Her Faux Fiancé Read Online Free PDF Page A

that Erik had come to stand beside her until his arm went around her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her heart pounded, and without his support she might have swayed. The doctor had warned her not to do too much too soon. Evidently, flying for eighteen hours and then driving for almost two counted as too much.
    She walked around the porch to the kitchen entrance then stopped. Should she knock? Just go in? This had been her home for three years, but it wasn’t anymore. Before her knuckles could make contact with the peeling paint on the door, it opened. She blinked to adjust her eyes to the dim light inside the house. Her grandfather stood before her, his shirt missing a button, a brown stain on the collar. His clothes hung off him as though they’d been purchased three sizes too big.
    Gunnar Thordarson was a large man. Analise had always imagined he was what Vikings had looked like. Now his shoulders stooped, his hand shook as he ran it over his messy beard, and his once lively blue eyes were murky, almost gray. Still, when he caught sight of her standing at the door, he opened his arms wide and swept her into a hug.
    She choked back a sob against her grandfather’s chest. Thirteen years ago, when she’d been exiled to this corner of the world, thousands of kilometers from anywhere and anyone familiar, her grandfather had taken her in his arms and promised to be there for her. His love and her grandmother’s had gotten her through one of the worst periods of her life. Now she needed to be there for him.
    “Welcome home, sweet.” Gunnar’s gruff voice still boomed in his chest.
    Analise stepped back but kept hold of her grandfather’s hands. “It is
so good
to see you,
Afi
.” The Icelandic term for grandfather rolled off her tongue without a second thought.
    “Hello, Mr. Thordarson,” Erik said. She had forgotten he was still there.
    Her grandfather looked the younger man up and down, a frown creasing his brow until he seemed to recognize who it was. “Erik Sigurdson?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “What are you doing here with my granddaughter?”
    She smiled. Evidently, old habits were hard to break for everyone, and her grandfather had immediately slipped once more into a protector role.
    Erik put his arm around her shoulder again and waited for her to look up at him. “Aren’t you going to tell your granddad, love?”
    Love?
Erik really was taking this role of fiancé seriously. Her real fiancé had never even called her that.
    “Tell me what?” Gunnar crossed his arms over his chest. He might have lost weight and shrunk some, but he could still appear intimidating.
    She hesitated until Erik squeezed her shoulder. She’d made a deal; it was time to play her part. “We’re engaged,” she said, trying to inject a note of enthusiasm into her voice.
    “You didn’t mention this on the phone,” her granddad accused.
    “The phone line was terrible. I could hardly understand a word you were saying. And I thought it would be better to present Erik to you in person.” She swallowed on the lie.
    “Well, if you’re happy, I’m happy. I take it you’ll be staying over at the Sigurdsons’, then?” Gunnar’s shoulders fell again, and the animation that had come over his features at seeing her disappeared.
    “No, I’m staying here,” she said quickly. “I mean, as long as that’s okay with you,
Afi
.”
    A smile lit up his face once more. “Of course it’s okay. This is your home.”
    Analise turned back to Erik. “I’m exhausted,
chéri.
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Erik nodded, but before she could turn away, he put a hand on her chin and tilted her face up for his kiss. His lips pressed a gentle caress against hers. It was stupid because she knew it was all just part of the act, but it made her feel special—something she hadn’t experienced in an awfully long time.
    “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be by in the morning.” Erik saluted Gunnar; then, jumping from the porch, he climbed into