Page 2 of Improper Proposal
“An American woman,” he adds with a grin, like that pleases him greatly.
I give him a sheepish look. “A lost American woman, I’m afraid.”
A smile reaches slate-gray eyes that match his hair, and there is a warmth about him that instantly puts me at ease. “Not lost at all, my child,” he says as he reaches for me with a gnarled, arthritic hand. It closes over my elbow, and he gives me a grandfatherly squeeze. My heart matches that squeeze, never having known my grandfather, or even my father. It was Mom and me growing up—aside from the “uncles” that came and went—and I can’t say that I was A-Okay with that.
As a child, I always wanted a big family, but now I’m a jaded attorney who’s learned the hard way that letting people in only leads to heartache. Eventually, every man leaves, right? But those thoughts are for when hungry, howling wolves aren’t nipping at my heels.
“You must be the surprise we’ve all been waiting for,” the elderly gentleman says, pulling my thoughts back as he taps his cane again.
Surprise?
Wait, if he’s been expecting me, maybe I am at the right castle.
“Everyone will be so pleased.” His smile is wide, his voice full of joy as I stand there, dumbfounded because I still have no idea who he is or what’s going on.
“I…uh…don’t…”
He gives me a slow nod, like he understands completely. “You must be tired after a long transatlantic flight.” He takes my suitcase from me and says, “This way. Come along. Don’t keep us all waiting. You can say hello, grab a bite, and settle in for the night. Tomorrow we’ll have a sit down and all get to know you better.”
Get to know me better. What the hell is going on?
I must look skeptical because he laughs and says, “My apologies. I’m Charles Winston, George’s grandfather. You can call me Gramps.”
George?
He pauses for a moment, like he’s waiting for a lightbulb to go off. Since I have no idea who he is, I say, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Winston.”
He scoffs, and the hairs on his chin bristle as he scrubs it. “It appears you know as little about me as I do about you.” A lock of gray hair catches in the breeze as he gives a slow shake of his head. “Nevertheless, come along, child. Come meet everyone. There are a dozen people inside just waiting to see what surprise George had in store for us today.”
I don’t make a move to follow. My mind is racing in a million directions. Had my sponsors set me up with a man named George? Am I really where I’m supposed to be?
Charles turns back to me. “Come along now…ah…”
“Harper,” I say quickly. “It’s Harper.”
He gives me a reassuring smile and adds, “Come on, no need to be nervous. George said he was coming home today with a surprise, and you must be nervous that you’re here on your own, him getting tied up and all, but everyone will be pleasantly shocked at this turn of events.” He chuckles under his breath. “We never thought that boy would ever settle down.”
Settle down? What the ever-loving fuck is going on? Did one of the girls set me up to get married? Cripes, I know they all found love during their adventures, but that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m here for epic sex and nothing more.
My pulse thumps a bit faster as I take a tentative step and then stop to examine the embossed invitation I’m holding. Emblazed across the front is 52 Yorkshire Lane, and the number on the mailbox in front of me is 25. If Piper had set this up, the mix-up in numbers could very well have happened. Even though she’s overcome dyslexia, sometimes she still tends to reverse her numbers. But really, would she mix up something this important? I’m thinking no. Then again, anything is possible, save for me falling in love and finding a big happy family of my own—something I wanted as a child.
I’m so over that.
Deciding to see where this all leads, I let Charles usher me through the gate and down the long driveway. That little bubble of excitement is back as I glance at the majestic castle. My God, I’ve never seen anything quite like it. My entire condo would fit on the porch steps. I have no idea who lives here or what my adventure entails, but I must say I’m super anxious to find out.
We reach the front steps, and he waves at me to climb the three stairs to the wide expanse of landing. As I do, he says, “It’s too bad that George won’t be back for another week.”
“Yes, of course,” I fib. Once again, I can’t help but think George and my sponsor have been in contact—that he is aware of the pact. If he warned his family a surprise was coming today, he must be involved somehow, right? I just hope he’s not the one I’m supposed to have epic sex with. I’m only here for one week, and if the man I’m supposed to meet isn’t even here… Talk about an epic failure. The needy spot between my legs practically cries, a reminder that it’s been neglected too long.
Charles exhales an exaggerated breath. “That’s the way it is with the British Armed Forces. If you two end up married, it’s a life you’ll get used to.”
Married?
If one of the girls sent me here in the hope of me marrying, they’re going to hear it from me. I’m definitely not cut out to be a military wife, or any kind of wife at all. I would never set myself up for that kind of failure—not in a million years. I’ve seen enough uncles come and go over the years to realize that eventually all men leave.
“Oh, we’re not planning to get—” I begin, needing to set the record straight. Even if I’m here for George, Gramps needs to know marriage isn’t on the table.
Charles laughs and waves a hand. “Look at me jumping the gun. I guess a grandfather just want his great-grandchildren sooner rather than later.”
