"It's okay, Babycakes," I whisper. "We got this." My words elicit a smile, exactly what I hoped they would do. Landon needs to be relaxed and confident when his parents greet us. They need to believe he is undoubtedly grown-up.
"I will call your parents, Landon," the butler says, bowing at his waist. "They are having after-dinner drinks in the sitting room, and I don't think they were expecting you." A footman trails behind us, depositing our heap of luggage.
"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.
"I think she's another bird he found on the way from Heathrow. Guessing she flew right into his lap," Fiona says smugly, reaching for her cocktail glass and taking a drink.
"Play nice, kids," Dad says, his brows furrowed. Obviously Fiona's referencing last Christmas when I brought home a woman I met in the airport bar. Fiona's being a snot, but I understand why. She usually has reason to be. I've ruined enough family events with my drugs, drinking, and women to make her pissy. I deserve it.
But Claire does not.
"That's funny, Fiona," Claire says. "Landon actually calls me his little Bird." She embellishes the truth, but I don't mind. Not if she can iron things out with Fiona. "Though I don't think I spend nearly enough time in his lap to elicit that sort of comment from you."
"Oh, she's feisty," Dad says, laughing. I think he's relieved to hear that Claire isn't a girl I just met in passing. "Tell us, who are you then?"
"Landon," she says demurely, her eyes lowered, a small smile on her face. "Tell them, love."
"Love?" Mum's eyes widen, and she covers her mouth.
"This is Claire," I explain, reaching for her hand. "She's my fiancée."
Fiona literally spits out her drink. Chocking back her shock, she reaches for a napkin, a poor attempt to wipe away her surprise.
"You're engaged!" Mum wraps her arms around Claire and me, her eyes instantly brimming with tears.
"Brandon," Dad calls. "Champagne, we need champagne!"
"The prodigal son has returned," Geoffrey says, his face revealing everything. Resentment. Jealousy. Loathing.
"It just happened," Claire says, beaming. We find seats in the richly upholstered chairs, and sit facing one another. "We've been dating for months, and we decided this would be the perfect time for me to come out and meet you all, but then ... you'll never believe it," she says, laughing. Her green eyes are wild with intensity and pure absolute joy. She is a fucking amazing actress, because everyone is on the edge of their seats, eating this up. "Then, after we landed here today, he got down on one knee at the airport and proposed. It was magic. People were cheering, and wishing us good luck, and it was like a movie. I just ... I can't believe it's our life."
She reaches over and kisses me softly on the cheek.
Mum and Dad are crying literal tears. Fiona is speechless. She stares at us with a look of empty hatred.
"Can we see the ring?" Dad asks.
"Of course," Claire says, sticking out her hand.
"Now, this is a special ring," he says. "The three stones are for the past, present, and future, I presume?" Of course he has an analogy for this. He has one for everything related to promises of forever and commitments and why he went into this bloody business in the first place. "But Landon, tell us about the emeralds?" He's commenting on the two emeralds flanking the solitaire.
I breathe a sigh of relief. This is an easy answer. I'm sure there will be plenty more that I won't have any words for. But this, I do. "Just look at Claire's eyes and you'll understand."
Claire smiles coyly as all eyes fall on her green ones once again.
"That is very romantic," Mum says. "But Landon, we have family jewels."
"I know but, Mum, I couldn't wait another moment to propose."
"I didn't even know you were dating anyone, dear. We have so much to catch up on."
"Later, dear. Now, we must share a toast," Dad says, smiling.
Brandon carries in a silver tray with six champagne flutes and a chilled bottle of champagne. Once we all have a glass of bubbly in hand, Dad stands and offers a toast. "To Claire and Landon, and a lifetime of love."