She couldn’t be flattered by that. Because the fact was, if this guy got her in his bed, he’d be so disappointed. She didn’t need her soul destroyed any more than it had been already. “And you’re used to getting what you want.” She crossed her arms, hiding the way her boobs had switched on their “take me” signal.
He cocked his head, his gaze sharpening. “You think I am?”
“Yes. You have a car come collect you every morning. Your life is easy.”
“Easy?” He laughed in amazement. “Not that easy.”
“You don’t get stuck on a train every morning,” she pointed out.
“No, but I’m glad I did this morning.”
He might have some smooth talk, but something he’d said bothered Nina and she couldn’t let it go. “Can you lie to your family that easily?” Did she want to spend time with someone who could deceive those closest to him without any conscience? Hard lesson learned, that one—so she’d learned it well.
His expression sobered. “I deal in painful truth every day. I can tell a white lie to protect someone. Yes.”
Not good enough. “If they’re so uncaring, who are you protecting?”
His brows lifted in surprise, as though he thought it was obvious. “Myself.”
She assessed him through narrowed eyes—was he truly admitting to vulnerability? In what way?
“Isn’t that what we all do?” he asked quietly. “Who is it you don’t want to see?”
“They’re university friends.” She stepped back from the cabinet and moved behind the large counter. “But they’re more my ex-fiancé’s friends than mine.”
He drew in a breath, comprehension dawning. “Is he going to be there too?”
“No. But it’ll be the first time I’m seeing them since…” She shrugged and let him figure it out.
“How long were you with him?”
“Three years.”
His brows lifted. “And how long ago did it end?”
“Four months.”
“So we could have met a week later.”
A half-laugh escaped before she could stop it. That’s all he was interested in? Concocting his crazy story? As if she’d go from one serious relationship straight into another.
“You want to show them you’re over him?” He abruptly fired the question at her.
Of course. She nodded, suddenly feeling like a defense witness being interrogated by the prosecution.
“Then I’m your guy.”
It was so wrong that her heart warmed at those words. “I don’t need a guy,” she said defiantly. “I don’t need a crutch to get me through an awkward moment. I’m going alone tonight to prove I’m all good on my own.”
His chuckle was mildly insulting. “I’m sure you are and that’s great, but do you think they’ll really believe you?”
Silently, she glared at him as he continued pointing out the problem with her plan.
“Won’t they be thinking—oh, there she is, putting a brave face on it, but underneath she’s still hurting. She must be devastated to have lost him.”
His words cut because that’s exactly what they would think. Corey had been the life and soul, she’d been the boring girlfriend. She was the to-be-pitied party.
He glanced sideways. “Does he have a new girlfriend?”
Of course—despite coming from that solid “society” stock that Corey had sought, she had been too boring—as a travel companion and in bed and he’d had no compunction in telling her so when she’d confronted him about the horrible rumors someone had finally bothered to tell her.
“I believe he’s had more than one,” Nina said quietly. “He ‘played fast and loose.’” She reverted back to her old friend Shakespeare to help her out.
His mouth firmed, and he stood taller as he moved closer to her again. “So wouldn’t it be good to turn up with someone better than him?”
She bridled at the explicit arrogance. Not short on confidence, was he? “What makes you sure you’re better than him?” Even if he so totally was. But that he knew how gorgeous he was sent alarm bells ringing.
“I never have more than one girlfriend at a time.” He paused. “That matters.”
Honor mattered. Fidelity. Truth. It mattered to her more than anything now. “It would be worse than going alone if they sense we’re faking it,” she said vehemently.
Silence. He inclined his head, bending so he was even closer to her—his face solemn as he looked straight into her eyes, wordlessly insisting she look right back at him.
“Then we’ll do a really good job of acting into each other,” he said softly.
It was like that moment on the train, when she’d looked into his eyes and the rest of the world went to blazes. She didn’t know how long they stood there—how long she studied the pale blue, almost silvery swirls in his eyes and felt drawn nearer and nearer as something new and exciting bubbled in her blood and sent anticipation sizzling into parts of her body that had been dormant so long.
But then she squared her shoulders—blinking to break the moment and deny the intensity of the attraction. This wouldn’t be good for her—she wasn’t in his league.
“I’ve got great plans for the next few weeks that I can tell them about…” And that was true. She’d designed them specifically for that purpose. She breathed in deep. “It seems you need me, more than I need you.”
“Maybe that’s true,” he agreed easily. “So let me appeal to your humanity. Take pity on a poor male.”
As if he were that. “Who can’t cope with his aunt?” Never. “You don’t look like you need help.”
“Which proves that appearances can be deceptive.”
That was true too, but not in this case. This guy was so clearly used to being in control and getting what he wanted. And being independent. But she couldn’t help thinking about it—being tempted. He was right, no matter how relaxed she acted on her own tonight, those others would still offer pity, still search for any hint of vulnerability to pick up on.
To be honest, she didn’t think it would matter if she turned up with him either—they’d still doubt and debate. But not going wasn’t an option. Nina looked at him again—and he knew, didn’t he—just how tempted she was.
“Don’t forget the three Michelin stars.” He grinned, fingering one of the silver cords on the display next to the register.
It wasn’t for the food that she was about to say yes to this crazy scheme. She wanted more time in his company—she might be gun-shy, but she wasn’t a complete idiot and knowing this wasn’t “real” might actually make it safer, right? When else was she going to get to spend an evening with someone so handsome? Someone who’d made her laugh and feel alive for the first time in ages? And at some fancy restaurant?
They’d play-act for the night. Help each other through situations neither much wanted to be in. And yeah, it would be more fun to have him to talk to through the dreaded pub catch-up.
“I have to war
n you that despite appearances on the train this morning, I’m not an extrovert,” she confessed. “I’m not going to be the life and soul of your dinner party.” It was the criticism Corey had always leveled—that she wasn’t party-girl enough, that her conversation was too geeky.
“I know that already. If you were an extrovert, you would have joined in on the second rendition. It took you until the eighth. It will be perfect. We can sit and talk.”
“What if we run out of conversation?”
“We won’t. But if we did…” That slow smile.
“I’m leaving in a week and I’m not interested in…” she trailed off, lifting her hand in a small gesture.
It was a total lie—of course she was interested. But she didn’t really believe he would be—and even if he were, could she handle the performance anxiety? She’d be too aware to enjoy it.
“It’s just drinks, just dinner. Nothing heavy.”
“No dancing?” She teased, remembering his stumbling movement on the train, liking the way it made him that bit more human and less Greek god-like.
A rueful look crossed his face as he shook his head.
Then common sense hit, scuppering any idea they could pull this off. “But we don’t know each other and what if your aunt asks things I should know but of course I won’t?”
“Here’s the beautiful thing,” he said. “You speak no Spanish, right?”
“Right.”
“And obviously no Catalan either. My aunt speaks very little English. It doesn’t matter what you say. She can’t ask difficult questions.”
“So we met…”
“On a train.” He shrugged. “We got stuck between stations, our eyes met and it was so amazing the world started singing. We started talking. It went from there.”
Oh, my. That was what had happened in Nina’s mind. It cemented her decision—and with that certainty came confidence. “If I’m going to be your girlfriend, I’m going to act like it. I spent almost a year as someone’s fiancée and was never treated like it.”
His lips firmed, his customary serious, impassive expression returning. “What do you want me to do?”