“I will,” he promised. And, hours later, after his mother had gone, he found himself wandering the castle garden, remembering happier times. Times when he hadn’t been alone.
He could see now that happiness had come and gone, like a rare, migrating bird.
And that happiness had been Sarah.
* * *
“… so you see, that’s why I can’t accept your money,” Sarah concluded.
She held the check out to her aunt and uncle. In fact, she had been holding it out for quite some time now; her arm was starting to ache, but she persevered. She knew the whole story was a lot to process, but she had expected them to understand.
“Sarah…” Sarah saw Jean cut an uncertain look at her husband as if to see how he was taking this unusual explanation. Matthew Hanson was proving harder to read than his wife.
Sarah gave it another moment, then she gently laid the folded-up check down on the kitchen table between the three of them. She still hadn’t opened it to look at the amount. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to do that. The money had never been hers.
Now, she just had to make them see that.
“We’ll hold on to this for you,” her uncle said finally.
“Matthew?” Her aunt looked shocked by his decision, but Matthew just shook his head.
“We will, Jean. We’ve held on to the money for this long. We’ll safeguard it now until Sarah and Gavin come to their senses.”
“I beg your pardon?” Sarah would have laughed if she didn’t so desperately want to cry. “This money’s yours, Uncle Matt. It’s always been yours. Gavin and I, we…”
“Sarah, take it from a man who’s been in love for over thirty years now: that man is in love with you,” her uncle stated flatly.
“It’s true, Sarah,” Aunt Jean chimed in. “We saw it the first moment we laid eyes on the two of you together.”
“And you’re in love with him,” Uncle Matthew concluded.
Damn if he didn’t look a little smug at that. Like he’d just scored a winning shot against her in a game she didn’t even know how to play. “How can you be sure?” she spluttered. “Even if the two of you are right, Gavin… he’s not the marrying type. Not really. And he doesn’t want a family the way I do. He doesn’t want kids.”
“Give it time,” Jean advised. “How much have the two of you discussed it, really?”
“So we’ll hold on to this for you,” her uncle repeated as he pulled the check across the table to himself and pocketed it.
“Maybe I don’t want family. My family is crazy,” Sarah muttered to herself as she headed out the door and got in the car. She had one more stop to make before she could consider her business in Scarborough concluded. She drove an hour to her destination, barely processing anything except the road signs and certainly coming to no satisfying conclusions.
Yes, just one more matter to attend to. Then she could run away from all this for good.
“I figured Gavin had told you the truth by now.” Sarah blushed as she held out the golden locket to Olivia Burrows in her office. “So you understand why I can’t accept this.”
“I’d be lying if I said I understood any of it,” Olivia replied with a starkly arched eyebrow. “But then, I suppose telling falsehoods runs in my family.”
“Please don’t be angry with Gavin, Mrs. Burrows. I know he has a strange way of going about things, but—“
“That son of mine is damn eccentric. There were many times throughout the years that I wondered if he’d lost his mind, but none of those have made me wonder as much as today has.”
It shouldn’t have affected her so much to know that Olivia had seen Gavin as recently as today. Sarah doubted that she’d ever see him again, and she couldn’t help feeling achingly envious of the woman sitting across from her. What she wouldn’t give to have any conversation at all with that eccentric inventor they both loved, even if it did end in an argument and tears. Anything would be better than the stilted, businesslike conclusion to their contract.
“And I’m starting to wonder if he’s as intelligent as I’ve always supposed,” Olivia continued as she took the locket back. “Because he’s a fool if he lets you go.”
“He’s the smartest fool I know,” Sarah replied with tears in her eyes. She tried to muster a smile.
“Stop that,” Olivia said. “Oh, hell. Process however you want to, love, but don’t put on any airs for my sake. You were nearly my daughter, you know.” She pressed her lips in a thin line. “I’m sure Gavin would tell you that you were lucky to avoid such a fate.”
On the way home, Sarah stopped at the beach to take one last walk along the shoreline she loved. The wind tossed her hair, and the gulls circling overhead cried mournfully. She tipped her chin up to the sky, letting the briny air whip her face and sting her lungs. She breathed in this life that had nearly been hers, one last time.
But now, she had to look toward a new life. Just because London didn’t hold her heart didn’t mean her possibilities there were lackluster. She could do this job… for her aunt and uncle’s sake. They could keep the money, and she could help them out from afar. And she’d be back to visit, of course, for the holidays—and heaven forbid, if her aunt got sick again…
“Ugh.” Sarah sat down on a boulder and drew her knees up to her chest. A part of her wanted to simply let the tide come in and strand her there; she wanted all choice taken away from her.
But no other choice remained. She had already made up her mind. And she had no alternative but to trust in her mind because her heart had steered her wrong, yet again, pulling her out to stormy seas she wasn’t prepared to deal with. The memory of Gavin’s dark eyes dominated her vision behind her own eyelids every time she closed them.
“I’m in love with you.” She pulled at her hair like a madwoman, then buried her face in her hands. “Can’t you see I’m in love with you?”
She let her tears flow again, unrestrained, as the wind carried her confession from her and out to sea.
14
"So you got dumped." Tony gazed at him sympathetically, allowing his pint to dangle in the air in case Gavin decided he wanted to toast, a sensitive move on his part in Gavin’s estimation, if it had mattered. Which it did not. "Feels bad, mate. I can tell by that sorry look on your face."
"Ease up, Tony," Max advised from the other side of the table. The three generally occupied stools at the bar, but today was different. Today, Gavin's problems were steering the entire conversation; instead of trade information, updates, and mutual sympathies about work, life, and love, Tony and Max had him pinned like a specimen beneath their glass case of scrutiny.
"No. I didn't get dumped." Gavin turned his pint around and around in its watery ring. Three drained glasses sat empty beside him already, and the fourth one in his hand was halfway to joining its comrades.
Just enough liquid courage to make him finally blurt out the truth. "I didn't get dumped because I never had Sarah in the first place."
"What do you mean, 'never had her'?" Tony exchanged a confused look with Max, but the latter only shrugged. Max had always been better at listening than Tony, who considered “listening” an active pastime. "You guys never...?"
"No, we did. I mean, that's not what I'm talking about."
"It's not?"
"No, Tony, it's not!" Gavin snapped. He brought his pint down hard enough to rattle the table, drawing more than a few stares from his neighbors, but he was beyond caring at this point. He didn't care if all of the Boar's Head, or even the population of Scarborough itself, knew the truth of how badly he had cocked things up. "I never had Sarah because she was never really my fiancée. Our engagement was a fraud."
"Nothing about it looked fraudulent to me," Tony commented.
Good lord, was the man thick? How had they remained friends for so long? Gavin opened his mouth to argue, then saw Max’s look. "What?" he demanded. He was drunk beyond knowing what the other man's expression telegraphed.
"Tony's right
," Max said. "There was nothing fake about you and Sarah. Not from where I was standing. You may call up Brandy if you doubt me and ask her opinion."
"Your wife is a romance writer," Gavin replied, but his argument sounded pathetic in his own ears.
"Which is exactly why she knows what she's talking about." Max gripped his elbows and leaned forward on his forearms. "Gavin, you've railed against family for all the years I've known you. But I've never seen you happier than I have these past weeks."
"That's right enough," Tony cut in. "You're a miserable bastard at the best of times, and solitude doesn't make it much better, mate. Maybe what you needed all along was not no family, in so many words, but maybe your own family. One you get to pick out for yourself. You keep the old, but you choose the new."
Gavin sat back, overwhelmed and needing to process all that his friends were saying. "But Sarah, she's... she's already headed for London," he said, feeling pathetic. "She has a job waiting for her."
"She has more waiting for her here," Max said diplomatically. "If you let her know what she stands to miss out on."
"If you tell her you love her," Tony explained as if Gavin were the thick one.
Oh hell, maybe he was the thick one. Gavin rose, and the others rose with him, but he didn't need his mates to steady him. What he needed now, and what he had needed all along, was Sarah Hanson. She could reject him and make a fool of him, but he would be in no worse position than he was now. He felt both of those things, and more.
He would call her.
He was already formulating a plan. He wouldn't wait to sober up—he had the wordage all worked out in his head. He would extend her an invitation he knew she couldn't resist.
And at least he would get to see her face one last time.
* * *
"I confess this is… unexpected."
You could say that again. A day later, and Sarah Hanson was back on his doorstep. Gavin had extended the invitation, of course—an offer to renew the gardening part of their contract, and to put Jean and Matthew Hansons’ names and business down in Sarah’s stead. But he had half-expected her to tell him to sod off when he’d called her and found out she was already at the airport.
I can’t afford to mess this up again. Not this time. “Would you… like to come in?” Gavin invited her. He wanted to shake his head at himself for sounding so stilted.
Sarah moved to step by him, then retreated and shook her head. “Maybe we had better walk around back,” she suggested. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
That wayward lock had been driving him mad, and he was only further aggravated now that he hadn’t reached between them to do it himself. “To the garden.”
“I know where the garden is.”
“Right.”
What the hell was the matter with him? Why was his heart beating fit to burst out of his chest? Gavin invited her anew with a wave of his arm to lead the way, and Sarah pivoted on her heel to take them along the path to the gate. He glanced through the window of her rental car and saw that her luggage took up the majority of the space in the back seat. Observing the reality of what he stood to lose steeled him for what he had to do. “Sarah, I may as well admit now that I lied to you,” he said as they walked.
“What? Dangling a new garden contract to lure me here might not have anything to do with an actual contract?” Sarah quipped.
So she knew. She knew he had looked for any excuse to see her again… more than that, she had agreed to come anyway. Maybe there was hope.
“No. The offer is real,” Gavin said. “But I also wanted to show you something.”
They turned the corner into the inner courtyard, and Sarah froze. “That?” she asked, indicating the plaque beneath the Starfire peach tree. “When did you have that installed?”
“Yesterday. It was a last-minute change.” Gavin swept a hand toward it. “Why don’t you read it?”
She glanced sideways at him, blue eyes suspicious, but did as instructed. She stepped up to the plaque and let her gaze scan across the immortalized words.
“Gavin…” Her voice quivered. “This…”
“I named the garden after you,” he said. “All of it. Whether you accept my proposal or not, it’s yours.”
“What proposal? You mean the garden proposal—?”
Gavin lowered himself on one knee, and Sarah cut her question off abruptly. Her hands gravitated to her mouth as he reached into the pocket of his jacket.
“Sarah…”
“Stop,” she interrupted him. “Before you say anything more. Do you promise this is for real? Because right now, I feel like I’m in a dream.”
Gavin paused to consider this, then chuckled and shook his head. “I promise you’re not dreaming. Not any more than I am, anyway. I admit, I’ve felt as if I were in a dream ever since I was reunited with you. I can’t stop thinking to myself: how is this possible? How can a woman like this keep coming into my life? And then I realized how easy it would be to lose you, Sarah.” He drew the ring box from his pocket and held her eyes with his as he eased it open. She wasn’t even looking at the ring. She was looking right at him, absorbing every word. “And I don’t want to lose you. Not again.”
“Okay,” she whispered into her hands, then drew them away so she could make herself better heard. “And one final question. This is a real proposal, right?”
“A real proposal for a real engagement,” Gavin confirmed. “Sarah, there’s nothing I want more in this life than to spend the rest of it with you. Will you make me the happiest man in Scarbor—“
Before he could complete his thought, Sarah flung herself against him with a delighted cry. Gavin dropped the ring box and wrapped her in his arms, laughing; her tackle threw him off balance, and they collapsed together in a heap beneath the tree. “Is that a ‘yes’?”
“What, do you need it in writing?” Sarah smothered his face in happy kisses, and that was all the sign-off Gavin Burrows needed.
Finally, at long last, Sarah Hanson was going to be his wife.
15
“Now, you promise to throw a more formal dinner once you’re married?” Gavin’s mother, Olivia Burrows, demanded sternly.
The family was gathered to celebrate their engagement—their real engagement. Gavin’s family vastly outnumbered her own, and under normal circumstances, Sarah might have been intimidated, or even envious… but not today. Starting tonight, she considered the Burrowses her own family… and maybe, secretly, she had begun to love them as her own even before that.
"No promises," Gavin grumbled, but his shoulders were loose and his posture relaxed, and Sarah knew he was only playing a part for his mother. Even Olivia seemed in on the joke and socked him playfully in the shoulder—although Sarah did notice the hit connected pretty solidly for such a small woman. Olivia was tiny but formidable—and Sarah wasn't about to forget it. She'd have been intimidated by her future mother-in-law if she hadn't decided to admire and emulate her.
Not that Gavin needed to know that.
"Can I steal you for a moment, beautiful?"
Sarah turned in surprise from her conversation with Gavin's next-oldest brother, Samuel. "Are you talking to me?" She batted her eyes for show, then wiggled her finger at the speaker, making her engagement ring dance and gleam. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm taken."
It was Gavin who had made the overture, and he did not look overly amused by her charade. Sarah thought she was flirting successfully, but that remained to be seen... "Sarah, I need to see you in my office for a moment to finalize a matter for the wedding."
Sarah's expression fell. "What? Now?"
"Yes. Now. It will only take a moment."
"You had better go with him," advised Samuel, a younger version of his brother, his default expression far less stern. "The sooner you do, the sooner he'll allow you back."
"I wouldn't count on it," Sarah muttered and let out a yip when Gavin snagged her arm impatiently and began to drag her after him. "Hey! Excuse me!"
Sarah's heart fluttered as Gavin towed her from the dining room and down the long hallway toward the stairs. Was that really what he thought? Didn't he know that she was his partner, his lover, and all the rest was incidental? "Gavin, I'm going to be your wife," she said quietly, but the statement wasn't lacking significance simply because she whispered it. "You know I'll never side against you in anything, right? We're a team now."
Gavin paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned back to her. Sarah's heart hitched in its fluttering. "I know that." He smiled. "But it's good to hear you say it. I just had to get you away, somehow."
"What's this really about?" Her curiosity was aroused, but Gavin merely shook his head, smiled secretively (and in a way that was very self-pleased, she thought), and took her hand in earnest. He led her past the staircase. They weren't going to his office.
Sarah was surprised as hell to find them both in the garden five minutes later. Gavin had come around to being outside there, of course—she even thought, or hoped, a part of him had begrudgingly grown to enjoy and admire it—but she hadn't expected him to lead her there now. "Gavin? What...?"
She broke off her question with a gasp. Gavin's hand, the one not holding hers, rested in his pocket; he must have concealed a remote there because, suddenly, they were surrounded by hundreds of dazzling fairy lights strung between the trees. How had he pulled this off without her noticing? Unless her lunch date with Geneva in Scarborough today had all been part of some bigger plan...
"Walk with me." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, the lingering look in his eyes beseeching. There was no denying him what he wanted when he gazed at her that way... and being the master negotiator he was, he probably knew it.
The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée: European Tycoon Book Two Page 9