We barely made it back to the house before it started pouring, but I didn’t even care. After what Penny had said to me in the treehouse, I was pretty sure that nothing could touch me. She was on my side, on my team, and I felt invincible.

At least, that’s how I felt until we sat down to dinner with my parents.

Tea had been fine. It had been brief, and we had all been able to focus on basic chitchat. Dinner was different. Because my parents were obsessed with putting on a show for guests—even if they were common American guests—we would be having a lavish five-course meal, with plenty of time in between courses to talk. No doubt it would be more of the same type of comments I had already been subjected to today. How I couldn’t even get the whiskey right. And how finance was an actual career, while the arts were trash.

I smiled, thinking about how Penny had come to my defense. It was nice having her here, someone on my side for what felt like the first time ever.

And my view wasn’t bad either.

I watched her sip her wine, making a polite smile for something my mother said. A drop of ruby liquid lingered on her lips, and I had to fight the urge to lean across the table and lick it off.

Damn. There was something about her that drove me absolutely crazy. Maybe it was the way she seemed so quiet and timid at first, but the minute you got to know her—got to know the real her—it became obvious that she was tough as nails. Which is why it was so satisfying to see the side of her that I was certain few people got to see—where she was undone with passion. Where she let go and let pleasure overwhelm her.

Last night, when she had allowed me to touch her, had allowed me to taste her, had been one of the most erotic moments of my life. I was getting hard just remembering the sound of her moans; thank God for the heavy linen tablecloth.

My need for her hadn’t faded since last night. If anything, it had grown. I wanted to touch her constantly. Wanted to kiss her. To strip her clothes away and fuck her until she screamed my name.

She was still fighting this connection between us, but after that kiss in the treehouse, I know.

She felt it.

All of it.

And now it wasn’t a case of if, it was a case of when. And I could be patient. Because she was worth the wait.

For now, at least I had the world’s most effective boner killer—a meal with my parents. They sat at either end of their unnecessarily enormous dining-room table, ignoring each other, and alternating between questioning Penny about finance and reminding me that I didn’t have a real career.

“We keep encouraging Jax to go back to school,” my father was telling Penny. “After all, his acting career will only last as long as his looks, and I think we all know that there’s a history of not aging well—at least on his mother’s side of the family.”

And we were off. This was merely the beginning of the dinner-long conversation about the pointlessness of my career. All the while allowing my parents to take jabs at each other. I focused my attention on my plate, knowing that there wasn’t any point interjecting. I’d tried on numerous occasions to get my parents to care about—or at least understand—why I had become an actor, but in the end, they remained unmoved.

“I’m not the one whose hair is thinning,” my mother said tartly, spearing a piece of lettuce—the only thing she would be eating all evening.

My father ignored her.

“What do you think?” he asked Penny. “Surely, someone like you—someone who has a legitimate career—would be looking for a partner who has the same.”

“A legitimate career?” Penny echoed.

She caught my eye and I shrugged, hoping to indicate to her that none of it mattered.

“Your career is a very stable one,” my father continued. “It’s important and prestigious. It has purpose.”

“And you’re not running around on screen in your underwear,” my mother added, taking a large sip of her martini.

One film, I wanted to shout. I had been in my underwear on screen in one film. And it had been completely necessary to the plot and the development of my character. Not that my parents had ever seen one of my films. They just liked to know the most embarrassing parts of them—embarrassing to them, at least—so they could throw them back in my face when it suited them.

“I think you’ve underestimated your son,” Penny said, her voice quiet.

My eyebrows shot up, and my parents both turned to stare at her. Even though they had—for all practical purposes—been speaking to her, I knew them well enough to know that they hadn’t really been expecting a response. And definitely not one that disagreed with their arguments.

“Excuse me?” my father asked, sounding very, very British.

“You’ve underestimated your son,” Penny told him. “He’s an incredible actor, but you’d know that if you’d see any of his films, which I’m assuming you haven’t.”

“We don’t go to the cinema,” my mother said crisply.

“Of course not,” said Penny, her voice sweet. “You must both be incredibly busy out here in the country.”

My parents exchanged a confused look, clearly not sure if Penny was being polite or condescending. I was pretty sure it was the second, and it was spectacular to see.

“What we would like to see,” my father said, “is our son show a little initiative and hard work for once, instead of coasting on his looks.”

“And you would see that initiative and hard work if you watched one of his films,” Penny said pointedly.

No one had ever stood up to my parents the way that Penny was. It was incredible.

“I’m certain we wouldn’t,” my mother sniffed. “There’s no work required in what he does.”

Penny shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told my parents, her voice passionate. “I have never seen anyone work as hard as Jax does. He is completely dedicated to his craft—and the fact that he’s managed to succeed in an industry as competitive as this one should show you how ambitious he is.”

For the first time, I saw the tiniest sliver of doubt on my father’s face. But it was quickly banished.

“He’s wasting his time,” he told Penny, who threw up her hands, frustration evident on her face.

It was a frustration I had felt keenly over the years, but had done my best to ignore because it seemed to do nothing. But now, with Penny going toe to toe with my parents, my own frustration morphed into pride. Pride that I was worthy enough of her praise.

“Jax has gotten the part that most British actors would kill for: an opportunity to play Mr. Darcy. It’s an amazing production and I can already tell—from watching him perform every day—that he’s been perfectly cast.” She stood. “It’s a shame you can’t see how wonderful he is on the screen—let alone when he’s sitting right in front of you.” Penny put her napkin on the table, still folded neatly. “You know, I don’t think I’m hungry anymore. We need to get back. I would thank you for your hospitality—if you’d bothered to offer us any. Goodbye.”

She walked out of the room with her head held high.

She’d never been sexier.

My parents stared, first at the door that she had exited through and then back at me.

“Sorry to dine and dash,” I said with a grin. “I guess I’ll see you at Christmas.”

And then, I hightailed it out of there as well.

“I can’t believe I did that!” Penny said once we were back on the road. She was practically vibrating from the adrenaline that seemed to be racing through her. I didn’t blame her—I was feeling a rush as well.

“You were amazing,” I told her. “I can’t believe the looks on their faces!”

“I hope I didn’t make things worse,” she said, making a face.

I laughed. “I don’t think it’s possible for things to get worse between me and my parents in regard to my career,” I told her. “Besides, we got to leave early, so that’s a win in my book.”

Penny giggled, and the sound sent chills up my spine. The good kind.

She was incredible. Every time I thought I knew her, she ended up surprising me. And I liked it. I liked it a lot.

“Watch out.” Penny’s voice turned cautious. “It’s really coming down out there.”

I dragged my eyes away from her and back to the road. She was right, the rain was coming down hard now, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead of me.

“How far back to the hotel?” Penny asked.

“A couple of hours.” I squinted through the violent motion of the windscreen wipers. I was confident driving in bad conditions, but it was the other people on the road I was worried about. Any other time, I wouldn’t have thought twice about driving straight through, but with Penny in the passenger seat, I wasn’t about to take any risks.

I thought quickly. Luckily, my parents lived not far from an extremely posh, extremely expensive spa and resort. As soon as I saw the sign for the hotel, I pulled into the long driveway.

“What’s this?” Penny asked, peering up through the rain soaked windshield.

“It’s too far to drive in this rain,” I told her. “Besides, I think we’ve earned a night off, don’t you think?”

I could see Penny hesitate.

“I bet the room service here is fantastic,” I offered. “And we did have to miss dinner.”

If I knew Penny, she wasn’t about to pass up a full meal.

I was right.

“OK,” she agreed. “Let’s do it.”

I drew up outside the lobby. Immediately, a bellhop was hurrying out to help us. I gave him the keys, and Penny and I headed to the front desk where a young woman greeted us.

“Hi.” I flashed her my most movie star of smiles. “We don’t have a reservation, but I’m hoping you have a room available for tonight.”

“Of course.” She smiled back, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “What type of room were you looking to book?” she asked.

“The nicest one you have,” I said.

Penny, who had been drinking in the luxurious lobby, spun towards me. “Jax,” she hissed. “That’s going to be expensive.”

“I can afford it,” I told her. “Besides, consider it a thank you.”

“A thank you?” Her eyebrows were furrowed.

“For what you said to my parents.”

“It was just the truth.” She smiled at me, and my blood ran hotter.

I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her on those lush lips and work my way downward. Last night had been amazing, the way she had become undone in my arms, but it hadn’t been enough. I wanted more.

“The nicest available room is our honeymoon suite,” the receptionist told us.

“That’s too much—” Penny started, but I held up my hand.

“We’ll take it.”

The room was perfect. There was a chandelier in the living room, a fireplace in the bedroom, and an enormous claw-footed tub in the bathroom. The whole thing was three times the size of Penny’s New York apartment—and I couldn’t have cared less. The only thing that mattered was the smile on her face as she looked around.

“Wow,” she breathed, as the bellhop started the fire in the fireplace.

I gave him a generous tip and turned to Penny the minute the door closed behind him.

We were alone. I hadn’t realized exactly how much I had been waiting for this moment until it was finally here. It seemed like everything was right when it was just the two of us—when we were away from the rest of the world. Whether it was in my treehouse or her hotel bed, life seemed to make sense when it was just me and her.

When I had her in my arms.

But when I took a step towards her, she took a step back, looking skittish.

“I might take a shower,” she said, gesturing towards her wet clothing. “And warm up a bit before we order food.”

I had a totally different idea for how to warm her up—namely the two of us in that shower, water and soap slick on our bodies as I thrust into her, making her cry out against the cool tiles—but I didn’t want to push her.

So I just nodded.

“I’ll order some food while you shower,” I offered. “Any requests?”

She shook her head. “Whatever looks good to you.”

You. I thought. You look good to me.

But I just nodded.

When she disappeared into the bathroom, I flopped onto the plush couch, picking up the room service menu as I did. I had just placed our order when I heard the shower shut off. The bathroom door opened and I turned to find Penny standing there—wrapped head to toe in a big, fluffy white robe. If I had been in this situation with any other girl, I was pretty sure they would have come out of that shower soaking wet and wearing nothing at all. We would have been halfway to the bedroom by now, eager hands roaming over naked flesh.

But Penny wasn’t like any other girl.

And I didn’t mind that she wasn’t trying to seduce me. In fact, there was something appealing about how shy and modest she was—especially when I knew that all of that disappeared when she was turned on.

“I ordered some food,” I told her needlessly, my mind once again returning to last night, when I had touched her. Tasted her.

I wasn’t hungry for food anymore.

But Penny didn’t seem to notice my ravenous stare. She sat down next to me on the couch, her robe wrapped tightly around her.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, needing to do something so I wouldn’t start kissing her and tearing off her clothes.

“Um, sure,” she said, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear.

There was a bottle of champagne chilling, so I opened that. Pouring two glasses, I returned to the sofa and handed her one.

“Cheers,” I said, clinking our glasses together. “To the best visit I’ve ever had with my parents.”

Penny had taken a drink, and she choked on it a little as she laughed.

“Do you think they’re mad?” she asked once her coughing had subsided.

“They’re always mad,” I told her. “If anything, they’re probably glad to have something—or someone—new to be mad at. Chances are you will be the only thing they agree on this month.”

Penny groaned and put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

I patted her on the shoulder. “Take it from me,” I said. “There are far more things in this world than having Kira and Peter Hawthorne be mad at you. I’ve experienced that my entire life, and look how I turned out.”

Penny laughed. “They do seem pretty unhappy,” she said, lifting her head again.

I scoffed. “Unhappy doesn’t even begin to cover it. Miserable is more like it.” I shrugged. “But that’s the way they’ve always been. Why change now?”

Penny didn’t say anything, but from the furrow between her brows, I could tell that it bothered her. I put my hand on her knee.

“Don’t waste your time or concern on them,” I told her. “Even if someone could give them a second chance at happiness, they wouldn’t take it.”

“I know,” she agreed. “It’s still sad.”

I was amazed that Penny could still muster up sympathy for my parents, but touched by it as well. How she managed to be so tough and so tender at the same time astonished me.

There was a knock at the door.

“Must be room service,” I told her, and went to welcome in what was nearly half of the menu.

Penny’s eyes almost bugged out of her skull when she saw the trays being wheeled in.

“How much did you order?” she asked once the waiters had gone.

“Why?” I lifted the lid off of one of the trays. “Is it not enough?”

Penny rolled her eyes and helped me uncover the food. It all smelled incredible, and my stomach growled in anticipation.

“You made some interesting choices,” Penny observed, looking down at the food I had ordered.

“I wanted to allow for some culinary creativity,” I told her, picking up a pint of ice cream and a bag of chips.

The combination of sweet and salty was exactly what I wanted, and I passed the ice cream carton to Penny, who gave it a skeptical glance before trying it. Her eyes closed and she let out a moan as she chewed.

“That’s good,” she told me between bites. “That’s really good.”

I was a bit spellbound watching her enjoy herself that much, but I managed to control myself, focusing my attention on the rest of the food laid out in front of us.

“How about lobster and waffles?” I asked, dabbing a chunk of lobster into the whipped butter for the waffles.

“Well, there is chicken and waffles,” Penny reasoned, cutting a piece of the fluffy breakfast item and pairing it with a flaky piece of lobster. “Mmm,” she said after a taste. “Not bad.”

We feasted, exploring strange combinations of flavors and polishing off a bottle of champagne. I raided the minibar next, and we drank tequila with our chocolate-covered strawberries and truffle cheese.

Penny’s cheeks were flushed as she tossed a grape into the air and caught it in her mouth, lifting her arms in triumph.

“Very nice,” I told her. “But can you do two?”

“Is that a dare?” she asked, crossing her arms.

I knew an opening when I saw one.

“It might be,” I teased, leaning towards her. “But why don’t we make it interesting?”

I saw her swallow. Hard.

“Interesting?” she asked.

I nodded. “How about a game of truth or dare?”