A TEMPORARY MARRIAGE: PART TWO (AVALON BAY ROMANCE SERIES Book 2) Read online

  A TEMPORARY MARRIAGE

  PART TWO

  AVALON BAY ROMANCE SERIES

  VICKY DEAN

  PUBLISHED BY:

  GOLDMINEGUIDES.COM

  Copyright © 2015

  VickyDean.goldmineguides.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  HEART BREAK HOTEL

  JENNIFER

  RETURN TO AVALON BAY

  PRIMROSE HOUSE

  A RUN-IN WITH GLENDA QUINN

  VICTORIA’S BBQ

  A NASTY SURPRISE

  PHILIP GIVES HIS ADVICE

  PRIMROSE INN OPENS

  FISHERMEN’S INN

  A TRIP TO CHICAGO

  HEART BREAK HOTEL

  Sitting there on the couch, Richard should have been happy about being near such an amazing woman. Only, he wasn’t. He sighed loudly, his frustration revealing itself. “Cassie, this relationship has to stop. It should never have started,” he said, running his hands through his hair and staring up at the ceiling, hoping he could hide his eyes, which were lined with tiredness and desperate to avoid her gaze.

  “But why?” she asked softly. “We’re getting along so well and having such a good time, aren’t we? What harm can come from it?”

  Richard sensed her forced casual tone and that was just the reminder he needed as to why allowing himself to be sexually attracted to her had been a bad choice. “Because we entered this marriage as a business contract. I said from the beginning I’m not interested in ‘marriage’ or long term relationships. And you hinted the same.” He finally looked at her, wanting to make sure she understood what he was saying. Those beautiful blue eyes startled him briefly, reminding him of why it was easier to say these things without looking at Cassie. “You’re a beautiful woman and I really like you. But if we continue the relationship as it is, it will eventually destroy any chance we have for friendship after this. And I don’t want to risk that.”

  “Has this got something to do with running into your ex yesterday?” Cassie asked.

  That was exactly what he hoped that she would not ask, preferring it to be an off-limit topic. He turned and walked over to the hotel window, staring out at nothing in particular. He felt his jaw tense and his mind seemed content on torturing him with all the unknowns in his life. “I guess, partially yes.”

  “Are you still hung up on her?”

  “No, not in the slightest. And to be honest, meeting her again yesterday, I wondered what I’d ever seen in her in the first place.”

  “So why let it affect our relationship?” Cassie challenged.

  Richard’s hand grasped the tan linen curtain and his forearm rested on the large window pane. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “It reminded me of the vow I’d made to myself to never get emotionally involved again. You deserve someone better than an emotional wreck like me.”

  “Don’t you think I can decide for myself what I want? I’ve really enjoyed our time together in France. I’m willing to take the chance and see where this takes us,” Cassie said.

  That got Richard’s attention and he turned around, only to see her looking the other way. Her knees were under her chin and her arms were wrapped around her legs. Without a doubt, the intimacy they’d shared over the last six days has been incredible. He hadn’t given it a second thought, until… Leave it to Jennifer and her oil-baron husband, Jett, to mess things up.

  “I’m sorry Cassie. I should never have overstepped the bounds of our contract. The last thing I want to do is cause you any pain, which is why I think we must put a stop to it before we return to Avalon Bay. I’ve put a lot of thought into this and believe it’s best for both of us.”

  “And how do you know what’s best for me?” Cassie asked. He knew it was a fair question, but he sensed an underlying current of hostility in her words, which instantly made things more complicated. Then she was silent, and it was a silence that seemed as huge as the Grand Canyon itself.

  “What do you mean, put a stop to it?” Cassie finally asked.

  “If you feel you can no longer honor our contract and want to return to your life in New York, I’d understand,” Richard said. The two finally made eye contact again and he wondered if the deep unhappiness he felt matched what she was feeling. She looked so sad, which tugged at his heartstrings heavily. “We leave for Paris in a few hours, I’ve packed already. I’m going out for a walk now and to give you time to think,” he said.

  She only looked at him but did not move. “Cassie, I really do care greatly about our friendship, let’s not ruin it,” he said before disappearing out the door.

  Cassie was frozen to the sofa, feeling bereft. The last six days had been the happiest of her life. Upon waking up after their wondrous night of love-making in Sarlat she’d felt happy and light, comfortable with the idea of blurring the lines of their contract, and letting the chips fall where they may. It seemed quite natural to her, actually.

  And every day since then had been amazing. Their time in Dordogne sampling the local wines and the culinary delights of the area such as foie gras, black truffles, confit de canard and the many cheeses of the region made her feel like she was really on a honeymoon. And each night, despite having their own hotel rooms as per their marriage contract, they would share a night of passion, normally in her bed. She couldn’t remember ever feeling as alive and excited about something. Everything seemed better and brighter, like Richard’s very presence had tuned her into the universe and its wishes for her.

  From the Dordogne they’d driven to Aix-en-Provence, the easygoing and attractive sun-kissed hometown of Émile Zola and Paul Cézanne. Their small hotel that overlooked the numerous boisterous bars and cafes of rue Espariat were enchanting and alluring, drawing them in. They’d spent the early evening wandering with hands entwined through the narrow streets of mellow-stone, centuries old townhouses and squares, window shopping and laughing, feeling each other’s warmth even when a cool breeze would set in. It was perfect and ideal, followed by a magical, intimate dinner of daube de boeuf Provençal. All had seemed as it was meant to be, each day turning into another day filled with promise of a growing union, one that was not a contract as much as it was two people who felt they should be together. At least Cassie had felt that way. Until a few moments ago, she’d thought Richard may be feeling that same thing.

  Cassie couldn’t help but relive all the amazing details of her and Richard’s past days together, feeling each one’s impact as if it was happening again. She thought back to their visit to the Aix-en-Provence market to buy a picnic lunch.

  “This looks more like a backdrop to a French film than a real working actual market,” Cassie said, gazing wide-eyed around at the perfectly displayed colorful produce of fruits and vegetables—vibrant red tomatoes, bunches of asparagus, mountains of garlic bulbs, deep purple aubergines, sunny yellow zucchini blossoms, and baskets upon baskets of earthy mushrooms. Behind each stand was a stall owner who smiled at them affectionately, complimenting them on their happy expressions as they tried to push their wares.

  Aix-en-Provence market stall

  “California grows beautiful produce, but no where have I seen it displayed like this. At least not near Avalon Bay,” Richard had said.

  “There’s not a basket large enough to carry all I want to buy,” She’d replied, laughing as she and Richard darted from stall to stall, sampling the different cheeses and hams.

  Finally, they’d purchased enough and went off to enjoy a picnic together in the wildly romantic country side. It had been better than the best thought out romantic scene. Afterward, they’d continued exploring the region passing by pretty villages perched up high like mountaintop eagle's nests and wine-producing villages that glowed apricot in the sun. In small pretty towns, hands tightly entwined, they strolled along cobblestoned lanes stopping to enjoy a glass of rosé and watch old blokes with black berets on their heads swear and bring ancestral wisdom to their games of pétanque. They’d enjoyed the intrigue of medieval walled cities, open air markets, and Roman ruins. They took in hotels, talking about ideas for Cassie’s renovations for Primrose House. And each night they would feast and delight in each other’s bodies and nothing ruined the momentum of the honeymoon that had taken over so easily.

  Just yesterday, they’d made their way from Provence down to Nice, the “Queen of the Riviera,” where the glittering blue Mediterranean waters and soft sand beaches, have long been the playground of the rich and famous. They were booked into a newly renovated minimalistic hotel on the Promenade des Anglais. Their suite was on the sixth floor. When they were shown into it Cassie gasped, the view from the living room was spread out in front of them like a movie set.

  Promenade des Anglais

  “It.........it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She said as she walked out onto the terrace, which was furnished with sun beds, table and chairs, closely followed by Richard.

  “Couldn’t be a better view unless you were in a hot air balloon,” he said as he wrapped his a
rms around her.

  They stood and stared out at the palm trees of the Promenade des Anglais with the golden sand beaches and the sea glimmering just beyond, Super yachts belonging to billionaires bobbed about at anchor in the Bay of Angels.

  After a glass of champagne on their terrace, they’d gone out for a late lunch. They chose a serene port-side restaurant which had a shaded terrace from which they could enjoy views of Nice and the big, glamorous yachts. The other clientele at the restaurant appeared to be quite wealthy. At the table next to them sat an elegant French couple in their early thirties, whose clothing yelled expensive and his mannerisms—head down in the wine list—showed that he had refined tastes. Another table had a family from America at it, discussing whether to sell New York and keep Hawaii and Aspen, or just stay right there and figure it out later. Without a doubt, Cassie had been very casual in comparison to everyone else, which she didn’t particularly mind. Really, it was just an observation.

  After lunch they decided to walk around the port and take a closer look at all the yachts that had docked there. On a few of the large motor yachts, either the owners or charter guests sat on the aft deck, enjoying drinks and looking snootily at the curious tourists wandering past their vessels.

  “God, if I could afford a vessel like one of these, the last thing I would want is to be peered at like I was an animal in the zoo,” Cassie remarked. “I thought the whole point of having your own yacht was the freedom and privacy it offered you.”

  “I think they’re just enjoying showing off their wealth. Makes me think they’re very sad people. If you had your own yacht, Cassie, where would you like to go?” Richard asked.

  “Wow, that’s a million dollar question. Where wouldn’t I? I’d love to visit the Galapagos Islands, remote Pacific Islands, the Norwegian fjords. Oh, just so many places.”

  “And which yacht would you like me to buy you for your trip?” he continued.

  Cassie giggled and said, “Any of these would do, I suppose.” Then the two continued walking hand in hand and taking in the sights of the large yachts against the crystal blue water, stating what they liked about one yacht and didn’t like about the next.

  Suddenly, in the midst of their game playing they heard an American female voice call out, “Richard, Richard Gallagher.”

  Cassie felt Richard freeze and drop her hand like a hot cinder.

  They both turned around to see a long legged busty blonde female, clad in the briefest of white sequined shorts, white skimpy sequined t-shirt, absurdly high heels, wraparound designer sunglasses and a cowboy hat on her head, standing provocatively, one hand on a hip while the other held the rail of a gangplank leading to a particularly over the top ostentatious gin-palace.

  JENNIFER

  Sensing Richard’s tenseness naturally made Cassie tense, too. “Who’s that?” she’d whispered quietly.

  “Jennifer,” he replied, his voice sounding like he was doing everything within his power to control it.

  The Jennifer that crushed him, Cassie thought. Now she understood the reaction.

  They began to walk back down the quay towards her. When they reached her she threw her arms around Richard’s neck and pushed her groin against his. He pulled her arms off him and took a step backward.

  “Am I being too exuberant for you, Richard? It’s just such a surprise to see you,”

  “You too, Jennifer,” Richard said tersely.

  “And whose this pretty little thing,” Jennifer said, looking Cassie up and down with hard hazelnut eyes, while towering over her in her six inch spiked heels.

  “I’m Cassie,” she said holding out her hand, which Jennifer briefly took.

  “I’m Jennifer, the love of Richard’s life, hey Richard.”

  Before Richard could reply a loud booming Texan voice yelled, “Don’t just stand their gabbing, bring ‘em on board.”

  “Yes, come and join us for drinks, meet my husband and kids.”

  “No, we really must be getting back to the hotel,” Richard said.

  “Nonsense, I saw you gawking at our yacht with all those other poor tourists. Come on and I’ll show you around,” Jennifer insisted.

  “Well maybe just one quick drink,” Cassie said as she looked at Richard’s tense face. Admittedly, she was curious about the yacht and Richard’s reactions, but mostly, she suddenly felt a bit of spunk swell up in her and wanted to see Jennifer’s face when she found out that Richard was married.

  Jennifer ushered Cassie and Richard up the gangplank while she removed her high heels. As they stepped off the gangplank on to the large aft deck, a large hairy bare-chested man adorned with a heavy gold medallion, dressed in Bermuda shorts under his large beer belly, and a large diamond encrusted Rolex on his wrist, rose out of his extra large deck chair to greet them.

  “Howdy y’all!” he exclaimed. “I’m Jett.”

  Richard kept quiet and so Cassie introduced them. “Hi, I’m Cassie and this is Richard,” she said as she held out her hand, which was taken by Jett in a vice like grip and shaken heartily.

  “Welcome on board the ‘Texas Queen.’ Now what can I get you to drink? Bourbon Richard?”

  “No, just a beer, thanks.”

  “Yer sure now, it’s a 20 Year Old Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve, costs $1,500 a bottle.”

  “A beer will be fine,” Richard replied.

  “And you little lady,”

  “Just a glass of Rose,” Cassie said and smiled at Jett.

  “Nonsense, a bottle of champagne - Dom Perignon,” Jennifer insisted.

  A Filipino waiter clad in whites stood silently standing by.

  “Bourbon for me, a beer and a bottle of Dom Perignon,” Jett said to the waiter.

  “Come, while we’re waiting for the drinks, let me show you round,” Jennifer said. She took Richard’s hand and started to guide them around on a quick tour of the 150 foot vessel.

  As she looked around, Cassie could only think, large and spacious, but so tacky! She’d never seen anything so gauche, and she’d witnessed a room full of gilded mirrors just over a week ago. When Jennifer turned her head to bark out an order to some other servant, Cassie leaned in to Richard and whispered, “It just goes to show that people with money don’t necessarily have good taste.”

  Even in his tense state, Richard laughed.

  Then the tour continued and they walked into a room that was converted into a playroom on the upper deck. Sitting there were two small, mousy haired, slightly obese young boys—maybe three or four—and they were playing computer games while being watched over by a Filipino nanny.

  “These are my two darling sons, Eric and Philip,” Jennifer trilled as she blew kisses at the boys, who barely glanced in her direction. Not a lot of maternal love there, Cassie thought.

  Back on the aft deck, an awkward half hour passed by. It was painful, really. The conversation was mainly carried out by Jennifer and Jett, as they boasted of their wealth and possessions. Richard sat silently throughout with a frown etched upon his forehead and down turned lips. As Jennifer trilled on about their mansion in Dallas, Cassie studied her. There didn’t seem to be a lot that was natural about her. Her hair was dyed platinum blond and she’d obviously had a boob job. Both Jennifer and Jett, Cassie thought were caricatures; Jennifer of a gold-digger and Jett, a Texan oilman, both loud and crass.

  “We’ve got to get going,” Richard said as he suddenly stood up.

  “But, your friend hasn’t finished her drink yet,” said Jennifer. “And I haven’t even caught up with your news yet. I don’t even know why you’re in France.”

  “We’ve been on your boat for nearly an hour, Jennifer. You had plenty of time to ask,” Richard shot back at her.

  “Hey, why don’t you stay for dinner and I’ll throw a couple of steaks on the BBQ,” Jett chimed in, clueless to the tension. “There real big Texan steaks and good Texan sauce. Not like all the froggie crap you get here.”

  “When we’re in France, we like to eat as the French do. Come on, Cassie, let’s go.”