He's a cynic. She's a romantic. One deal, one wedding, and one gigantic secret stand between them.
**
Harper Lane wants to believe in true love. After her parents split, she began photographing evidence of it. Couples holding hands. Valentine's Day...
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"I adore figs," Diana said. "They're just so Mediterranean, don't you find?"
Harper pushed around her slice of cake. They were sitting in a walled stone garden beneath an orange tree, cold iron chairs digging into their backs. The small table groaned under seven cakes, each more expensive and decadent than the last: cinnamon-infused Chai, caramel cheesecake, white marbled chocolate...
It was, Harper reflected, digging into a lavender concoction, exactly the sort of thing her father would hate, right down to the lacy doilies and French name of the bakery. Le Gâteau Château. Which was why David Lane had conveniently signed up for a tennis tournament today.
Smart man.
"Harper?" Diana prompted.
She glanced up. "Hmm?"
"Figs."
"Oh." She took a bite of the cake. "Yes. Very exotic."
Diana wrinkled her nose. "Do you think David would like figs?"
Harper privately thought her father would prefer to elope in Vegas, but she shrugged. "He likes dates. That's sort of the same thing, right?"
Diana gave her a horrified look that said no, those were indeed not the same thing, and she was a heathen for suggesting it. Then Diana shook her head, pouring them both more tea.
"Perhaps we should go with something simple," Diana said. "I just worry that the chef won't have time to make a bespoke fig cake in two weeks. How do you feel about lemon? Or rhubarb? Unconventional, but with the weather..."
Harper pushed her cake around again. Truthfully, she hadn't been able to concentrate today; her thoughts were a tangle of Lawson, the airing cupboard, Jake Parker, and the upcoming gardening show. Would Jake be there? She certainly hoped not. Lawson would have warned her, wouldn't he? He would have—
"Harper?" Diana asked.
She blinked. "Yes?"
Diana looked exasperated. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Sorry." Harper set down her fork. "I was up late last night."
"Jet lag?"
"Something like that."
Diana's eyes narrowed. She studied Harper's face so intently that Harper reached up to make sure that she didn't have crumbs all over her cheek. Then Diana nodded, sitting back in her seat with an air of satisfaction.
"Ah," Diana said. "You've met Lawson."
Harper's hand stilled. "What?"
"You have that look," Diana said. "Girls have been looking that way at Lawson since he was sixteen." She reached forward to pat Harper's hand. "He's a darling boy, Harper, but he's not for you. Trust me. Lawson has the whole world wrapped around his finger, and he has no intention of letting go of it."
