The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée (European Tycoon Book 2)

by Leslie North

  "Ow!" The villain he’d considered to be one of his best friends doubled over. Brandy, bless her, held her smile and pretended not to have picked up on any violence or innuendo, although of course it couldn't have escaped her. She was an erotic author, after all, and had probably written an actual book on any lewd thing that Tony could come up with.

  In the face of all this, Sarah gave a gay laugh and took Gavin's hand in hers. "Let's just say I'm not the only one putting in extra hours." She winked mischievously, and lord, Gavin felt his pants tighten at that flirtatious little flash. Suddenly, he couldn't stop thinking about all the times he had pinned Sarah beneath him and made her work herself up to a sweat...

  "Uh-oh." Geneva's head was turned (thank God, she had been texting and not really following this recent thread of the conversation). Gavin followed her gaze out the window and noted the ominous clouds rolling in over the horizon. The sea beneath the gathering storm twisted and heaved; farther out, he saw the whitecaps grow to larger waves that were rolling in to smash themselves against the rocky cliff face. "Storm's coming."

  "It's beautiful." Brandy sighed dreamily, and Gavin privately agreed. "Watching from the inside, anyway."

  "The inside," Sarah repeated. She sat up, suddenly alert; her hand in his squeezed his fingers. "Gavin, I have to get back and protect the plants."

  The plants again. He was having such an unexpectedly lovely time that he wanted to say bollocks to her plants, but of course that would be buying himself a one-way ticket to a broken contract. Whether or not he understood why, the garden was important to Sarah... and anyway, why was he the one mourning the sudden ending of the social gathering? Didn't he hate this sort of thing?

  "Sorry, all, but we've got to head back." He waved urgently to their server and paid the check (a line in their agreement that he had insisted on keeping despite Sarah's protests), and he and Sarah rose to go. Everyone else hastened to pay and clambered out after them.

  "It was lovely to meet you." Brandy surprised them all by wrapping Sarah in her arms; then again, everyone else on the outside of the hug was English, not as prone as an American would be to impulsive displays of affection. "Get my number from Gavin. Let's promise to hang out soon, okay? If you ever get tired of your castle, you can come over and visit ours!"

  "Or mine," Tony put in with a flirtatious wink. "I've just about signed off on the one I've been looking at these past months. If you ever get bored hanging around Poindexter here..."

  "Storm's coming." Gavin put his arm around Sarah and tucked her close against him. "Sorry all, but we've got to get going."

  "Let's do this again soon!" Sarah suggested brightly. She waved farewell as Gavin shuttled her out into the thickening afternoon air. He didn't even think to drop his arm from around her until they were in the back seat of the cab driving home, and he noticed the driver glancing curiously at his two passengers in the rearview mirror. It was as if the man half-expected them to take their embrace to the next level.

  Gavin glanced down at Sarah and saw that her cheeks had pinkened. He didn't think it was from the change in the weather. He quickly shifted back over to his side of the seat and turned to look out the window.

  "Storm's coming," he repeated.

  "Looks like it's already arrived," Sarah muttered.

  By the time they made it back to the castle, the downpour was upon them. Sarah half-fell out of the cab and was already sprinting up to the castle's front door while Gavin was paying the fare. There was no time—no time at all to change, much less worry about getting wet herself.

  The garden came first.

  "Sarah, what are you...?" Gavin joined her in the foyer, coat dripping, umbrella soaked and dangling uselessly in his hands, as Sarah pulled on a pair of waders. "Can't you wait until it's passed over us? Come and have some tea."

  His offer warmed her more than the castle interior’s blocking of the gusts of chilly wind outside, but she had a job to do. "Tea would be lovely, Gavin, but I have to get back out there!" For a moment, the gale howling across the stones outside shook her determination. But she couldn't be deterred—not when so much was at stake.

  "I'm going with you." Gavin surprised her by following her through the winding back halls toward the castle's courtyard door. Sarah slowed her pace without thinking to accommodate him, but her heart sped at his offer.

  "What?"

  "You thought I'd let you do this alone?" She heard him snort in disbelief as he pulled the door open for her; no small task, considering the wind was doing everything in its power to seal them inside.

  "But it's the garden, Gavin. You hate the—"

  "You need to put covers over all the new purchases, right?" He had to holler over the roar of the wind as they hastened out into the storm. "What makes you think I wouldn't want a hand in that? If only to prevent the necessity of purchasing more..."

  Sarah couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her rain-stung face at this. "You really hate gardens that much?" she shouted.

  "More than you can imagine!" Gavin returned. But tonight, they were a team: a man and a woman, driven together by sheets of rain, with one goal in mind. It was the first time they had actually shared a priority, and Sarah wasn't about to squander the moment.

  She unlocked the garden shed and began to drag the covers out. She tried not to dwell on the damage the storm had already done. I can fix it, she thought resiliently. For now, all that mattered was saving what remained.

  She was glad to see that most of the flowers had withstood the storm to this point. As she and Gavin worked, side by side, to ensure the covers were properly applied, she couldn't help being distracted by him. She hadn't expected him to be so... gentle. Even in his evident haste to finish the rescue mission and get away from the flowers and out of the rain, he took precious seconds to tuck leaves in and ensure no blossom remained uncovered.

  Sarah's heart swelled. Though she tried to fight her response, she couldn't. She had felt the same way back at the Blue Pearl, watching Gavin interact with those closest to him. As if she had been wrong. As if her understanding of the solitary inventor had been only half-formed from impressions and statements that had done nothing to reflect the man hidden beneath his lonely exterior. Wishful thinking. It had to be. She was in trouble if it was anything else.

  They finished sealing the last of the roses tightly against the rain. When Gavin's hand grazed hers, she thought it was a mistake, but then he grabbed hold and pulled her to her feet. "Come on!" Rain streamed down his face and clumped his eyelashes. Sarah blinked, surprised by the immediacy of the vision—not to mention the striking beauty of the man before her.

  Beautiful? Can a man really be beautiful? She was soaked to her skin and nearly delirious with cold, and maybe that was the reason for her strange thoughts as Gavin towed her toward the castle's back door. They alighted on the step, shielded by the canopy of the tree above. Gavin reached out to give the handle a firm twist.

  Nothing.

  He tried again. Next, he grasped the handle with both hands and tried to force it down.... the very same way Sarah tried to force a laugh down and failed in the next instant.

  "It's locked," he announced as he turned to her, his face bewildered. Thunder boomed overhead, and the wind released a fresh waterfall of rain from the leaves sheltering then, but nothing could dampen the sudden rise in her spirits. The garden was safe, and this... this was too funny.

  Sarah released her pent-up laughter, and Gavin grabbed her. His frustrated expression gave way, and he picked her up as punishment for her mirth, laughing with her all the while. The hard grip of his fingers, his thumbs, tickled her ribcage, as she was sure they were meant to, which only made her laugh harder.

  "You're impossible," Gavin said in exasperation. And when he kissed her the next instant, that, too, felt impossible.

  Oh no, Sarah thought as she sank down into his embrace. Her arms wound around his shoulders, and her lips, slick with rain, slid home against his. This can't happen. Not now. Not a
gain.

  But her thoughts came to her from far off, now, as the past crashed over them like that afternoon's waves against the ancient cliffs. Gavin's lips roamed over her own, seeking that familiar entry point, and she gave way. Their tongues tangled and their breaths came in ecstatic gasps when they could be bothered to breathe at all. Why waste time with all that, when Gavin's kisses might never come again?

  And they couldn't, she warned herself. This was a lapse, a setback... and definitely against the rules of their agreement.

  But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted. So long as she kept her heart under firm control, the firm press of Gavin's fingers couldn't undo her. The ghost of his lips made alive again couldn't haunt her. It was a kiss, that was all.

  Only a kiss.

  6

  Despite his best intentions, Sarah was proving a distraction. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, exposing the elegant curve of her neck to the sun. Her Daisy Dukes (wasn't that what they called them in the States?) were tinier than any pair of denim shorts Gavin had ever clapped eyes on. And he couldn’t seem to avoid clapping eyes on the present pair, repeatedly: every time she crouched down, they bit into the tanned flesh of her thighs in a way he found extremely diverting.

  Every time she got on her hands and knees in the flower bed, hot desire bloomed in his belly.

  What was worse, every time they passed one another on their separate work paths in the solarium, he smelled the sweet peachy aroma of her sunscreen. She smelled to him like summer, like heaven itself. It took him right back to that summer while reminding him that the heaven he remembered was now often only scant inches away.

  Why hadn't he thought to address “distracting behavior” in their work contract?

  "Gavin?" Sarah called over to him, her voice sounding tentative.

  Gavin turned, for once grateful to be distracted. He had been staring at the same panel for fifteen minutes now. "Hm?"

  But she was silent. Turning away from his work, he found her face flushed from more than sun. "Sorry to interrupt you. I know you're busy."

  If only she knew how many precious work hours he had squandered, lost in his private fantasies of her, she would probably retract her apology and run straight for the hills. Or straight for the master bedroom, shedding clothes in her wake... He wished. "I'm not too busy. Do you require my help?"

  Sarah nodded. "Yes, please. I’ve got a large pot in the back of the pickup. I was able to lift it at the nursery, but I had assistance, and..."

  "Say no more."

  He followed her outside, hating himself for watching the way those thighs of hers worked to boost the rest of her up into the bed of the pickup. He rolled his sleeves higher and held out his arms for the pot as she pushed it toward him.

  He enjoyed physical labor. Too often, he found himself stuck behind a desk without an outlet for moving his body; worse, to his thinking, were those people in his life who tried to dissuade him from engaging physically on account of his limp.

  But not Sarah. She not only trusted him but relied on him now to get the job done. Working together, hands brushing in a way he found maddening, bodies angling such that Gavin was certain only he found it suggestive... working together, they moved the pot to its intended place inside the solarium.

  "Can you tell me a bit more about what you're inventing up there?" Sarah's question caught him off guard as he was about to break away. Gavin paused, readjusting his sleeves, as Sarah nodded to the roof over their heads as if worried her question hadn't been clear enough in its own right. "It sounds intriguing, that's all."

  "It is intriguing." His automatic response struck him as arrogant, and he backtracked quickly before she could get the wrong idea. "At least, that is my enduring hope. I hope that it will be interesting enough to attract investors and buyers both when all is said and done."

  "It caught my attention," Sarah said encouragingly. "So what is it, exactly?"

  "It's a roof that will extend and retract itself according to the needs of the user," Gavin explained. "It can be programmed however you want, but for a solarium like this one, I've set it to open for light-to-medium rain showers, and to close when it storms."

  "It can tell the weather?" Sarah looked awed as she turned her face up to the sun beaming through the gap in the ceiling.

  Gavin nodded. "And temperature. I'm currently programming it to close when the heat becomes too intense, or in response to a cold snap. It's difficult to nail down the right parameters when we're experiencing neither at the moment, but having the sun out today helps." And hinders, he amended privately as his eyes lingered once more on Sarah's outfit. She was hardly dressed salaciously, but he couldn't seem to help feasting on every visible inch of her creamy skin. He remembered how bronzed she had once been, all those years ago, in the summer... how he had lavished his tongue along her bikini tan lines until she writhed and begged beneath him...

  "...Gavin?" she asked him.

  Gavin blinked. "Huh?"

  To his surprise, Sarah giggled shyly and tucked a blonde lock of hair back behind her ear. He found himself obsessing over how the faintest bit of moisture made it curl at her temples. She was obviously warm in the stuffy solarium, and so was he. They could open more windows. Or they could take their clothes off...

  "I asked what you've been up to these past three years," she said, repeating for his benefit what had evidently been her initial question. "Have you been procrastinating on more projects by seducing unsuspecting American women?"

  Gavin snorted and pretended to find something interesting to pore over concerning the roof panel. At least that way, she couldn't see the spots of sudden color in his cheeks as a result of being called out, nor could she see the hungry look in his eye he was afraid he couldn't disguise. "Hardly. I've been back at the company dithering behind a desk, for the most part."

  "Your family's tech company?"

  "Is there any other?" He raked a hand through his own sweat-dampened hair, wishing, not for the first time, that there was more of it. He felt less like himself, and more like the dutiful son his mother wished him to be, when it was tamed this close to his scalp. "I'd almost forgotten. The Burrows empire feels big enough to fill the entire world most of the time."

  "You're not that big," Sarah teased him.

  "Am I not?"

  Her cheeks flushed, making Gavin glad for his lapse in decorum. God, how he wanted to take this conversation beyond its contractually safe innuendo. How he wanted to take her, Sarah, to his bed, and never let her out from beneath him, not for another three years, at least. They hadn't discussed the kiss, but he couldn't get it off his mind. There was no denying they had broken the rules already, but both seemed to have come to a silent understanding that to remark on it out loud would throw their whole arrangement into jeopardy.

  "Someone's feeling confident today," she said finally. "What's gotten into you, Mr. Burrows?"

  You know what's gotten into me. He kept his mouth shut, but conveyed the truth with a look that made Sarah turn away and fidget with the strands of hair she had already replaced behind her ear. Too many memories of getting into you.

  This woman brought out the beastly side of him like no woman had before or since their long-ago fling. And really, how far removed was three years from the present day? Surely Sarah could still entertain the details of their encounters as vividly as he could.

  "I should get back to... plants. Er, planting." Sarah gestured vaguely toward the potted flora she had been organizing.

  Gavin nodded, throat too dry to respond. He needed a drink of water so he wouldn't continue to try and slake his thirst with images of her. He was about ready to break the rules again, to throw out clauses and stipulations, throw Sarah up against a solarium wall, and have his wicked way with her.

  She chose that moment to walk away from him, which was probably a good thing. She did glance back once, gaze shy, expression thoughtful, and Gavin couldn't help his reflexive smile when their eyes met. God, it
was good to see her. To be near her. To entertain thoughts of those lush lips pressed firmly against his own.

  Nothing in the contract, after all, restricted thinking.

  7

  It wasn’t just distraction that Gavin was struggling with today.

  “Something the matter?” Sarah’s blonde head tipped into view and interfered with his line of vision, which was fine. He was going cross-eyed anyway, staring so long at the damn system.

  “Nothing.” He sat back on his heels and scratched at the side of his head. His hair was growing out again; he wondered how long he could get away with it this time before his mother would demand that he cut it. If his inventing had been going any better, he wouldn’t spare a thought to it; he would grow it as long as he wanted—to his arse, if he liked.

  But it wasn’t going. And when Sarah raised a skeptical eyebrow at his deflection, he knew the gig was up. “Just troubleshooting.”

  “What’s the trouble?” she asked him.

  They were alone in the solarium again today, just the two of them. And while Gavin found that he could appreciate a silver lining in being distracted by Sarah (mainly in the form of filing away images of her in tight shorts and sweat-soaked t-shirts), today he was frustrated. It had been seven days since the sun had last shone directly on the solarium roof—and seven days since Sarah had last worn those shorts, not that he was counting—and he was starting to encounter unforeseen problems with the self-cleaning mechanism.

  “You’re washing the panels yourself?” Sarah prompted when he didn’t respond right away. “Is that… anticipated? Seems like a flaw in your system.”

  “It is a flaw,” Gavin snapped a little too quickly. She wasn’t the one he was irritated with, but this was partly why he liked to work alone. He rarely needed other minds to collaborate with his own; all he required was time. Time to work through problems himself before presenting his product to the eyes of an audience. “The sun hasn’t been shining, and it appears the self-cleaning glass coating isn’t effective as a result. So I’m manually washing the panels.”