“That is quite all right, Brandon. We can greet them ourselves,” Landon says, shaking off the butler’s words.
“As you wish,” Brandon says, shutting the door behind us. “Geoffrey and Fiona are here as well.”
“Of course they are,” Landon says, smiling tightly.
I watch the exchange, trying to be present, and as observant as possible. I need to be one hundred percent on my A-game. Landon is counting on me. And so are my daughter and mother, even if they don’t know it.
Walking down the hall, Landon blows air out of his cheeks, seemingly upset.
“Stop.” I tug on his arm, spin him to look at me. “Before we go in there, you need to remember something. You are Landon, the hottest man I know. You are the King of Vegas, in ways a guy like Ace never will be. You aren’t the mafia boss’s son. You are the heir to a freaking castle. You are a badass. And you need to remember that. Don’t let your brother make you feel less-than. We are in this together.”
In this moment, what I really want is for this to be real. As ridiculous as that is, for a split second all I want is us to actually be engaged and meeting his family for the first time. I want the feeling of being in it with someone else. Forever.
For five years it’s been Sophia and me against the world. Earlier, when I texted my mom in the car, letting her know I got here safely, I wondered what Landon would say if I told him the truth—the truth about having a daughter, and the truth about everything else. Would he still go through this arrangement with me? Still want me as his fake fiancée?
I know one thing: if he knew the truth I’d never be the real deal. The real fiancée, the real wife.
I brush my foolish wishes away; at the same moment, Landon brushes a strand of hair from my face. His eyes search mine, and his lips press against my lips. In an instant he has me against the wall, and my hands run through his hair.
His kiss searches all of me, as if he’s trying to find a way to believe in the words I spoke. My words, meant to encourage him, seem to have ignited a passion. A desire. My words seem to be working.
Other parts of me are working, too. My panties get wet as he presses himself against me. His cock is right against my belly, and all I can visualize is him and me together, sprawled out on some enormous bed in this castle, him fucking me all night.
Which, I know—not a part of the job description.
But, oh God, as Landon’s tongue slides into my mouth, deepening our kiss, I want other parts to slide into me as well.
“What the hell is going on here?” A nasal voice draws Landon and I apart. A woman about my age in a houndstooth skirt and jacket has her mouth dropped open in shock. “Geoffrey,” she hisses, “get over here, now.”
A man holding a wine glass is a few steps behind her. He wears a frown, and a slight look of disgust is etched onto the squinty corners of his eyes.
“Geoffrey, Fiona. Hello,” Landon says, stepping away from me and reaching out his hand.
“I cannot believe you, Landon. This is so typical.” Fiona’s eyes take me in, head to toe—trying to judge me, but I know I look impeccable. There is no room for the snotty words she wants to dish.
“You really came, to muck everything up. Just what we need.” Geoffrey shakes his head in disapproval and I watch Landon’s eyes find their way to the floor.
How is it that two people who are complete bores shake the confidence of a man with an ego as big as his cock?
I reach for his hand, and hold my head high. Fiona has nothing on me. And Geoffrey has nothing on Landon. I just need to convince his parents of that.
And it seems I need to convince Landon of that, too.
Landon
Claire laces her fingers with mine, and it steadies me the same way her words did. Her speech filled me with so much unbridled passion I wanted to fuck her right there in the open. I wanted all of her, and I still do.
Of course Fiona and Geoffrey, of all people, had to interrupt us. That’s just another log for the fire he is building against me.
We follow Fiona and Geoffrey into the sitting room and, the moment we walk in, Dad and Mum are up, wrapping me in undignified hugs.
“Landon, you came. You came home,” Dad says, clapping my back. “I ask. I always ask, but it rarely works.”
Geoffrey and Fiona have found their way to a sofa, and sit with looks of disapproval on their faces.
“A family summit seemed rather important,” I say, smiling. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Obviously, I’m trying hard to sound easygoing and relaxed. The sort of man Dad would want representing him.
Mum clasps her hands to her heart. “We are so pleased. I just can’t believe you didn’t call first,” she says, swatting my arm. “And who is this sweet thing?” she asks, looking between Claire and me.