Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,63

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