“Hello, Barnaby.” I led Nicole into the house. “Haven’t you retired yet?”

  When he was going to retire had become an ongoing joke between me and the elderly steward.

  “No, Your Grace. I’ll retire when your mother does,” he retorted smartly.

  Mum didn’t actually have an occupation, but she worked tirelessly for her charities. I grinned at him. “Then be prepared to work until you die,” I advised.

  “Most happily, Your Grace,” the old man shot back.

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “Barnaby, meet Nicole Ashworth. She’ll be staying here at the estate with me while I’m in residence. We’re going to do some sightseeing, and attend some of the social events.”

  I already knew that none of the household employees had been advised that any of this was a ruse, so I had to be convincing.

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss Ashworth,” Barnaby said with a genuine smile.

  Nicole reached out her hand in greeting, and Barnaby shook it in a typical American greeting.

  Smart man.

  “Please call me Nicole,” she said smoothly. “I’m really excited to be here. From what I could see from the car window, Surrey is absolutely beautiful.”

  Barnaby beamed at her.

  Bravo, Nicole. There isn’t a single other statement you could have uttered to please an elderly gentleman whose roots are firmly entrenched in the Surrey soil.

  “You’re early, Damian,” Mum exclaimed as she sprinted down the stairway in a manner that shouldn’t be possible for a woman her age.

  I caught her petite figure up in my arms and kissed her cheek. “No, Mum. You’re fashionably late, as usual.”

  My father had once said that my mother was always running behind because she cared far too much about her appearance. Her attention to how she looked was much more about anxiety than vanity, and her desire to fit into my father’s world.

  It had never escaped my attention that my father had always happily waited for Mum indulgently, without a word of complaint. Evidently, he’d known why my mother fussed, too, and he hadn’t minded waiting until she was comfortable.

  I was fairly certain that he would have kept his ass planted in that chair by the door until he collected dust if necessary, as long as my mother eventually descended the stairs and took his hand.

  “You must be Nicole,” my mother said as she pulled out of my embrace. “Damian was right. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

  Nicole blushed as my mother came forward and hugged her, and then shot me a dirty look over Mum’s shoulder as the older woman greeted her enthusiastically.

  Like it was my fault that she was a stunner? It wasn’t like I’d told Mum something that wasn’t true.

  Nicole greeted my mother with the same warmth she’d been shown, although she stopped short when my mother tried to drag us into the sitting room for tea.

  “Shouldn’t we grab our luggage?” she asked hesitantly.

  Mum looped her arm through Nicole’s. “Barnaby will make sure it gets up to your rooms,” she assured Nicole.

  I watched as Nicole tried to cover up her puzzled expression. Yeah, it was obviously going to take her a while to figure out that here at Hollingsworth House, there was someone to do almost any mundane task that she was used to doing herself. She recovered well as she followed along with Mum. “Of course,” Nicole said breezily. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  My mother tapped her arm lightly. “No formalities. Please call me Bella.”

  I nearly choked on my tongue. My mother rarely invited anyone to call her Bella since it had been the nickname my father had chosen to use throughout their very long marriage.

  Certainly, no one outside of the family used that name, so I was already suspect about my mother’s motivations.

  Tea was casual at our house, and I noticed that everything had been set out on the side table as we entered the living room.

  “Please help yourself,” Mum said with a wave toward the table.

  I snatched a cup from the sideboard, and started to fill it from the teapot. “Silver Tips Imperial,” I said as I caught the aroma of the brew.

  “Of course,” Mum said. “One of your many favorites. Just because I don’t touch the stuff is no reason not to serve something you enjoy.”

  Nicole raised a brow. “You don’t like tea, Bella?”

  Mum made a face. “Can’t stand the stuff. I tried for years to force myself to drink it. I’m too old to do that anymore. The other pot is filled with café con leche.”

  “Coffee with milk,” I informed her quietly.

  “Thank God,” Nicole said fervently as she grasped the handle of the coffee pot. “I was afraid I was going to have to suffer until I got back to the US.”

  “I could never abandon all of my Spanish roots,” my mum informed Nicole as she took the pot from her. “We Spaniards love our coffee.”

  I stacked some sandwiches and scones on a plate for Nicole, and then piled food on another one for myself.

  My mother was already happily seated in her highbacked chair when Nicole and I sat across from her on the sofa.

  “Is there a right way and wrong way to eat this thing?” Nicole asked in a whisper as she gently lifted her scone.

  Grateful that my parents had never stood on formality, I told her, “No. If you like jam and cream, pile it on top and eat it. Eat it plain. Dunk it in your coffee. Whatever makes you happy.”

  She proceeded to slather the scone with jam, and then plopped a healthy portion of cream on the top.

  She appeared to stifle a small moan as she closed her eyes and savored the taste of the freshly baked scone.

  Her orgasmic expression nearly killed me, but I suffered through every moment of it, and would willingly bring her more if she liked them that much.

  I held back a groan as she delicately licked some cream off her finger once every morsel was gone. “I think that’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever tasted.”

  “So is it possible that you’ve found one good thing about British tea?” I asked her with a wink.

  “If it comes with scones and coffee, then I’ve definitely changed my mind.”

  I sat back and devoured everything on my plate, washing it down with one of my favorite blends.

  As long as Nicole was here, tea would always be served with an endless number of scones.

  Call me a masochist, but a man had to take his pleasure where he could find it, and seeing Nicole happy was far more gratifying for me than I was willing to admit.

  CHAPTER 21

  Nicole

  IN LESS THAN a week, I was completely exhausted by the sheer volume of appearances I’d made with Damian, a large number of them requiring that we travel back and forth to London.

  I’d forgotten most of the names of the people I’d met. It was impossible to keep track of them all, but I had noticed that I’d seen a lot of the same faces at a variety of engagements.

  Bella had helped me by accepting some invitations that involved the multitude of charities that Damian donated to faithfully. The press was usually present because of the large number of prestigious people who attended.

  To give him credit, Damian never strayed from my side when we were out together, and he played the perfect, storybook boyfriend.

  In fact, he did it so well that I often forgot it was only a game that we were playing.

  “I think it’s time to take time off,” Damian said as he entered the large sitting room of the east wing.

  We were occupying most of what was considered the east wing, which consisted of an enormous living area, with several bedrooms on each side of the space. There were also two enormous master suites. Damian was occupying one, and I’d taken the other on the opposite side.

  During the last week, I’d gotten comfortable with my surroundings. At first, I’d been terrified I’d break one of the many priceless heirlooms that decorated Hollingsworth House, but I’d eventually loosened up. I adored Damian’s mother and his brother, Leo. So the residence was warm, even though it was almost impossible not to share space with some very expensive antiques.

  I wasn’t particularly fond of some of Damian’s acquaintances who I met during the round of endless parties, but then, Damian didn’t seem to enjoy their company much, either. People might claim that the class system was gone in England, but as an outsider, I didn’t quite see it that way. Some of the charity events had been filled with downright snobby or titled individuals who obviously looked down on anyone who didn’t orbit in their sphere.

  Nobody had overtly snubbed me as an American of no importance. I didn’t think they’d dare with Damian standing next to me, but I had no doubt that they would, if I wasn’t the guest of a powerful billionaire duke with an elite pedigree.

  Now I understood exactly what Bella had been facing when she’d married Damian’s father. I couldn’t imagine trying to really fit in and be accepted by people who were incredibly eager to find the smallest fault in a newcomer. No wonder she’d twisted herself into knots about being accepted. I was playacting, but she hadn’t been.

  I looked up from my position on the sofa. I was barely awake, still chugging coffee, and scanning through social media. Most of the negative talk about Damian was gone. “So there’s nothing scheduled for today?” My voice was probably way too hopeful, but I was sick of attending charity events where I had to watch every single thing I said or did. Luckily, Damian had kept my interactions with guests at those events brief. Yeah, it was my job to mingle, but it was starting to wear me down.

  Damian strode across the room, his hair still wet from the shower, and casually dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a button-down shirt.

  “I think we’re already a success,” he said in a mischievous tone as he handed me a paper.

  I glanced at the title.

  DAMIAN LANCASTER LEAVES HIS ORGY DAYS BEHIND HIM!

  I smiled as I dropped the scandal sheet on my lap. “Congratulations. You’re a changed man.”

  “I’m the same guy I was on the day that scandal broke. It’s them who see me differently,” he informed me.

  “So we can take a day off from the endless social rounds? God, I don’t know how you do it.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t, normally. I hope you’re not under the misunderstanding that this is how I usually fill my days. I don’t like these ridiculous gatherings, either.”

  “But you know so many people—”

  “I don’t really know them. I tolerate a lot of them when I have to be at the same location they are. I’m selective about the ones I actually call friends. There are some genuinely nice people in the wealthy crowd, but most of them don’t attend these events, either. They donate without needing the damn accolades.”

  I was secretly happy that Damian didn’t like most of his elite crowd. “So tell me about how much time we can afford to take off.”

  “As much as you’d like. I think we should start your sightseeing, and stay at my place in London to make things easier on ourselves. We can come back for Mum’s event on Saturday night.”

  I nodded eagerly. “I’d love that, but won’t your mother need help?”

  “Seriously?” he said. “Do you really think Mum can’t plan this gala without us? In fact, I guarantee she wouldn’t want us messing with her plans. She’s an expert party planner. She just hasn’t done it since my father died. It’s nice to see her back in action again.”

  “I think she loved your father very much,” I told him. Bella never stopped talking about her deceased husband.

  “As much as he loved her,” Damian confirmed. “They were incredibly happy, no matter how mismatched they may have appeared to be. Now go get ready for breakfast. We can be on our way to London right after we eat.”

  Bella had mentioned her humble beginnings in Spain, and how hard it had been for her to get used to living a far different life than she’d had growing up. “I have a sneaking suspicion that Bella is responsible for keeping you and Leo well-grounded.”

  I moved my laptop to the sofa and stood. I needed to shower and dress before I went downstairs.

  “Kept us from being snobs, you mean?”

  I nodded. Damian and Leo both seemed so normal in comparison with the lofty upper-class people I’d encountered this week.

  “She did, actually,” Damian readily agreed. “We were indulged, not spoiled, and she made sure we spent time with our family in Spain as often as possible, so we weren’t constantly surrounded by other ultra-rich children. My father was a good role model as well. He worked harder than any of his employees. He wasn’t the type to simply live off the family inheritance. I’m grateful for everything he taught me. I’d be bored to death if all I had to do was attend various social events and gossip about my peers.” He paused before he added, “Now go get showered, woman. I need my breakfast.”

  I smiled as I scurried into my room, gathered up some casual clothing, and got myself ready to go downstairs within fifteen minutes.

  When I reappeared, Damian seemed to be patiently waiting for me on the sofa.

  He was working on his laptop, just like he’d done every single morning for the last week. I stopped at the entrance to the enormous sitting room and just…watched him.

  Damian was the most focused man I’d ever met. He was an early riser, so I didn’t know exactly what time he got up to work every morning while we’d been here, but I was willing to bet that it was well before sunrise.

  Maybe not too early, because he still looks well-rested.

  I hadn’t seen a single sign of sleep deprivation, and Damian swore his headaches were gone. He seemed relaxed, even at all of the ridiculous parties we’d attended.

  “Working again?” I said lightly as I entered the room.

  He looked up from whatever he was doing and grinned. “Only until you graced me with your presence, beautiful.”

  God, he killed me with the way he looked at me.

  Like I was a goddess.

  Like I really was beautiful.

  Like I was the most important person in his life.

  Like…I was worth waiting for, no matter how long it took for me to arrive.

  “Did you get caught up on your work?” I asked.

  He put his laptop aside and stood. “Well enough. I turned some of my duties over to a few of my top executives for a while so I could put my full attention where it belongs.”

  “On attending parties full of uptight people?” I teased.

  “No.” Damian stalked toward me until he was right in front of me. “I’d much rather spend my time watching you right now, Nicole.”

  My heart did a somersault inside my chest.

  Maybe Damian and I were playing a game, but the intimacy between us was becoming all too real.

  We were starting to recognize the funny quirks each of us had, like lovers did, after they’d spent enough time in each other’s company.

  Damian was incredibly curious about my present and my past, so he asked a seemingly endless amount of questions, some that I had to think about before I answered.

  I was grateful that he’d stopped being guarded about answering my questions about him. There were no more short answers. Instead, he not only told me about himself, but how he felt about his place in the world, too.

  The two of us couldn’t be more different, but we connected on a much deeper level than the superficial.

  Both of us had high expectations of ourselves: me because I was an only child, and him because he was the eldest in his family.

  At times, watching him try to be everything to everybody, and feeling like he often came up short, was like observing…myself.

  I got Damian in a way that perhaps other people didn’t, and through my eyes, the man was pretty incredible.

  I was now completely convinced that whatever had happened the night that he’d been caught on camera, it wasn’t exactly the way it had seemed.

  Damian claimed that he didn’t recall what had occurred that evening, and it was hard for me not to buy that.

  I’d seen too much, learned too much about Damian over the past week to doubt his explanation.

  When all evidence was contrary to his behavior on that particular day, I couldn’t deny that he’d been set up.

  “Watching me would probably be incredibly boring,” I said lightly.

  He toyed with the small tendrils of my hair that had escaped confinement when I’d clipped it at the back of my head. “Not at all. It’s become my favorite occupation, I’m afraid. I’ve become completely addicted.”

  God, I was starting to become dependent on seeing Damian every single day, and on his nearly obsessive desire to make sure I was happy.

  His concern wasn’t something he turned on and off simply for a performance.

  His “attentive boyfriend” switch seemed to be permanently in the On position, even when we were alone like this, and it was making me absolutely crazy.

  I thrived on his attention, his affection, and the way that he looked at me like I’d made his entire day just by walking into the room.

  Honest truth: I was falling in love with Damian Lancaster, and I couldn’t seem to stop the progress of that dangerous plunge.

  I pulled away from him defensively, and then mourned the loss of the crazy, topsy-turvy way he was conquering my heart with every touch. “I’m starving,” I said in an overly bright tone.

  Instantly, his expression filled with remorse, like he was deeply sorry that he’d kept me from eating.

  Really? Like I can’t afford to miss a meal or two?

  “Let’s go feed you then,” Damian said as he took my hand.

  My heart melted until it was a puddle on the expensive marble floor.

  Truly, this man needed a woman who was as eager to meet his needs as he was hers.

  I definitely didn’t want to think about who that woman might be in the future as I let Damian take me down to breakfast.

  CHAPTER 22

  Damian

  SOMETIMES I WISHED I could be a hearts and flowers kind of guy for Nicole.

  She deserved a slow and steady seduction, filled with romance and whatever else a woman wanted from a lover.