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WEST

Nora is sitting in my conservatory, looking at me with cautious, distrustful eyes, not a stitch of makeup on her face. Her hair is braided back, and she’s in a too-big cardigan. It drowns her body, and the sleeves cover half her hands.

She looks young.

She looks annoyed.

“Keep pretending,” Nora repeats. “What do you mean?”

I pull up the article from Page Six on my phone and hand it to her. The image is the one of us two. She’s looking straight at the camera with a smile, like she knows something the rest of us don’t.

She looks like a model.

Which she is. Pretty as a fucking painting, and trouble if I’ve ever seen it.

“This is already out?” she asks.

“Yes.” I pulled some strings to make sure it was. It wasn’t hard. Privacy is usually a high concern around all parties thrown at Fairhaven, and pictures rarely emerge into the public. They were happy to get a call from one of my executive assistants with the offer.

She’s well-known, and so am I. As much as I dislike the scrutiny most days.

“Oh,” she says. “Rafe has seen it too, I’m guessing.”

“Yes,” I say. He’s a few hours ahead of us, and I just spoke to him from my office. “He thinks we should make this charade a more… permanent thing.”

Her eyes flash to mine. “What does that mean?”

“He thinks we should keep pretending to date in public.”

“Absolutely not.” She pushes my phone back to me across the table. “That’s ridiculous.”

I grit my teeth. I told Rafe she wouldn’t agree to any of it, but he promised he would talk to her. Clearly he hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

I sit in the chair opposite her, like we’re two poker players gearing up for a game. “It’s not ideal. But Rafe thinks—and I agree—that it would be best for your safety.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “How?”

“Your stalker,” I say. Rafe was very clear.I want you by her side twenty-four seven.“If we’re dating, it’ll explain why I’m always by your side.”

I want to send this fucker a signal.

A blush creeps up her cheeks. “I’m already living here. In your house. I have your security guards. How could it possibly help if we have to pretend… pretend all the time? Like we did last night.”

“If the stalker thinks you’re dating someone… You’re unavailable. We’re trying to puncture his fantasies.” I rest my hand on the table and feel the coolness of the glass beneath my palm. “If you’re publicly dating, you become less accessible in his mind.”

Her eyes flash. “So I trade one man’s unwanted attention for another?”

“I’m not asking to actually date you, Nora,” I say. My voice comes out low and harsh. Actually dating her isn’t an option. Never has been, never will be. I have no time for relationships, and younger sisters have always been off-limits.

Dating her for real would end my friendship with Rafe.

Nora draws her arms tighter around herself, like my comment hurt. “I know that. I wasn’t implying that you were. I don’t want to date you either.”

“Good. We’re on the same page.”

“But I don’t see how this is going to deter the stalker.”

“It might. It might not. Regardless, it’ll explain why you’re staying here and why I’m always around. If you want to go to a party or a club again, I’ll be by your side.”