The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée: European Tycoon Book Two by North Leslie

Author:North, Leslie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

9

"Gavin, this is my aunt and uncle…."

Sarah stood on the doorstep of her family's modest home, beaming brighter than the afternoon sun above. In that incongruous moment, Gavin found himself musing that most homes were modest now that he lived in a castle...

“… Jean and Matthew.” Sarah finished her introductions with a broad grin.

"A pleasure to meet you." Gavin adjusted his tie, then spaded his hand belatedly and held it out. Oh God, was he nervous? Sarah had held it together infinitely better when meeting his own friends and family. He didn't think he was particularly awkward socially despite his introversion. Why couldn't he play it cool now?

"Gavin!" Sarah's aunt stepped forward and encircled him in a hug. He was much taller than she was, meaning she had to stay on the last step of the stoop to chance reaching him at all. Gavin's heart stuttered to a stop at the surprise display of affection. He could tell by the grinning faces of Sarah and Sarah's uncle that hugs were to be expected—probably even bountiful in this household. "We're so glad you could make it! Come in! Come in!"

Somehow, the older woman managed to maneuver him ahead of her and usher him in. Gavin glanced back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Sarah in silent question, but Sarah simply shook her head. Her lips were pressed together, and he had the distinct impression of a failed attempt to hide her grin. She knew, he thought. I wrote her a dossier worthy of MI6 on every single one of my family members, and she left me to be surprised. He supposed this was how it was done when a couple was not pretending to be together.

God, how he wished that wasn't the case.

The thought struck him like a punch between the eyes. Gavin nearly stopped in his tracks there on the stoop, but Sarah stepped up to take his hand and finished guiding him inside. Her thumb brushed the crease in his palm in silent reassurance, but the secret gesture threatened to awaken the beast in him. Gavin gripped her hand hard in his. It seemed with every passing moment since their storm-tossed shag, all he could think about was doing it again.

The cottage the Hansons inhabited was cozy, and Jean was a consummate host. She took Gavin’s jacket for him and thrust a cup of tea into his hands before he could properly orient himself, and then she ushered him to the dining room and seated him at the table beside Sarah.

“I’d say this engagement calls for champagne, not tea!” Matthew Hanson laughed at his wife, but the observation wasn’t mean-spirited, but rather—and Gavin was surprised by his own insight into relations between relatives who were not his own—fond.

Gavin glanced at Sarah and was again overcome by the fierceness of his feelings for her. Not good. None of this was any good. He had anticipated the celebratory nature of the evening, but it suddenly felt as if this whole situation was building to something he wasn’t prepared for.

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