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“La Perla?” She sat up straight, smoothing back her hair. “You’re not going to be serious about this, are you?”

“I’m perfectly serious about giving you the best cover possible.”

“It’s not going to work,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, it will.” He was talking about exactly what she was. It would work. They could work. But she wasn’t ready to hear that yet.

Nina went stiff, and for a moment he was worried she was going to insist they have this fight here and now. That was something he wasn’t ready for. Not even close. “JT, do you see the SUV behind us?”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, there was a gray SUV behind them, a single male in the driver’s seat. “Yes.”

“Take the next exit. I want to see if he follows.”

He did as she asked, getting off of 75 and turning left on Mockingbird. The SUV followed close behind. “What do you want me to do?”

“Let’s stop and have some lunch and see if he picks up after we’re done. I’ll send Big Tag the plate number just in case.” She was on her phone, texting. “I could use some Mexican. It’s the one thing I can’t get in London. I mean, obviously we have Mexican restaurants, but it’s not the same.”

Mexican it was then. And then he would show her exactly what he had to offer her.

CHAPTER 5

Nina stoodin the middle of the private dressing room that had to be meant for large bridal parties since it was the size of a small house and had two chaise lounges available for customers. She’d already been offered champagne—which she’d forced herself to turn down.

This was JT’s world. Not hers. It couldn’t be hers.

How had that man stayed so sweetly down to earth when he obviously lived in heaven?

She forced herself back to the problems at hand.

Someone was following them, and that meant she couldn’t have the conversation they needed to have. Not that he would let them have it since he seemed to deliberately misunderstand everything she said.

“I brought five cocktail dresses for you to try on.” The salesperson strode into the room. She was perfectly dressed, a testament to her dedication to her job, which was to make sure everyone who walked in the door looked good. And expensive.

The salesperson hung the dresses on the rack of the private dressing room they’d been shown to after they’d torn through the shoe section. Charlotte had been right. Helena knew her shoes. She now had the most spectacular pair of sexed-upLouboutins she’d ever seen. JT hadn’t let her stop there. She had ten new pairs. Apparently her sad pair of flip-flops wouldn’t do for pool time. She’d required Valentino studded sandals in three different colors.

She didn’t even want to think about the fact that he wanted to take her to Tiffany after this and buy her a ring that would likely require its own security detail.

Not her. Fake fiancée her.

She would pay him back for the clothes, but they would be returning that ring.

“Let me know if you need anything.” The salesperson stopped at the door, her voice going low. “Just so you know, your man is the sweetest thing. He told us to bring you anything you wish and to treat you like you’re the most important person in the world. Because that’s what you are to him. So sweet.”

Yep, he was a charmer. He was sweet and gorgeous and rich as sin. He seemed to genuinely care about the people around him, and he was thick in both head and cock.

“He’s the best.” She shut the door and took a deep breath.

He was definitely the best at making her crazy. He’d been beyond attentive. He’d held her hand at lunch, his thumb stroking the pulse point on her wrist, making her go all soft and gooey. He’d claimed they should do it because their stalker might be watching.

He made her wish this was something more than cover for an op.

Why can’t it be? It’s obvious he’s into you. You’re crazy about him. Why not let yourself try again? Yes, you made a mistake with Roger, but that doesn’t mean you punish yourself forever. JT isn’t Roger. He wouldn’t lie to you.

She barely knew the man, but she was already certain he would never lie to her. Maybe she was the naïve one.

Her mobile buzzed and she looked down at a text from Big Tag.

Your stalker is a pro. PI named Howard Benson. Someone’s looking into you. We’ve had hits all over on your cover. Expect that he’s got eyes on you. Fun fact—he’s worked for Malone Oil before, so ask your new boy toy if he’s told the parents the happy news. Congrats on your fake engagement. Try not to get fake pregnant.