I had her. I could feel her bending under my will. She ordered another round of drinks and waited for me to begin. The attraction between us was palpable, making my cock stir against the denim that hugged my crotch.

The way she drank was graceful, her motions easy and tranquil. Her tongue toyed with her straw as she sipped on her gin and tonic, and her eyes burned into mine. She was my audience. My soon-to-be-partner in a quasi-illegal affair. One she couldn’t catch wind of.

Did I mind that I was lying to her? Not really. I’d lied to people in the “line of duty” in Brooklyn many times, and always for the greater good. If Ruby knew what I was really up to, she wouldn’t agree to it. But if she didn’t accept the money, that might screw her over even more. This was symbiotic, so I had to reason to feel bad.

The fact that I was insanely attracted to her didn’t affect anything at all.

“So, here’s the story,” I said, giving her a wry smile.

“You’ve already made up our movie-quality love story?” She smirked.

“That’s right. You’re a wealthy Englishwoman, clearly high-class.”

“Yes. That’s right.” She shifted back into the posh accent, gazing up at me through thick eyelashes.

I stirred with desire. “Exactly. We must convince this potential business investor that we’re a happy, healthy, well-off couple, and we’re intending to purchase a holiday home together.”

“A holiday home? This is fresh news,” she said. “Why on earth do we wish to purchase a holiday home?”

“As I said, we only want to make him think we’re purchasing a holiday home,” I explained. “I’ve never actually met the guy before, but I hear he’s one of your kind. An Englishman.”

Her eyes flickered. “Do you think he’ll see right through me, then? That I’m not what I’m pretending to be?”

I hadn’t thought of it. But her put-on accent, her slim frame, her gorgeous, glowing eyes, seemed to create a package almost any man would accept. I shook my head, growing increasingly tipsy in the haze of the dark bar. Nobody had entered in the hour since we’d arrived. It was starting to feel as though the rest of the world didn’t exist, and I was fine with it.

“You’re an actress, Ruby,” I said with a shrug. “Nobody’s going to suspect you. You’ve already conned me into having three drinks in an hour, and I never do that. This guy won’t know what hit him.”

Ruby looked pleased. Her cheeks turned pink, as if she was embarrassed, and she eyed the far corner, thinking. After a long pause, she said, “And how did we meet, fiancé of mine?”

“I don’t think it’ll come up,” I laughed.

“As an actress, I need all the information I can get to create this character. I don’t even have a name yet, dammit. It’s embarrassing. Here I am, trying to do my art without having the proper tools. Do you really expect me to go on like this?”

I found myself loving the way she dug into this, the way she teased me. The teasing was unlike it was with my sister. It held a sexual element, one that pushed my head closer to hers across the table. “I think we met on that big Ferris wheel thing in London,” I said.

“You mean the London Eye? And what on earth were you, Billy Jay Johnston, doing in such a high-class city?”

“I was there on business,” I replied, my eyes twinkling. “Obviously.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re an architect, aren’t you? And you were in talks to build one of the biggest new hotels in all of England. It’s all coming back to me now,” she said, her smile wistful. “But your meetings weren’t going well. So went to see the very thing that made you want to become an architect, when you were just four years old.”

“The London Eye,” I played along, laughing. “Of course. What else?”

“It was crowded, and you asked if we could share a cab. I didn’t want to, as I was getting over the death of favorite dressage horse, and wanted to look over the Thames and grieve...” She trailed off, rolling her eyes. “In case you didn’t know, that’s the river that runs through London.”

“Thanks for the update,” I chuckled.

“Anyway, you promised that you wouldn’t talk to me—let me have my privacy, very gentlemanly—but that only made me more interested in you. Because, of course, I wanted to talk to you. You were such a handsome foreign businessman,” she continued, leaning closer to me. Our lips were inches away from one another. I could almost taste her. “And before we knew it, we were at the top of the wheel, chatting and laughing harder than we’ve ever laughed before. And since then, we’ve been inseparable. Completely and totally. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her story was idyllic. I wished it could actually be ours. With my drunken brain, I shifted left and right in my seat, wishing I could reach across the table and hold her hand. What was keeping us from kissing? Why couldn’t I make a move?

But she just sat there, poised, knowing that she was driving me absolutely crazy, making up her fictional tales of our past. Her breasts pressed against the neckline of her dress, her skin glowing in the soft candlelight. I’d never seen a more beautiful woman.