The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée: European Tycoon Book Two

by North, Leslie

  Sarah nodded, and they strolled together down the path in the direction of her favorite alcove. "I hope we'll be taking a lot of walks like this once we're married," she mentioned as their fingers intertwined slowly, lazily. "I never thought the garden I poured my heart and soul into might actually be mine."

  "You never thought we were inevitable?" She could practically hear the raised eyebrow in Gavin's voice; the shadows cast by the dangling lights did their best to disguise it from her, but she knew her intended from bottom to top and back again. "Not even once?"

  She put up a hand in pledge. "I plead the Fifth."

  "I understand that expression enough to know it's American, and that I've heard it mentioned in crime dramas."

  "Good." Sarah grinned. "You're learning. That means you... you... oh, Gavin, you didn't."

  The enchanting strings of lights hadn't been the only novelties installed while she was away. Sarah gasped and pulled her hand from his so she could cover her mouth; she fought back tears as she stared at the swing, her swing, reordered and expertly constructed, standing before her eyes. It looked even better than the catalogue listing for it. A gentle breeze rocked it as the lights tinkled above.

  "You know how I know you like it?" Gavin stooped to whisper in her ear. "You're already crying more than you did when I proposed to you."

  "The fake proposal, or the real proposal?" Sarah socked him in the shoulder to let him know she was on to him, because of course he was exaggerating. Still, in that moment, standing together, beholding a scene her heart had given up on yearning to see, there was no exaggerating how touched she was. “But Gavin, are you sure about this?” She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “The first time I wanted to install the swing, your reaction to it was pretty definite.”

  “You never asked me how I got my limp.” A deep shadow passed across his face against the darkness above them, but for once, Sarah didn’t feel as if it concealed his expression. This was Gavin opening a door to the past, taking her hand as they stepped together over the threshold. “My brother, Samuel, pushed me off a garden swing not unlike this one when I was a child. We were just goofing around, but I broke my leg in three places.” Gavin exhaled deeply, and she had the feeling he was expelling a ghost that had haunted him over the years.

  “It never healed properly?” she asked in a small, incredulous voice.

  Gavin gave a slow shake of his head. “During the recovery period, my family decided they wanted to tour the gardens of England. Not their finest idea.” He chuckled, then shook his head again. “But I pushed myself. I lied about the pain, and I ignored the doctor’s orders at every turn.”

  “You were just a boy,” Sarah soothed him.

  “I know.” His hand found the one she rested on his shoulder and gave a squeeze of gratitude. “It took me years to come to terms with the limp. And gardens… they always triggered that latent anger in me. The regret. But that was before you came back into my life.” He leaned close to plant a gentle kiss on her temple, soft as the brush of a moth’s wings. “Now, gardens remind me of you.”

  Sarah’s eyes were wet with tears, but she was determined not to let them fall. Gavin’s story hadn’t been a sad one, after all—how could a memory be truly, enduringly sad if it led to a happy outcome in the present?

  "What are you waiting for?" Gavin grinned, his excitement infectious, stirring her heart to deeper joy. "Try it out."

  "You, first," she suggested. When he looked confused, Sarah sighed, shook her head in exasperation, and placed two hands on his chest to guide him backward toward the swing. Gavin sank down onto it, and she followed, positioning herself on top of him; his hands came up to catch her by the waist as she climbed aboard.

  "You're not wearing underwear," he said approvingly as the same breeze that had rocked the swing caught the short hem of her dress and let nothing beneath remain to his imagination.

  "Uh-huh," she agreed with a nod. "I made plans for this evening before you ever unveiled your own."

  "I can see... that..." Gavin gave up on sensible conversation and instead gave over to a groan as he pulled her close. They began rocking the swing themselves, not leaving it to the wind, moving together in rhythm, sighing and shivering; midway through, Gavin had the thought to fumble for the remote and switched the garden lights off. They slipped into shadow, sliding against each other, as the night stars unfurled around them in all their splendor.

  Epilogue

  "Married, and five months pregnant." Sarah summed up her situation as she clinked glasses with Gavin's sister, Geneva. She was drinking sparkling cider, of course, the only one celebrating that evening at the castle sans alcohol, meaning the bottle her aunt and uncle had gifted her was all hers. Besides, she could swear she felt a delighted little series of kicks every time she swallowed some of that electric sunshine. Tonight, she found the feeling of being with child heavenly... but of course, that was only part of the time. Pregnancy certainly had its ups and downs, but all she had to do was glance across the room at Gavin and remember who the father was.

  Yes, it certainly had its ups and downs. Sarah smiled secretly and let her lips linger near her glass, content to let Geneva talk as she thought about the evening's surprise.

  "There he goes," Geneva said suddenly, and Sarah looked up. Gavin had mounted the lip of the solarium's fountain and now stood on his makeshift stage, looking tall, dark, and regal in the suit she'd chosen for him that evening. In one hand, he held a champagne flute; in the other, a remote control. Her gaze lingered on the wedding band adorning his hand, and her heart fluttered as it always did.

  Gavin Burrows. My husband. I'm Sarah Burrows now. It was a strange and beautiful thing to go your whole life responding to a name and then choose to assume an entirely different one. Now, wherever she went, she felt as if she took Gavin with her—and after three years' separation from the man who was the love of her life, Sarah couldn't see herself tiring of being Mrs. Burrows anytime soon.

  "Attention, everyone." Gavin rapped the side of his glass with the remote—a total tech guy gesture that melted Sarah's heart. His expression was serious, and she thought that maybe behind the facade, he was nervous. Even surrounded by friends and family this evening, Gavin elected to conduct himself as if he were presenting at a business meeting. "You've all chosen a beautiful evening to gather here with us, and I'd hate for you to miss out on seeing one star of it. So, considering there's no rain in the forecast..."

  Gavin thumbed a button on the remote and looked heavenward. Every other pair of eyes followed his gaze, and a gasp of approval went up as the new roof debuted in all its glory. It slid away as if it were made of liquid, revealing the velvet-dark sky above.

  Sarah wound her way through the murmuring crowd to join her husband at the fountain. She slipped her hand inside his arm, and Gavin glanced down. Wherever he went when preoccupied with his inventions, her slightest touch could call him back. She had never experienced a look as deep as those Gavin could give her.

  "One more surprise?" she suggested with an arched eyebrow.

  "What? Another one?" Gavin's mother crowed. "Don't tell us the floor slides back, too?"

  "I'm saving that one for the family reunion at Christmas," Gavin joked as he stepped down to join Sarah on the floor of the solarium. "And speaking of family... Kristan, Curtis? I wonder if you wouldn't mind doing the honors?"

  Gavin's youngest siblings, fraternal twins, exchanged perfectly synchronized looks. Sarah's heart raced as she watched Gavin direct them toward the covered structure that had been the mysterious centerpiece of the evening.

  "What is this about, sweetheart?" Sarah's uncle was at her side, already pleasantly drunk, and newly pleasantly perplexed.

  As the twins pulled off the curtain, Sarah saw her aunt's hands fly to her mouth. She gets it, she thought proudly.

  For the benefit of everyone, she said, "Certain information has come to our attention, and Gavin and I agreed that one swing wasn't going to be enough."

&nbs
p; "Oh, my darling girl." Her aunt's gray eyes leaked tears of joy, and Sarah soon joined her. She set her glass aside and flung her arms around her aunt's neck.

  "What? Did you really think one baby alone could make me this fat?" Sarah laughed. She loved her newly padded curves—and so did Gavin, for that matter. "Please consider this Gavin's and my official announcement. It looks like twins run in the Burrows family!"

  Kristan and Curtis yelped ecstatically and high-fived, then barreled into Gavin from opposite angles for a shared hug. Gavin's two other siblings joined him and congratulated him with more champagne toasts. Gavin's mother, Olivia, approached Sarah with a sly smile and a shake of her head.

  "What an announcement," she said approvingly. "You have a flair for the dramatic, my dear. Are you sure you don't want to come and work for the family company?"

  Sarah grinned. "I already work for the family company." She looped her arms around her aunt’s and uncle's shoulders, feeling the beloved couple who had become her surrogate parents straighten proudly in response. "But I could really use help with the twins. I have no idea what I'm getting into. I could use a mother-in-law with experience."

  Olivia chuckled. "Oh, it will be an experience all right. But you'll never have to do it alone. You're family now—and that's the only business that matters." She winked at Sarah and stepped aside. Gavin's tall frame filled the void his mother left: straight-backed, confident, purposeful. He strode to Sarah and wrapped her in his arms.

  "I love you, Mrs. Burrows," he whispered into her ear.

  "I love you, Mr. Burrows."

  Their love was big enough to fill ten solariums, with room to grow.

  End of The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée

  European Tycoon Book Two

  The Tycoon’s Pregnant Lover, 30 January 2020

  The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée, 6 February 2020

  The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride, 13 February 2020

  Do you want to be swept off your feet? Please keep reading for a preview from my next book The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride and The Billionaire’s Sham Girlfriend.

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for purchasing my book. It’s hard for me to put into words how much I appreciate my readers. If you enjoyed this book, please remember to leave a review. Reviews are crucial for an author’s success and I would greatly appreciate it if you took the time to review the book. I love hearing from you!

  You can leave a review at:

  About Leslie

  Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.

  Find your next Leslie North book visit LeslieNorthBooks.com or choose:

  PS: Want sneak peeks, giveaways, ARC offers, fun extras and plenty of pictures of bad boys? Join my Facebook group, Leslie’s Lovelies!

  BLURB

  To billionaire Anthony Charles Harrington V, everything is about business. Including marriage. All he needs is a society wife who will give him an heir and he’s completely prepared to marry a woman he doesn’t love or desire to secure his fifth-generation company’s future. Until he meets Diana Tinsley. She’s quirky and the kind of free spirit he’s looking to spend time with before he settles down. Using all his considerable charm, he convinces Diana to have a one-week fling, just a lark with no strings attached. But when Diana shows up at his door two months later, he realizes their “no-strings” affair will have long-term consequences: Diana is pregnant. Nothing could be more… perfect. He’ll get his heir, get his wife, and focus on his business. He just needs to get Diana to agree to a marriage of convenience.

  Diana is reluctant about the marriage idea at first. She can’t imagine giving up her job as a nurse to become a society wife, but eventually her practical side wins out. Her child will have a secure future and she’ll be able continue her life as usual. She doesn’t count on her attraction to Tony—which was already fierce—growing even hotter. Worse, she thinks she might be falling in love, which was totally against their agreement. This marriage of convenience isn’t turning out to be as convenient as she’d thought it would. Just when she believes the two of them might have a real marriage, Tony brutally reminds her that love is not an option. But running away doesn’t seem a workable solution to her problems... or is it?

  The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride

  Available 13 February 2020

  LeslieNorthBooks.com

  * * *

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  "You're late."

  Anthony Charles Harrington the Fifth—Tony to his friends—revolved slowly on his barstool to face the (albeit misdirected) music. His lean frame was presently decorating the bar at the Dunes Restaurant in Queens Beach, a small town in the Fiji Islands. Here, he had expected to be left alone: unbothered by outside recognition, paparazzi, family and work engagements, and certainly unbothered by engagements of another kind. He had not expected to be approached by anyone reproving him for taking a vacation, much less run afoul of a fellow expat.

  "You're English," he returned in surprise. This was probably not his best effort at introduction to what was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met in his life, but he was just warming up.

  She stood on the restaurant floor below the elevated section of the bar, hands on her hips. Young, mid-twenties, maybe—but she had a command of herself that aroused his curiosity almost at once. Running his eye up and down her figure, he thought he discerned an air of being well-traveled. His own travels had developed in him an instinct for this sort of thing. Her eyes were as lush a color and as animated as the green tropical waters outside the bar; her skin, like his, was tan and her hair a rich brown that, as she tilted her head, revealed an unexpected series of dazzling red highlights. Suiting the tropical temperature of their surroundings, she wore a cotton shirt and shorts. Tony couldn't help wondering what color the bikini underneath might be. She had to be wearing one, right? This was Fiji, for God’s sake. It couldn’t be all work and no play, despite her all-business posture at the moment. Then again, the way she arched her back and pushed out those perfectly palm-sized breasts of hers... maybe all-work didn’t have to be all-work.

  The stunner’s eyes swept the room, surveying the open-air terrain of the restaurant. Tony already knew she’d find it all but abandoned. "Or... you're early? I guess they weren't totally exact about the time. Are any other members of your team here with you?”

  His team? Tony honestly had no idea what she was talking about. He had come to the Fiji Islands entirely alone, intent on enjoying his time entirely alone...

  ...at least, until he had spotted her. He smiled his best disarming smile. “No. No team, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, that’s all right.” The woman wiped her hand on her shorts and presented it to him. “I’m Diana Tinsley. One of the nurses here doing aid work.”

  “...Tony.” He accepted her hand and was impressed by the enthusiasm of her handshake. Few of the men he worked with could have matched that sort of energy; hell, none of the men he worked with were capable of doing what she did. He would stake his fortune on that. “Tony Harrington.”

  “Right. Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington.” He had been testing the waters in giving her his last name, but she soldiered on, apparently unbothered. She clearly did not put two and two together: that he belonged to Harrington Enterprises. “Since you’re here about the media promotion, I figured I could start us off with a tour?”

  “Er... yes.” He turned to the bartender who had come around with his check. “Keep my tab open. I’ll be back.” He smiled winningly, and the man nodded. When he turned back to Diana, he found her eyes narrowed.

  “Is your company aware of your day-drinking, Mr. Harrington?” She waved a dismissive hand, obviously deciding the timing wasn’t right for a lecture. “...you know what? Never mind. Drink as much or as
little as you want to. As a volunteer nurse here, I recommend you drink water.” She pulled a small plastic bottle from her bag, shoved it into his hands, and turned to begin the tour.

  Tony blinked. He had no idea if part of her aid business was handing out water to thirsty-looking people, but he was grateful. He twisted the cap off and took an appreciative swig as he followed after her.

  There was no harm in seeing how this played out, was there? Besides, he hadn’t told any outright lies.

  Yet.

  He was content to let the fiery-haired beauty do the decision-making for him. He had come to Fiji to relax, and having an entire persona ready-built for himself by somebody else fit superbly into his plans, so far as he was concerned. “Lead the way,” he told his tour guide. Unnecessarily, as it turned out. She was already charging ahead, and he was already falling into step behind her.

  “Well, this won’t be a pub crawl, Mr. Harrington, I can tell you that much,” Diana informed him as they stepped down off the raised restaurant floor together. “If you’re going to help us raise awareness for impoverished children’s medical needs, then I’m going to show you exactly what those needs are.” She scrutinized him a bit closer. “Are you writing this down?”

  “I am.” Thankfully, he always carried an old school pad and miniature pencil in his back pocket to jot down business ideas. Gavin had recommended that to him, once—and Tony was pretty sure his mate had gotten the idea from Arianna Huffington.