Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe
Chapter 1
You know when you’ve been humiliated on a reality TV show by a guy you’re in love with, he chooses someone else, and now he tells you he made a big mistake and he’s been in love with you the whole time?
No? Just me, then?
The thing is, that’s our story. Sebastian’s and mine. Well, it’s the start of our story, anyway.
It’s girl meets guy, girl and guy hate each other but secretly grow to like each other too, girl and guy overcome a bunch of obstacles, and then finally guy admits to being in love with girl on national TV and that he made mistake in not choosing her in the first place, girl forgives guy once he explains he will lose his house, and they live happily ever after.
It’s a classic, straightforward tale, really.
Oh, I hear it. You don’t have to tell me. It’s complicated. More than complicated. It’s a freaking soap opera, with a handsome lead, an evil rich bitch, and me, the girl who didn’t win the show.
But I won something a whole lot better than that.
I won Sebastian’s heart.
And I’m not giving it up for anything. Not when we’ve come so far.
“Seb, I cannot believe you’ve gone to all this effort.” I lean my elbows on the tablecloth and smile across at my handsome boyfriend.
“I hadn’t seen you for a while, Brady Bunch. I wanted to do something special for you. Timothy has stolen you away from me a little too often for my liking.”
“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
In case you’re wondering, Timothy is the name of the activewear business I run with my bestie, Penny. It’s not some other boyfriend. I’m a one-man woman, and I could not be happier.
Since getting exposure for the label on the reality TV show Dating Mr. Darcy, Timothy sales have gone through the roof, and with it my workload. I’m not complaining, though. Promoting Timothy was the reason I went on the show in the first place.
Without it, I’d never have met Sebastian.
I owe it a lot.
“I thought you might enjoy a simple candlelit dinner for two in the gazebo tonight. Now that it's late summer, we won’t be able to do this much longer. Not without risking hypothermia, anyway,” he says in his sexy, Henry Cavill accent.
I shake my head as my heart dances for him. Sebastian Huntington-Ross may be my boyfriend of the last three months, one week, and five days (yes, I’m counting—go ahead and judge me all you like), but he’s still a little on the formal side of the equation. As I’ve been known to say, with being both English and an aristocrat, the guy never stood a chance on that front. But it’s a part of who he is, and I love him for it.
“There’s nothing simple about this meal, Seb.” I eye the silverware lined up on the table in an order that still manages to mystify me, despite it being really quite logical when explained. There’s a vase filled with a dozen red roses in the middle of the table, and I think I spied someone in a white shirt and waistcoat lurking in the bushes on our walk up to the gazebo from the house. But then I might be hallucinating. I did fly in from my hometown of Houston on the red-eye a mere handful of hours ago. A flight that long does things to your brain. Like scramble it and serve it on toast.
Sebastian reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “I wanted to treat you, Brady Bunch.” His gorgeous brown eyes with the gold chunks that so dazzled me when we first met turn soft, the skin around them crinkling into the smile that never fails to make me weak in the knees. Which can be a problem at times.
Like when I’m standing.
I return his smile, my heart full. “I can totally get on board with being treated.”
“Good, because I’ve had a special meal prepared for you by this new caterer I’ve recently met.”
“Oh, how awesome.”
Inwardly, I groan. Sebastian’s idea of a “special meal” usually involves something fancy. From pheasant to escargot (yup, you got it, snails) to this traditional English dish called tripe that put me off eating altogether for a full day it was that bad. Seriously, never try it.
He raises his hand, and someone dressed in a white shirt, black pants and waistcoat, and black bowtie materializes beside the table.