The Captain and the Father of the Bride by
Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead

Book 8 in the Captivating Captains series

General Release Date: 20th April 2021

Word Count: 66,464
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 256

Genres: CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE, GAY, GLBTQI

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Book Description

If Leo marries his best friend, they’ll inherit a fortune. The only trouble is, he’s already fallen for her father.

Yacht captain Leo’s never stayed in one place long enough to fall in love. That all could change when he’s left £1,000,000. But there’s a catch. Leo can only inherit the money if he takes a bride before the year is out. And Leo’s the kind of man who’s only interested in taking a husband.

So Leo and his best friend hatch a plan. She’ll be his pretend bride, and he’ll use his new-found wealth to support her animal sanctuary. What could possibly go wrong?

Archie’s the closest thing to perfect that Leo’s ever seen. Dashing, mature and sexy as hell, after one hot night in a London hotel, Leo can’t stop thinking about the legal eagle who’s stolen his heart.

When Leo meets the father of his bride-to-be, he’s in for the shock of his life. Can Archie and Leo join forces to give themselves and a stricken seal pup a second chance, or will a grasping lawyer with a chequebook in place of his heart scupper the happiness of the captain and the father of the bride?

Leo took Liv to a café in Soho. All the chairs and tables and crockery were mismatched, and the walls were covered in postcards and photographs, scattered at random. He loved it there, with its citrus scent from the freshly squeezed oranges and the tarted-up fry-ups they served.

Back on familiar turf, the unreality that had distorted Leo’s view faded and he felt himself again.

“Are you sure, really sure, you want to do this?” Leo asked Liv. “It’s so fab you suggested it, you’re amazing, but are you sure you want to be Mrs. Maxwell?”

“After meeting that absolute arse?” She flicked her fringe back from her eyes. “I’m certain of it. We’ll get married, you’ll get your money and after we’ve made it look halfway realistic, we’ll part amicably and quietly get divorced. I’m terminally single, Max, it’s not like there’s anybody else coming along, after all!”

“But what if your dream man comes along and you’re Mrs. Maxwell and you never get to be with him? I couldn’t do that to you, Liv.” Leo fiddled with the napkin that was rolled around his knife and fork. “And I feel guilty about deceiving Gun. I know he’s dead, but that clause means I have to marry a woman who I love as much as he loved his Mäuschen. Then again, I don’t want Conrad to have the money. I don’t think Gun did either, to be honest.”

Liv smiled and took his hand. “I’m not looking for a dream man. I’ve had it with men. I’m going to concentrate on my poorly little seals instead. Honestly, Max, you’re my best friend. We wouldn’t be deceiving Gunny, he just didn’t know you prefer men!”

An idea flashed into Leo’s mind and he slapped the table, excited. “Let’s do it! Let’s get married and give all the money to your seals!”

Liv’s seals. They’d become her whole life since she’d started work at the little sanctuary on the edge of Brighton. In fact, Leo already had a suspicion that she put most of her meager salary back into the collection tins.

Liv’s mouth fell open, then she shook her head. “You can’t! I mean…no! It’s not for my seals, it’s for you!”

Leo shook his head. “Do you remember when the dolphins followed us, and Gunther was running up and down the deck, kaftan flowing in the breeze? He loved it! So why not give it to the seals? Honestly. What could the charity do with that kind of dosh?”

She puffed out a long breath of air and shook her head. “Pretty much anything. We’ve only room for three long-staying patients at the moment but we could expand that if we had the funds… We’d be able to get the new clinical kit we’re fundraising for and the sanctuary boat needs an overhaul too so we can actually get to the poor little things when they need us. I’m doing it in my spare time, but I’m not sure how long Dad’s going to be willing to keep handing over cash for the restoration project!”

“There we are then!” Leo squeezed Liv’s hand. “I mean, I could sell the Aphrodite, but I’m not sure Gun would’ve wanted that. Maybe I can hire her out, or I can take paying passengers up and down the coast when I’m back home? And that money can go to the seals as well!”

“But you’re the skipper. Would you really be happy buzzing up and down the coast with the whole world out there waiting?”

Leo ran his hand back through his hair. “I’ve seen a lot of the world, but I’m never in one place long enough to meet anyone. Do you know what I mean? I’ve been wondering if I could do something else, so I wouldn’t have to be away most of the time. I was lying in bed this morning, and I was thinking, I’m thirty-two and I’m still sleeping in my old bedroom, and it’s still got a frieze of teddies in little boats on the walls. I’d love to get my own place. But I dunno, maybe I could live on the Aphrodite!”

“Well, lovely old Gunny did, with his gals.” She laughed. “I can’t take all that money, you know, but you could always make a donation when you cash your check.”

“Come on, you deserve the money,” Leo insisted. “This is your idea. Maybe the…” Leo lowered his voice, the word feeling decidedly odd in his mouth, “…million, minus the fees for our quickie divorce! How does that sound?”

“No.” Liv shook her head. “I couldn’t. You’d still need to have some money of your own to live on.”

Leo shrugged. “I’m still going to be the skipper! I’m not giving up work. All right, tell you what, I’ll give you half of it, then I’ll put the rest in the bank and give you more bit by bit.”

Liv smiled and told him, “We’ll see. Do you think you’ll live on the Aphrodite, then? Everyone should live on a boat. I thought Pops was crazy when he first talked about it, but it’s amazing. I love it.”

Pops. The sainted, adored father whom Leo had yet to meet and who, he now realized, would need to be convinced by their subterfuge. Unless they could confide their plan in him and—

“We need to convince Pops this marriage is for real,” Liv told him gravely.

Bang goes confiding in him.

“We can’t tell him about the will, can we? He’ll know at once what we’re up to.” Leo quailed. How long would it take for her father to realize they were scheming? But then, there had been a couple of occasions when he’d been hanging out with Liv and old ladies had cooed, “awww, what a sweet couple!” They’d tried not to laugh in response, but maybe they could pull it off.

Maybe.

“If he knows, I don’t think he’ll go along with it,” she replied. “And we have to be super convincing, because he’s really sharp. I’ll prepare the ground, then we can get you and him together?”

“Yeah.” Leo glanced up as their plates arrived, but he suddenly wasn’t hungry. Will Pops report us? Are we breaking the law? “He won’t twig—some people think I’m straight.” From a distance. On a dark night.

Liv furrowed her brow. Her eyes swiveled up, her expression growing thoughtful.

“I’m pretty sure I never told him you’re gay. He won’t twig. Just be butch.” She grinned. “I mean…unless you gay guys emit some sort of invisible signal to each other. Even he can do butch when he needs to, you should see him in court!”

“I can do butch! I’m the captain! Stop playing silly buggers with the water pistols or I’ll throw you overboard!” Leo laughed. He could do this. He just had to fox Pops’ gaydar. Somehow. Leo started to saw into his sausage. “Your dad’s gay? I mean…excuse the sausage, but…”

She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Did I never tell you? Yeah, he’s super gay!”

“Well…you and Pops do live in a yacht in Brighton marina, so I should’ve guessed!” Leo abandoned his sausage and moved onto his fried egg and hash brown. “But no, you never said! Does he have lots of hot boyfriends?”

“Oh my God, I totally need to fill you in on my soap opera of a childhood, don’t I?” Liv grinned. “How do you not know all this? Let’s go for a roast on Sunday, and I’ll give you a lesson on Liv, ready for when you tackle Pops. But no, he doesn’t have a lot of boyfriends at all, and he should. He’s lovely. A proper gentleman barrister.”

Leo could picture him, white-haired, sitting in a high-backed leather armchair by a fireplace. Not that he’d have an armchair or a fireplace on his yacht, of course, but Leo knew the type. The men who pottered about marinas in the way other men pottered about in their sheds.

“Okay, roast on Sunday, and we’ll bring wedding magazines to look at! You’re going to look gorgeous!” Leo reached across the table and tweaked Liv’s cheek. “Pops will cry, his boyfriend will cry, it’ll be adorable.”

And Pops’ boyfriend would be like him, white-haired, genteel, the sort of old-school gay man who peppered his conversation with Polari and had once been on first name terms with Quentin Crisp.

“Just think, he’ll be in court right now little suspecting that his only child’s just got engaged.” Liv gave a saucy wink. “To a yacht-owning millionaire.”

“See, when you put it like that, I’m a very eligible bachelor. Except now, of course…” Leo took her hand and stroked it affectionately. “I’m spoken for, by the beautiful Ms. Greville-Hall. Oh, Liv…did that feel weird, me doing that?”

She nodded and laughed. “Totally weird! But thanks for trusting me, Max. It means a lot. I’ve never had a friend as lovely as you.”

“I haven’t had one as lovely as you either.” Leo withdrew his hand and returned to the sausage. “And if I had been straight, or you’d been a bloke, I’d have asked you out on a date. But as it is, we’re friends. Special friends.”

“And with men like Conrad Beaucock hanging around, we’re going to need all the friends we’ve got!”

“There’s another word beginning with ‘C’ that would suit him as well!” Leo chuckled. “We’ll win. We’ve got Gun on our side. Remember that squall when Aphrodite was keeling, and his girlfriends were panicking, and he got all emotional and promised he’d never let us down? He won’t now either, I’m sure of it!”

She picked up her glass of orange juice and said, “To Gunny and Mäuschen, may they have calm seas and open skies!”

Leo held up his glass too. Leo was certain that the old roué would’ve approved. “To Gunny and Mäuschen!”

 

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Eleanor Harkstead

Eleanor Harkstead likes to dash about in nineteenth-century costume, in bonnet or cravat as the mood takes her. She can occasionally be found wandering old graveyards. Eleanor is very fond of chocolate, wine, tweed waistcoats and nice pens. Her large collection of vintage hats would rival Hedda Hopper’s.

Originally from the south-east of England, Eleanor now lives somewhere in the Midlands with a large ginger cat who resembles a Viking.

You can follow Eleanor on Facebook and Twitter

Catherine Curzon

Catherine Curzon is a royal historian who writes on all matters of 18th century. Her work has been featured on many platforms and Catherine has also spoken at various venues including the Royal Pavilion, Brighton, and Dr Johnson’s House.

Catherine holds a Master’s degree in Film and when not dodging the furies of the guillotine, writes fiction set deep in the underbelly of Georgian London.

She lives in Yorkshire atop a ludicrously steep hill.

You can follow Catherine on Facebook and Twitter and take a look at her Website.

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