I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and exhilarated. I was in England, on an all-expense-paid vacation—and I was going to get a behind-the-scenes experience of the film of my all-time favorite novel. I’d been a Jane Austen junkie ever since I first read Pride and Prejudice in high school, and although it would take a lot to replace the BBC version in my heart (a wet-shirted Colin Firth and all), I was excited to see what Jax’s production would look like.

I showered and got dressed. When I came out of my room, I found breakfast and a text from Jax.

Call down for your car whenever you’re ready, and let me know when you arrive!

I was officially the luckiest girl in the world.

Even though I wanted to savor my amazing British breakfast, complete with scones, clotted cream, and jam, I couldn’t help rushing in my desire to go meet him. I’d never been on a movie set before, and I was excited to see what everything was like. I was also eager to see Jax in action.

I showered and dressed, then called the front desk. Just as Jax promised, I had a private car and driver ready to whisk me out to the countryside, where the production was going to be based. It was amazing how quickly I was getting used to getting the five-star treatment. I had to remind myself that it was temporary, but I would make sure to enjoy it while I could. Pretty soon we were speeding out of the city. I watched as the scenery went from the urban city of London to the idyllic countryside. It was beautiful, and the weather was absolutely perfect—cool and crisp, with blue skies overhead.

We wound through the green hills and woods for a while, dotted with small villages.

“Did you know Austen based a couple of her books here?” the driver asked proudly. “We get a lot of tourists coming through. And, of course, you film people.”

I didn’t correct him. I supposed I was one of those “film people” now.

After a couple of hours driving, we reached yet another cute town, this one a little bigger, with a main street of shops, and a small but gorgeous hotel. The clerk checked me in and showed me up to my room.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need,” he said.

“Thanks.” I dumped my bags and looked happily around. It wasn’t as large as the one I’d just stayed in, but it was chockful of charm. There were old beams on the ceiling, flower-printed curtains, and antique-looking furniture. It also only had one bed.

I stared at the double bed that dominated the room. What was I going to do? I tried to imagine sharing a bed with Jax . . .

But that was dangerous. Definitely off limits. There was being reckless and then there was being crazy. Besides, the only way this whole “pretending to be in love” thing would work is if we were pretending everything. Which meant I couldn’t be sleeping with him. That would complicate things way more than I could handle. I was embracing being risky and spontaneous, but I had to draw the line at this.

Still, I didn’t have to deal with this problem now. It was still pretty early in the day, and I was supposed to go meet Jax on set, so I gave myself one last look in the mirror, still getting used to my new, expensive wardrobe. Today I was wearing a pretty blue sundress that had some fancy designer’s name stitched into the label. At one point I had asked Jax how much all of it had cost, and he had just waved his hand and told me not to worry about it. I took that to mean it cost a lot of money.

At first I had felt guilty, but then I reminded myself that Jax was the one who suggested this whole madcap scheme in the first place. According to the tabloids, he got paid millions of dollars for just one role, and it wouldn’t help our story for him to be photographed with a girl wearing the finest business-casual Ann Taylor Loft had to offer. He was doing this for himself, not as some big gift to me, so if he wanted to throw some designer labels my way, I wouldn’t complain.

And right now what I needed was to take my pretty blue sundress and my gorgeous matching blue heels and get myself to the set of Pride and Prejudice. In the lobby, a PA was waiting to shuttle anyone who needed a ride to and from set. Within a few minutes we were on our way to the country mansion where they were filming for the day.

My breath caught in my throat when the mansion came into view. It was large, yet rambling and comfortable: exactly how I had imagined it in the book, and I knew immediately what part of the novel was being filmed. The country mansion was clearly the stand-in for Netherfield, where the Bingleys stayed. Since it was daytime, I could only imagine that they were shooting one of the scenes where Elizabeth came to visit her sister after she had gotten sick riding in the rain to visit Caroline Bingley.

As we arrived on set, my stomach growled. The PA gave me a kind look and pointed me in the direction of the craft table where I could get something to eat. I hurried in that direction, taking all of it in.

All around me, people were milling around. Members of the crew were moving around lights and set pieces, while the makeup team was bustling around wearing makeup tool kits, their blush brushes at the ready. And then there were members of the cast. I practically swooned as women in bustles and men in waistcoats walked past. It was almost like being transported inside Jane Austen’s world.

I couldn’t wait to see Jax in the middle of it all.

But first, food.

There was a young woman in costume practically attacking the buffet table when I found it. She was tall and slim, her black hair pulled back in an era-appropriate bun, with a large napkin tucked into the front of her costume. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place what I might have known her from.

“The lobster mac and cheese is to die for,” she told me, her plate loaded down with food.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a little intimated by how beautiful she was.

I would probably have to get over it. No doubt I was about to be surrounded by dozens of actresses, each more beautiful than the next.

“I’m Penny,” I told her, holding out a hand.

“Morgan.” She balanced her plate on her palm like a waitress might have done, and shook my hand. “What do you do?” she asked bluntly, but not unkindly.

“I’m here with Jax,” I told her. “I’m his . . . friend.”

Morgan gave me a slow once-over that told me that she didn’t believe what I was putting down.

“I’m Caroline Bingley,” she said. “Or, as I like to call her, the original Mean Girl.”

I laughed. It was the perfect description for the conniving, two-faced, trouble-making character.

“It’s a great part,” I responded.

“Darling, I know,” she said, gesturing for me to join her at one of the tables. “I get all the best lines and can put my resting bitch face to work.” She winked at me. “It’s my best look.”

We took a seat, and she immediately leaned towards me.

“So you and Jax, huh?” she wanted to know.

“We’re old friends,” I told her, giving her the story that Stella had told me to give. Childhood friends reunited by chance, a spontaneous vacation to come visit him on set.

I watched Morgan’s face as I told her all of this, worried that I wasn’t going to be able to sell it—I was no actress, after all—but she seemed to accept it. Or at least didn’t give any indication otherwise.

“Well, now that you’re here, you’ll need to know the 411 on everyone,” she told me. “Declan is our director. A real Pride and Prejudice nerd, probably would have gotten him beaten up in primary school if he wasn’t such a goddamn charmer. That doesn’t mean, of course, that he can’t be a brooding arsehole when he doesn’t get his way.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but directors are their own special breed. Almost as bad as actors,” she said with a laugh.

“Speaking of which, our leading lady is Olivia Summers.” She nodded to a woman in sunglasses and jeans sitting alone under a tree, studying a script.

“Oh my God!” I breathed, impressed. “I loved her in Promises, she should totally have gotten the Oscar for it.”

“She thinks so, too.” Morgan grinned. “She’s dead serious about her ‘craft.’ Doesn’t socialize with the rest of us and runs her poor assistant into the ground. Best to stay out of her way.”

Morgan looked over her shoulder, and lowered her voice.

“Lulu is the one you have to look out for,” she told me conspiratorially. I followed her gaze to a perky-looking blonde dressed up in a simple blue smock—the Austen-era version of my sundress. “She’s playing sweet and perfect Jane, but she’s a right bitch. You can bet she’s got her eyes on your man—on any man without a ten-foot radius—and when she wants something, she’ll do anything to get it.”

I sat there, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the information. Then Morgan glanced over my shoulder, smiled and waved.

“Look who I found, Jax,” she said.

I turned to find Jax heading over to us, decked out in his Mr. Darcy costume.

Oh. My. God.

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest at the sight of him. It was as if he had stepped off of the pages of Jane Austen’s novel—tall, dark, and handsome—his broad shoulders and long limbs perfectly filling out the suit, waistcoat, and cravat. And breeches. Especially the breeches, which fit him just right in just the right places. Now I knew why the Regency women kept swooning all the time. Never mind a corset, just look at that ass . . .

I suddenly had the desire to undo all of it to make sure every inch of his costume—including the parts we couldn’t see—were historically accurate. For the sake of the movie, of course.

I got up from the table, somehow able to find my knees.

“Penny!” Jax greeted me with a smile, and then he was leaning in and planting a lingering kiss on the cheek.

My heart skipped. Even though I knew it was for our audience, my skin seemed to tingle where his lips had touched my cheek. I found myself wondering if I would tingle wherever he put his mouth.

I immediately shut down that inappropriate thought. I was here to do a job. I couldn’t let myself get swept away. Not even by Mr. Darcy.

“I see you found your way to set,” he commented, looping an arm around my waist as if it was the most comfortable thing in the world.

I tried not to stiffen, and instead did my best to lean into him. He was warm and solid under his costume, and damn, he smelled amazing too.

“It’s incredible,” I told him, tilting my face up towards his. “I never imagined there was so much going on behind the scenes.”

He beamed down at me.

“Gross,” Morgan said with a smile. “Happy couples make me want to barf. And since I just mainlined lobster mac and cheese, I don’t think that would be pleasant at all, so I’m going to go get ready for our next scene.”

“See you on set,” Jax said, his eyes still on me.

When we were alone, I stepped away from him, forcing his hand to drop away. A furrow appeared in his forehead between his eyebrows.

“Is everything OK?” he asked.

“It’s great!” I told him, my voice too high and too eager to be natural.

“Mmhmm,” he responded, running a hand through his hair. It only made him look more Mr. Darcy-ish. “Want to come watch my next scene?” he asked. “It’s a famous one.”

I perked up immediately. “Yes, please!” I said eagerly.

He grinned, and reached out and took my hand. I tried not to focus too much on the sensation of skin on skin.

“Come on,” he said, and led me in the direction of the mansion.

Even though there were people in modern clothes everywhere, and lights and cameras and electronics of all sorts, walking into the mansion still made me feel as if I was being transported back in time. It was decorated like something out of a history book, with a grand chandelier and sweeping silk drapes in every room. It was magical and wonderful and more than I had ever anticipated.

“Come on,” Jax told me, pulling me towards the room where most of the activity was taking place.

A young man a little older than Jax, who was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a worn black T-shirt with the name of a band I didn’t know emblazed on the front, was peering into a camera while two makeup artists were flitting between the actors on set. Morgan was there, with Olivia Summers, and a guy who looked so awkward and charming, he had to be playing Bingley. He was flirting outrageously with the makeup girl, who was blushing furiously at whatever he was saying.

“Jax,” the man behind the camera called to him. “Are you ready to get started?”

“Gotta go,” Jax told me, dropping another kiss onto my cheek, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the room. In fact, it felt like everyone’s eyes were now focused on me, and I wanted to disappear into the extravagant wallpaper that lined the walls.

“Wish me luck,” Jax said, squeezing my hand.

“I thought it was bad luck to say that to actors,” I told him. “Isn’t ‘break a leg’ the correct thing to say?”

“You’re so cute when you talk shop,” he teased, and I blushed.

“Break a leg,” I told him, and gave him a little push towards the direction of the camera.

Stepping back and trying to stay out of everyone’s way, I found a corner and watched as everyone prepared for the scene to begin. Jax was dusted with powder, and he took a seat at the table right in front of the camera. On each side of him were Olivia and Morgan, both of them working—or pretending to be working—on needlepoint. The actor playing Bingley was staring out of one of the windows.

I held my breath as the director called “action.”

“It is amazing to me,” the actor playing Bingley said, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

Morgan stared at him. “All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

All of the actors turned to look at Bingley, who looked appropriately flustered at the attention. I clutched my hands to my chest, watching Austen come to life in front of me.

“Yes, all of them,” he said. “They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

Jax put down the quill he was holding and turned to his on-screen best friend, his face caught in a glower.

 “I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general,” he said, his voice becoming deeper. More precise.

More Darcy.

“I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

Morgan lifted up her nose and gave a snobbish sniff. “Nor I,” she said.

Elizabeth—or rather, Olivia—spoke, turning to Jax. “You must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

Jax focused his eyes on her, and the room practically crackled with electricity. The chemistry between them was incredible.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

Morgan interrupted. “A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

Jax nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Olivia’s.

“And to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading,” he said.

Olivia stared back at him, her eyes just as focused, just as intense. “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

She delivered the famous line flawlessly—mastering the playfulness and confidence of Elizabeth Bennet.

I held my breath and waited for Jax to respond. And he did so beautifully.

“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?” he asked, brooding like a pro.

“I never saw such a woman,” Olivia responded, a smile teasing up the corners of her mouth.

I watched Jax’s face. Watched it transform. Watched him fall completely in love with Elizabeth Bennet right in that moment.

And that was the moment I realized I was in serious trouble. Because Elizabeth Bennet wasn’t the only one trying to be immune to his charms.

What woman in the world could resist Mr. Darcy?