Taming the Tycoon by Amy Andrews Page B

revelations.
    “Do you need a hand?”
    She stood there blinking down at him in her frivolous purple sunglasses, and if it weren’t for the bulge in his underpants, he’d have felt completely impotent as he struggled with the crutch.
    Nathaniel Montgomery never felt—never was —impotent.
    “I’m fine,” he said testily as he dodged her outreached hand and surged to his feet. The last thing he needed was for her to touch him again—not when he was still suffering the effects from her last effort.
    Then the front door swung open and he’d never been more pleased to see his grandmother, her arms flung wide. “Darling!”
    Her frizzy gray hair bounced as she hefted her sturdy frame across the cobblestone flagging, hobbling slightly with her arthritic hip and no matter how frustrated he was that he was here when he had so much to do, or how exasperated he got over her wild and wacky carryings-on, a part of Nathaniel recognized the warm welcome of his childhood encoded into every cell of his body.
    He grinned at her as she neared. “Hello, Grandy. Still not using that cane, I see.”
    “Oh, fiddlesticks,” Eunice Smithson said in her loud, crackly voice as she gave him a fierce hug. “Strong as an ox, I am. Don’t need the damned thing.”
    Nathaniel laughed at her typical brushoff concerning her limitations. A cloud of rosewater and lavender, as familiar to him as his fingerprints, enveloped him and he kissed her frizzy head. He noticed she was even wearing her hearing aids for once.
    When she stepped back from him, she was looking pointedly at Addie. “Well, come on then, my duck. Introduce us to your lady friend.”
    Nathaniel tensed as he saw a very familiar gleam in his grandmother’s eye. He opened his mouth to oblige, but Addie jumped in ahead of him.
    “Hi,” she said holding out her hand. “I’m Addie.”
    “That’s an unusual kind of name,” Eunice said as she shook the proffered hand.
    “It’s short for Adelaide,” Nathaniel supplied.
    He watched as his grandmother scrutinized Addie with that wily-old-fox face of hers he didn’t quite trust. “Is it now?” she asked.
    That look made him nervous. “After the famous physicist, Adelaide Worthington.”
    His grandmother looked at him then flicked her gaze back to Addie. He watched as his grandmother’s gaze zeroed in on Addie’s crystal necklace. “You’re not Nate’s usual type,” she said, addressing Addie directly with her characteristic bluntness.
    His grandmother was obviously having a hard time reconciling Addie with the other three women he’d been brave enough to bring here. She didn’t appear remotely convinced.
    He leaned heavily on his left crutch as he slid his right arm around Addie’s waist and pulled her in close. She fitted a little too perfectly for his liking and the hitch in her breath along with her slightly stilted laugh annoyed him.
    “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid,” Addie said.
    His grandmother flicked her shrewd gaze back to him. “Where’d you meet?”
    “In Addie’s shop. She works and lives at the docks, too.”
    Addie nodded. “On a canal boat.”
    “A canal boat?” Eunice quirked a steely gray eyebrow at her grandson. “You don’t say.”
    Nathaniel would have preferred to have kept that juicy tidbit quiet, but the conversation had gotten away from him. He couldn’t think beneath his grandmother’s scrutiny and with Addie’s breast squashed against his ribs.
    He was about to grapple control of the conversation again when his mother appeared in the doorway, smiling at him.
    “Nate, dear,” she said coming forward, wiping her hands on her apron, flour on her face. He was relieved for the opportunity to move away from Addie, as was she, if her quick sideways step was any gauge. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to both of them as she kissed his cheek. “I was at a critical stage with the scones.”
    Addie held out her hand again. “I adore scones,” she said.
    Nathaniel’s mother, a