the window. “Driver? Driver?” She kept rapping until the window parted. “Take me back now, please.”

  The chauffeur glanced at Jonah who nodded curtly.

  His autocratic demeanor made her want to scream out her frustration but she wouldn’t cause a scene. Why did this man alone have the power to make her blood boil? She was a master of calm. Everyone said so, from the stodgiest of library board members to her sixth grade track coach who never had managed to coax her to full speed.

  She waited until the window closed before turning to him again. “You can have every last bit of the nothing I own if you’ll please just stop this madness now. Arguing isn’t going to solve anything. I’ll have my lawyer look into the divorce issue.”

  That was as close as she would come to admitting he’d stumbled on the
truth. She certainly couldn’t outright confirm it without seeing what proof he had and hopefully have time to take it to her attorney. Too many lives were at stake. There were still people out there tied to the group that tried to assassinate Enrique Medina, had in fact succeeded in killing his wife, the mother of his three legitimate heirs.

  Enrique had been a widower when he met her mother in Florida, and still they hadn’t gotten married. Her mom vowed she hadn’t wanted any part of the royal lifestyle, but her jaw had always quivered when she said it. Right now Eloisa sympathized with her mother more than she could have ever imagined. Relationships were damn complicated—and painful.

  Thank goodness the limo approached the paddleboat again because she didn’t know how much more of this she could take tonight. The car stopped smoothly alongside the dock.

  “Jonah, if that’s all you have to say, I need to return to the party. My attorney will be in touch with you first thing next week.”

  Eloisa reached for the door.

  His hand fell to rest on top of hers, his body pressing intimately against her as he stretched past.

  “Hold on a minute. Do you really think I’m letting you out of my sight again that easily? Last time I did that, you ditched before lunch. I’m not wasting another year looking for you if you decide to bolt.”

  “I didn’t run. I came home to Pensacola.” She tried to inch free but he clasped her hands in his. “This is where you can find me.”

  Where he could have found her anytime over the past twelve months if he’d cared at all. In the first few weeks she’d waited, hoped, then the panic set in as she’d wrestled with contacting him.

  Now, they had no reason to talk.

  “I’m here now.” His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist. “And we’re going to fix this mess face-to-face rather than trusting the system again.”

  “No!” Already her skin tingled with awareness so much more intense than when he’d cupped her hip—and she’d been mighty aware.

  Damn her traitorous body.

  “Yes,” he said, reaching past and throwing open the door.

  He was letting her go after all? But hadn’t he just said they were going to confront things face-to-face?