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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Harper blinked, staring up at the house.
No, not house.
Mansion.
She skirted around the stone steps, taking in the charming English manor. When Lawson had said that his parents had a place just outside London, she'd been picturing a fairytale cottage. Maybe with a stream, and a hand-painted mailbox, and colorful knitted tea cozies.
Certainly not this.
Guests milled about the lawn, dressed in a pastel bouquet of buttercup yellow, rose pink, and hyacinth purple. Champagne glasses clinked. Violin music floated up from a white tent, wrapping around flower trellises and the hedges in a maze. A maze. Who had one of those in their back gardens?
Harper swallowed. Well. At least Diana had been right about the hat.
She reached up, adjusting the fascinator self-consciously. Her stepmother had chosen her outfit today — a white floaty dress, wedges, and a white organza headpiece — and Harper had thought she was joking until about an hour ago. Now, she was grateful that Diana had insisted she change before they leave.
Her father squeezed her shoulder.
"Alright, poppet?" David asked.
Harper dropped her hand. "We look ridiculous."
"I know." David winked. "You get used to it, though."
He adjusted his tie. David Lane was dressed in a black suit, his salt-and-pepper curls neatly styled with gel. His hair was cropped short these days, less "I'm-a-drummer-in-an-eighties-rock-band" and more "I'm-a-banker-in-Canary-Wharf." Oddly, it suited him.
Harper eyed a passing tray of food. "Is that bruschetta?"
"Probably," David said. "Don't eat it, though."
"Why not?"
Her father pulled a face. "Fancy canapes like those always have a twist. Fish eggs, or anchovy paste, or chicken lung pâté."
"Chicken lung pâté?"
David waved her off. "I've seen worse."
"You know what I could go for?" Harper asked.
David's smile turned mischievous.
"Three-way chili," they said together.
Harper adjusted her camera bag, leaning against a pillar. The May sunshine had warmed the stone, and she tipped her head back, reveling in the unexpected heat.
"Do you ever miss it?" she asked. "Ohio?"
David nodded. "All the time."
"Would you ever move back?"
"No." Her father's eyes strayed across the garden. Caught on Diana, who was crouching down, speaking to a young girl in a frilly pink dress. "Not when I have the best reason in the world to stay." He cleared his throat. "Are you and Griff all set for your trip?"
