The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc #3)(66)
Jack hated the idea of dragging her back into the spotlights of DC and Boston at the end of the trip, where she'd have to play a role for him. For now, though, she was happy, and he felt like he was in a dream.
The whole week had been just that, a long, sun-soaked dream. Sooner or later, Jack knew he'd have to wake up and go back to reality, but here, he was free to live without expectations or obligations. On the morning of the third day, they hiked down to the far end of the island, slowly winding their way through the shaded paths that led through the groves and thickets of the island. By the time they had reached the far end, it was well past noon, and they picnicked on the beach. They didn't even need words between them, just enjoying the moment for what it was. Jack wished more than anything that he and Charlotte could just stay there, suspended in time, taking with them only what they needed.
More than once, he caught himself daydreaming. What if he could leave it all? Would she come with him? Would she let him throw it all away, the power, the prestige, the life? She had chosen to live in DC, after all. How likely was she to pick up and move to some remote island just because he wanted her to? Even if she were willing, Jack knew there were other obstacles. His family would fall apart without him. His siblings would run through the family fortune in a few years if given the chance. His mother would be heartbroken. She was so proud of everything he had done so far in life, and he knew she had bigger dreams for him — the Senate, the White House. If he gave that all up for Charlotte, he doubted his mother would survive the shock.
There were other family commitments to think about. There was his father's legacy, and the people who worked for the family, the people who worked for him. A small army of staffers relied upon him for employment, and here he was thinking about throwing them all out in the cold so he could live out some fantasy with a woman he hired to be his wife.
There were secrets, secrets he had carefully guarded for years. Not only did he have to keep the press from finding out about his own family situation, hiding the shame of Maria and little Jack, he had to hide them from the rest of his family. And now that included Charlotte. His marriage to Charlotte was just one of the lies he had hidden over the years, and yet it was the only lie he wished were a truth.
It was crazy. It was shameful, really, and Jack knew it couldn't happen. How much more could he ask of Charlotte? How long could he expect her to stay with him like this? He was depriving her of the one thing she truly wanted: love without pretense or poetical concerns. She deserved the pure love of a man who could be there for her and give his whole soul to her, not someone like him. He was already compromised and corrupted, and he felt terrible about making someone as perfect as her play his game.
It didn't matter that he had feelings for her or that she thought she had feelings for him. He knew it couldn't last. Their differences were too great. He wished he could start fresh, telling Charlotte all of his secrets from the first time he saw her, but he knew he couldn't. Jack decided he would explain everything once they flew back. He just didn't know what Charlotte would do once she learned the truth.
On the last night, Jack arranged dinner on the beach. He kept Charlotte occupied by telling her that he wanted to finish the book before they left the island. In truth, he had finished it two days earlier when she had fallen asleep on the beach. When she accepted his offer, he spent most of the afternoon peeking over the top of his book at her, watching that grin on her face as she read on. He loved the way she looked, sun-kissed, relaxed, just being herself. He tried to forget that he was asking her to be someone else for him.
Shortly after dusk, Jack told Charlotte he had a surprise for her, and he led her down to the beach. "We should have an hour or so until the tide reaches the table," he said as the torch-lit beach came into view.
Charlotte grabbed his arm. "Jack, it's beautiful," she said. She hurried over to the elaborate dinner Jack had laid out. He sat down across the table from her, ready to enjoy one last meal on the island. It was the beginning of the final night before they had to head back to reality, one last chance to forget about the past and the future and just enjoy their time together, one moment of reprieve before they got sucked back into the awful world of campaign stresses and fake wedding news and secret cell phones. Charlotte stood up and pulled her chair around the table so she could sit next to him. He smiled and kissed her lightly on the shoulder. At least, whether their marriage was just a sham or not, he had Charlotte by his side.
***
On her first night on the island, Charlotte had made herself a promise. She had decided to stop thinking about the trip as her honeymoon, of Jack as her husband and herself as his wife. She promised not to think about any of that until the trip was over. She wouldn't think about the past, the future or anything but what she wanted in the moment. She had decided that this trip would be their chance to be whatever they wanted to be. This was their chance to relax.
This will be good for you, she had told herself.
And it was. It was better than good. It was the best week of her life, falling asleep in the open air of their bedroom, waking up with her chest pressed against Jack's side, listening to the surf crash on the beach below, walking down to the sand and swimming in the warm water, lying out on a towel and soaking in the sun. For the first time in her life, even her skin was cooperating. After a full day in the sun, she didn't burn. In fact she saw the first hints of tiny freckles forming on her shoulders. That was about as close to a tan as she'd ever get.