The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride (European Tycoon Book 3) Read online

  European Tycoon

  The Tycoon’s Pregnant Lover

  The Tycoon’s Fake Fiancée

  The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, FEBRUARY 2020

  Copyright © 2020 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

  Cover Design by LJ Mayhem Covers.

  www.relaypub.com

  Blurb

  To billionaire Anthony Charles Harrington V, everything is about business. Including marriage. All he needs is a society wife who will give him an heir and he’s completely prepared to marry a woman he doesn’t love or desire to secure his fifth-generation company’s future. Until he meets Diana Tinsley. She’s quirky and the kind of free spirit he’s looking to spend time with before he settles down. Using all his considerable charm, he convinces Diana to have a one-week fling, just a lark with no strings attached. But when Diana shows up at his door two months later, he realizes their “no-strings” affair will have long-term consequences: Diana is pregnant. Nothing could be more… perfect. He’ll get his heir, get his wife, and focus on his business. He just needs to get Diana to agree to a marriage of convenience.

  Diana is reluctant about the marriage idea at first. She can’t imagine giving up her job as a nurse to become a society wife, but eventually her practical side wins out. Her child will have a secure future and she’ll be able continue her life as usual. She doesn’t count on her attraction to Tony—which was already fierce—growing even hotter. Worse, she thinks she might be falling in love, which was totally against their agreement. This marriage of convenience isn’t turning out to be as convenient as she’d thought it would. Just when she believes the two of them might have a real marriage, Tony brutally reminds her that love is not an option. But running away doesn’t seem a workable solution to her problems... or is it?

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  (European Tycoon Book Three)

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  End of The Tycoon’s Convenient Bride

  Thank you!

  About Leslie

  Also by Leslie

  1

  "You're late."

  Anthony Charles Harrington the Fifth—Tony to his friends—revolved slowly on his barstool to face the (albeit misdirected) music. His lean frame was presently decorating the bar at the Dunes Restaurant in Queens Beach, a small town in the Fiji Islands. Here, he had expected to be left alone: unbothered by outside recognition, paparazzi, family and work engagements, and certainly unbothered by engagements of another kind. He had not expected to be approached by anyone reproving him for taking a vacation, much less run afoul of a fellow expat.

  "You're English," he returned in surprise. This was probably not his best effort at introduction to what was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met in his life, but he was just warming up.

  She stood on the restaurant floor below the elevated section of the bar, hands on her hips. Young, mid-twenties, maybe—but she had a command of herself that aroused his curiosity almost at once. Running his eye up and down her figure, he thought he discerned an air of being well-traveled. His own travels had developed in him an instinct for this sort of thing. Her eyes were as lush a color and as animated as the green tropical waters outside the bar; her skin, like his, was tan and her hair a rich brown that, as she tilted her head, revealed an unexpected series of dazzling red highlights. Suiting the tropical temperature of their surroundings, she wore a cotton shirt and shorts. Tony couldn't help wondering what color the bikini underneath might be. She had to be wearing one, right? This was Fiji, for God’s sake. It couldn’t be all work and no play, despite her all-business posture at the moment. Then again, the way she arched her back and pushed out those perfectly palm-sized breasts of hers... maybe all-work didn’t have to be all-work.

  The stunner’s eyes swept the room, surveying the open-air terrain of the restaurant. Tony already knew she’d find it all but abandoned. "Or... you're early? I guess they weren't totally exact about the time. Are any other members of your team here with you?”

  His team? Tony honestly had no idea what she was talking about. He had come to the Fiji Islands entirely alone, intent on enjoying his time entirely alone...

  ...at least, until he had spotted her. He smiled his best disarming smile. “No. No team, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, that’s all right.” The woman wiped her hand on her shorts and presented it to him. “I’m Diana Tinsley. One of the nurses here doing aid work.”

  “...Tony.” He accepted her hand and was impressed by the enthusiasm of her handshake. Few of the men he worked with could have matched that sort of energy; hell, none of the men he worked with were capable of doing what she did. He would stake his fortune on that. “Tony Harrington.”

  “Right. Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington.” He had been testing the waters in giving her his last name, but she soldiered on, apparently unbothered. She clearly did not put two and two together: that he belonged to Harrington Enterprises. “Since you’re here about the media promotion, I figured I could start us off with a tour?”

  “Er... yes.” He turned to the bartender who had come around with his check. “Keep my tab open. I’ll be back.” He smiled winningly, and the man nodded. When he turned back to Diana, he found her eyes narrowed.

  “Is your company aware of your day-drinking, Mr. Harrington?” She waved a dismissive hand, obviously deciding the timing wasn’t right for a lecture. “...you know what? Never mind. Drink as much or as little as you want to. As a volunteer nurse here, I recommend you drink water.” She pulled a small plastic bottle from her bag, shoved it into his hands, and turned to begin the tour.

  Tony blinked. He had no idea if part of her aid business was handing out water to thirsty-looking people, but he was grateful. He twisted the cap off and took an appreciative swig as he followed after her.

  There was no harm in seeing how this played out, was there? Besides, he hadn’t told any outright lies.

  Yet.

  He was content to let the fiery-haired beauty do the decision-making for him. He had come to Fiji to relax, and having an entire persona ready-built for himself by somebody else fit superbly into his plans, so far as he was co
ncerned. “Lead the way,” he told his tour guide. Unnecessarily, as it turned out. She was already charging ahead, and he was already falling into step behind her.

  “Well, this won’t be a pub crawl, Mr. Harrington, I can tell you that much,” Diana informed him as they stepped down off the raised restaurant floor together. “If you’re going to help us raise awareness for impoverished children’s medical needs, then I’m going to show you exactly what those needs are.” She scrutinized him a bit closer. “Are you writing this down?”

  “I am.” Thankfully, he always carried an old school pad and miniature pencil in his back pocket to jot down business ideas. Gavin had recommended that to him, once—and Tony was pretty sure his mate had gotten the idea from Arianna Huffington.

  “Good.” Diana carried them forward with her momentum, and Tony followed dutifully... trying in vain not to admire that perfect, pert ass of hers all the while. It was enough to make an Englishman miss his homeland, although he felt certain he had never seen a posterior like Diana’s back home.

  The God of Fiji Vacations certainly worked in mysterious ways.

  If she had known there were asses like the one on this man to be found back home where she came from, she would never have left England.

  Focus, Diana. For Christ’s sake. Diana cleared her throat. Next, she heard herself speaking aloud, and she trusted what she was telling the media man were true and accurate facts about the organization she volunteered for... but that was putting a lot of trust in a brain that had been only half-functional since meeting him.

  God, this Tony was a dreamboat. She had never thought to apply the term to anyone outside a film hero, but here he was: the boat that female dreams sailed on. He was tall, easily a head taller than her; Diana didn’t think she had an acquaintance that cleared his shoulders. And Lord, what shoulders. Broad and powerful in a way that made his easy, assertive posture natural, but didn’t look out of proportion to the rest of him.

  Her gaze climbed him the way she herself wished she could. Over and over again, Diana allowed her thoughts to wander as she took in this gorgeous media man. His face was tan, youthful, but with a hint of laugh lines fanning out around those gorgeous baby blues. She wasn’t sure what the preferred haircut was around his office, but his blond locks were probably half an inch longer than typically met with professional approval, and his stubble a day or two overgrown. He even had a dimple at the dead center of his chin as if God had signed off there on His perfect work.

  “Miss Tinsley?”

  “Huh?” Diana blinked, belatedly realizing she had trailed off mid-sentence. Her only problem was, she couldn’t remember what the sentence had been. No hope of recovering her train of thought, or speech, rather.

  “Water?” Tony offered her the bottle she had first handed him, and she accepted without thinking. It struck her midway through her first gulp that his lips had touched it first.

  “Thank you. Sorry, I was distracted. Where were we?”

  “I was just about to tell you that I’m not the man you should be telling all this to.”

  Diana blinked, then choked. A trickle of water escaped down her chin. She drew her hand across her lips and demanded, “I beg your pardon?”

  “I mean, I am Tony Harrington,” he informed her. “I’m just not with the marketing team.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Wish you wouldn’t look at me that way. I didn’t know how to tell you, there in the bar.” He smiled. “You did seem rather keen on starting your tour.”

  “I... you...”

  The truth was, he hadn’t lied to her. She had assumed, and maybe more than half of that assumption had been built on wishful thinking.

  Now she stood impotent before him, probably as wide-eyed and baffled as one of the dogtooths the fishermen were unloading behind her on the dock. She wished they’d cart her away along with the rest of their catch.

  “My apologies,” she arrived at finally. “Clearly I had you mistaken for someone else.” Clearly. He might have said something sooner!

  “Good to be mistaken.” This Tony character seemed completely unbothered that she had single-handedly hijacked his afternoon; in fact, he was looking rather entirely too pleased with the situation. “It was an easy excuse to spend the afternoon with you.”

  “I—then what have you been scribbling down all this time?” Her cheeks burned so badly, she felt sunburned, though of course as a traveling Englishwomen, she had slathered on sunscreen less than an hour ago. She was embarrassed beyond belief and could scarcely bear to look at the human being in front of her.

  “What, this?” Tony waved the notepad, then held it out to her. “Figured I’d take notes for our man. I didn’t mind standing in for him, but I’m sure he’ll be on time next time—once he lays eyes on you.”

  Eyes on her? What was that supposed to mean? If it was a compliment, Diana refused to examine it long enough to come to some understanding. Her thoughts were a complete and hopeless muddle, and the way he was smiling at her only made it all the worse.

  She reached for the notepad and was mostly unsurprised when Tony drew it away again. He had tricked her once—it made sense that his subterfuge wouldn’t end there!

  “May I have those, please?” she asked. Given how she was feeling, her ask was closer to a demand than a plea.

  “Of course. Only...” Tony wagged the pencil he’d clenched between his extraordinary teeth. Focus, Diana. “... only I hadn’t quite finished jotting down all that you told me on the tour. I could return it to you tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Her confusion persisted. Damn, did she need to hydrate more, or what? Why had her normally knife-sharp brain ceased to function at its regular killing pace the moment she’d met this infuriating stranger?

  “When you join me for dinner.” His eyes were wide and innocent, the devilish quirk in his mouth less so. If he thought he was being charming, he thought right. “It’s the least I can do, as a fellow ex-pat.”

  “I...” Diana shook her head. “I’m sorry, this... this was my mistake. I need to get back to our offices and sort this out.”

  “Miss Tinsley, wait.” Tony caught her arm as she moved to turn away from him. “I’m sorry. Use me as an excuse. Tell them I lied to you.”

  “You did lie,” she said bitterly. “By omission.”

  “And you were all too quick to believe that I was the one you were looking for.”

  Diana flushed. “That doesn’t... mean anything.”

  “Why don’t we find out if it means anything?” Tony suggested.

  “Over dinner?” she guessed. Not much of a guess. He’d already mentioned dinner, after all.

  “Yes. Over dinner.”

  The offer was tempting. The man was tempting. Diana turned into him, and he released her arm... he seemed irritatingly certain that she wouldn’t try to escape a second time.

  “Thank you, Mr. Harrington.” She rose up on her tiptoes and plucked the notepad from his fingers. The exchange brought her within inches of his nose: was it her imagination, or was his answering rapid blink a sign that she had put him on his toes? “But I’m afraid I have to decline. Again. Work calls.”

  “All work and no play makes Fiji a dull vacay!” Tony called after her as she turned and sauntered away. “Do you want my number, at least?”

  “I think your number’s up, Tony Harrington,” she fired back at him over her shoulder. “Have fun on your vacay! Some of us have lives to make better!”

  “Well, when you want to make your own life better, let me know,” he replied.

  Diana stifled a grin and shook her head. What was with that guy? No man on earth had any business being that arrogant—and that irresistibly charming.

  Good thing her resistance was guy-proof.

  2

  “Nurse Tinsley,” Tony said, inflecting more surprise than he genuinely felt, “what a coincidence to run into you again!”

  It wasn’t actually a coincidence. Not precisely. He hadn’t been stalking his Englis
h rose around the white sandy beaches of Fiji, but he had certainly returned to the scene of his earlier crime with a purpose. His goal was to have dinner—and to stay on the lookout for the alluring auburn-haired beauty that had so captivated him earlier.

  And here she was, as if his sheer desire to see her again had conjured her up like a mirage in an oasis.

  Here they were. Tony grinned and shook his head as if this was a surprise, seeing Diana turn in her chair, wide-eyed as she comically sucked a leaf of lettuce into her mouth. She looked like a startled rabbit caught making a measly meal of salad—a measly, lonely meal. Much as Tony considered himself a progressive man, he also thought it an absolute crime he hadn’t gotten here earlier to help her order something a bit more palatable off the menu.

  Then again, what could she really afford on a volunteer nurse’s budget? Again, he regretted not interfering earlier in her evening.

  Ah, but the night was still young.

  “Please, ‘Miss’ Tinsley is fine,” she corrected him mildly.

  Tony winced. “We’re going in the opposite direction than I’d hoped. It was my hope that you would invite me to call you ‘Diana’.”

  “At least you know I’m not married.” Those striking green eyes of hers danced, and he realized she was teasing him.

  “I had figured, considering your lack of a ring.”