“Engagement party?” Ronan said. “What engagement party?”

“The engagement party your father and I are throwing for you and Ava, which is the reason I made time to drop by today.”

Although Ronan’s expression was impassive, I could feel him vibrating with annoyance. Clearly, Veronica’s announcement had taken him by surprise. And over the past two weeks, I’d learned that my husband-to-be wasn’t a man who responded well to surprises—especially surprises that stole time away from his work.

So before Ronan could stick his foot in his mouth, I did what needed to be done—the only thing that could be done.

“That’s very generous of you and Carter,” I said, forcing my lips into a smile as I squeezed Ronan’s hand in a desperate signal I hoped he would understand. “And we’d love to celebrate our engagement with you. But are you sure that you want to go to so much trouble for us? By hosting our wedding, you’re already doing more than enough.”

“Consider it an early wedding gift,” Veronica said. Her voice took on an edge. “You wouldn’t understand this, Ava, but the Kingsley family has a reputation to uphold. Your wedding may be rushed—no doubt for the usual reasons—but that’s no excuse for Ronan to disregard his social obligations.”

As I processed what I’d just heard, my blood heated. I’d done my best to think of everything. I’d prepared myself to face suspicion, even hostility. But I’d completely failed to consider the possibility that Veronica would think that Ronan and I were rushing to the altar because I was knocked up or that I had deliberately gotten pregnant to trap Ronan into marriage.

Furious, I opened my mouth to defend myself.

But before I could speak, my common sense reasserted itself. Regardless of my feelings, I needed to take this one for the team. Veronica was looking for an explanation of why Ronan and I were fast-tracking our marriage, and believing I was pregnant was preferable to other directions her imagination might travel in—like the truth.

So I pressed my lips together, suppressed my anger, and swallowed my injured pride.

The bitch shot me another of her toothpaste-commercial smiles. “You’re blushing,” she said teasingly. “I’ve guessed right, haven’t I?”

It was then that Ronan surprised me. “Ava’s not pregnant,” he said evenly.

Veronica raised an arched brow. “Really?”

Ronan glared at her. “Really. So stop suggesting that my fiancée and future wife is a gold digger. It’s insulting, not to mention untrue.”

“As usual, you’re overreacting,” Veronica said. “I suggested no such thing. I merely voiced what everyone will think, due to the abruptness of your engagement and wedding.”

Ronan’s lips tightened. “I don’t give a shit what people think. Here’s the reality. Ava and I are adults, we know what we want, and once we decided to build a life together, neither of us saw any point in delaying our marriage.”

His protectiveness moved me, and I couldn’t resist adding a twist of my own. “But don’t worry, Veronica—you’ll be a grandmother soon. After Ronan and I enjoy a year or two as newlyweds, we hope to start a family.”

Ronan’s hand twitched beneath mine, but his voice remained steady. “Long engagements are old-fashioned. You know I’ve never been one to concern myself with silly conventions.”

Veronica released a brittle laugh. “I’m well aware of your lack of interest in doing things properly, darling—but perhaps I’ve spoiled you by taking care of such matters for you. In any case, one convention that will be observed is an engagement party in Southampton for you and Ava.”

“Very well,” Ronan said. “What date have you and my father chosen?”

“Two weeks from today.”

“We’ll add it to our calendar,” he said. “What do you need from us?”

“Only your presence and the names of any people you and Ava want to invite,” Veronica said. “I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked. “I have a lot of event-planning experience.”

“I doubt your experience extends to this kind of event,” Veronica said. She rested her half-empty water glass on the coffee table and glanced at her wristwatch. “Now that that’s settled, I should be running along,” she said as she stood and slung her Birkin over her shoulder. “I’d prefer not to be late for my appointment at Bergdorf’s.”

Ronan and I stood with her, and as she headed toward the foyer, I sensed and shared his relief that she was leaving.

But then she stopped and turned to us. “I nearly forgot,” she said. “Before I go, Ronan, show me what you’ve done with Cara’s paintings. She mentioned that you bought half a dozen pieces from her last show.”

Here we go.

Just as Cara had predicted, Veronica was hell-bent on nosing through our apartment—and she’d provided an impeccable pretext. Fortunately, thanks to Cara, I was prepared.

“The smaller paintings are in here,” I said, leading the way to my room. “This room used to be Ronan’s guest bedroom, but we’ve turned it into an office and TV room for me.”

Veronica followed me into the room, with Ronan behind her.

“Cara’s paintings look wonderful on the green you chose for the walls,” she said. “Although she hasn’t found much success as a painter, I think she’s very talented.”

“I agree,” I said. “Cara’s paintings are unique and original, and I just know that someday she’ll be famous.”

Veronica’s gaze drifted over the room’s furnishings and stopped on my grandmother’s desk. “You should get rid of that old desk. It looks cheap, and it clashes with the tone of the room.”

“It may not be an ideal match with the other furniture,” I said, bristling at her dismissal of the most precious object I owned. “But it belonged to my grandmother, and I love it.”

“It’s hardly an heirloom,” Veronica said, wrinkling her nose. “If you can’t bring yourself to throw it away, why not store it? Now, where are the rest of the paintings?”

“In the master,” Ronan said. “Follow me.”

Veronica and I trailed him into the master suite, where she admired Cara’s paintings, while Ronan took in the last-minute adjustments I’d made before his stepmother’s arrival. A lacy black brassiere peeked from beneath the rumpled sheets of his unmade bed, and matching panties lay on the floor beside the bed.

As I’d expected she might, Veronica excused herself to use the bathroom, which I felt certain was an excuse to go through its contents.

When the door closed behind her, Ronan stepped just behind me.

“Nice touch with the underwear,” he said in a low voice against my ear. “My bed looks like it’s seen some serious action.”

“That’s the idea,” I whispered back, trying to remain composed. With Ronan standing so close to me that his breath caressed my neck, and Veronica in the next room, no doubt inspecting my makeup and tampons, I’d never been less at ease.

What was wrong with me? How had I ever thought myself capable of handling this situation? Maybe I’d escaped my financial problems, but in doing so, I’d created a host of new problems that I didn’t even begin to know how to deal with.

A posh engagement party with the Southampton elite—the kind of people I was accustomed to working for, not socializing with.

A hostile monster-in-law.

And a fake husband-to-be who, despite my best efforts, I found increasingly attractive. I only hoped that my loose-fitting blouse concealed the fact that his proximity had brought my nipples to full attention. How could I be so turned on by a man I didn’t get along with half of the time and who was also a total man-whore? Was I that starved for sex?

It was completely irrational—but I couldn’t deny that whenever Ronan accidentally touched me or came near me, my body lit up like a goddamned disco ball.

The only saving grace was that he wasn’t into me in that way, which made my attraction to him irrelevant. Hopefully, with time I would get over it. I stepped away from him and forced myself to focus, just as the sound of a flushing toilet announced Veronica’s imminent return. Moments later, she emerged from the dressing area and bathroom that was supposedly mine.

“Thank you, darlings,” she said breezily. “Now, I really must get on with my day. In any case, you two lovebirds surely have your own plans, which I’ve interrupted for too long already.”

We followed her from the master suite into the living area, where she turned toward the foyer and the door.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said as Ronan opened the door for her. “And Ava—before the party, do something about your hands. We can’t have Ronan’s fiancée show up looking like a farmer.”

I resisted the urge to slap her. “Of course,” I said. “Since my work makes it impossible to maintain a manicure, I always get one before events.”

“Perfect,” she said. “Toodles, darlings—and don’t worry about a thing. Just send me the names of anyone you want to invite by tomorrow night, and I’ll make sure they receive an invitation.”

“We’ll do that,” Ronan said.

“Then I’m off,” she said. With a wave and a final flash of teeth, she disappeared into the elevator.

After Ronan closed the door behind her, he turned to face me.

“Thank you for that,” he said. “You handled her beautifully.”

“I don’t know about that. But I did the best I could.”

“My stepmother’s a piece of work. No one could have done better.”

Warmed by his praise, I smiled at him. “You were pretty amazing yourself.”

He shot me a mischievous grin. “What I am is lucky. After your performance today, I know we can do this. We’ll have to go a few more rounds with Veronica, but eventually, she’ll be forced to give up and accept that our fake relationship is real.”

“You have more faith in my acting skills than I do,” I said. “But I hope you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he said.

And then, for the second time in the past half hour, he surprised me by saying the last thing I expected to hear.

“The two of us make a great team.”