I woke up feeling like I was in a fairy tale. The bed I had slept in was fluffy and the pillows numerous. Above me was a gauzy canopy draped across the hand carved four-poster bed. It all felt like magic. And it was weird.

Good, but weird.

Part of me was still having trouble believing what my life had become. The other part of me told the first part to shut up and enjoy myself. I was going to listen to the second voice, I decided, as I climbed out of bed.

I got dressed—another beautiful designer sundress, and a pair of sexy strappy sandals. I was enjoying all of the gorgeous new clothes that Jax had gotten me, but my favorite part of my new wardrobe were all the incredible shoes I had been able to pick out. These laced up my leg and were covered in delicate little butterflies. It made me feel like a Greek nymph.

Ready to start the day, I went to the adjoining door between my room and Jax’s and rapped my knuckles on it.

“Come in,” Jax called out.

I did so, and stopped dead in the doorway.

Jax had just stepped out of the shower, and was standing in his room, his hair wet and a towel tied low on his hips. He wasn’t wearing anything else.

My mouth went dry as I watched a drop of water slide from his collarbone down his chest, down his six pack, and then disappear behind the knotted towel.

Holy. Shit.

I had seen Jax’s movies. He was shirtless in some of them. But none of that compared to the sight of him in real life. He was about ten million times more gorgeous than he was on the big screen. And he was close enough to touch.

But I couldn’t. That’s why I had set up boundaries. Because touching would lead to other things and those other—very sexy—things would make everything complicated. And confusing. Not that I didn’t feel a little confused already—as if the sight of Jax’s naked pecs had immediately lowered my IQ. I found I couldn’t think straight.

“Ready to go?” he asked, and I blinked, forcing myself to focus.

“Yep,” I told him.

“Great.” He used another towel to dry his hair, his bicep flexing as he did.

I wanted to lick him.

This was bad. Very, very bad.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” he told me.

“I’ll be in the other room.” I made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind me.

Did I have enough time for a cold shower?

It wasn’t long before Jax joined me and the two of us headed to set. We were just about to settle down with our breakfast at the craft table when a PA came and told him that he was needed in wardrobe.

“Sorry about that,” he told me. “You’re welcome to hang out on set today, or explore the town, if you want.” He took out his wallet and handed me a credit card.

“Jax.” I tried to give it back. “We’re not in Pretty Woman here!”

“What?” He looked confused, like there was nothing out of the ordinary about handing your fake girlfriend a platinum card. And maybe to him, there wasn’t.

“You’re spoiling me,” I tried to explain in a way that he’d understand.

“Good,” he said with a grin. “Someone should.”

I shook my head but took the card, telling myself I wouldn’t use it. Even though my parents had found their way out of poverty years ago, I could still remember the times when it had been a luxury to be able to afford the simple things like toilet paper and coffee. No doubt Jax remembered those days too—the days where we had hung out on the pier and I’d had to pretend I wasn’t hungry because I didn’t have any money to buy food.

It had taken awhile but eventually Jax caught on, and he did what he could to take care of me, despite my initial resistance. He always insisted that it was worth spending his allowance on buying us food and spending quarters at the arcade because if I wasn’t there, he’d just be at home by himself.

Fifteen years later and he was still trying to take care of me. Even when I didn’t need it.

“Called off to work?” Morgan asked, dropping into the seat next to me.

Her plate was piled high with food. I couldn’t figure out how she could eat so much and be as skinny as she was, but I thought it would be rude to ask. However, I wasn’t very good at disguising my staring as she practically inhaled her meal.

“I’ve got a good metabolism,” she told me when she was done, clearly having noticed that I had been watching her. “I also spend four hours a day working out.”

Well, that would explain it, I supposed.

“Are you filming today?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Just a scene with Mikey. I have to be very bitchy and disapproving.” She gave me her best mean-girl face. “My favorite kind of day.”

I laughed.

“What about you?” she asked. “Are you going to hang around today?”

“I thought I might walk into town,” I confessed. “Explore a little.”

“Sounds nice,” she said. “Of course, I’d rather die than walk outside in nature, but to each their own.”

She took off for wardrobe and I headed towards town. It was a cute village actually, looking like something out of those Netflix shows I watched—only without the murder. There were some gift shops and a couple of pubs, so I browsed for some stationery, and decided to write a letter to Paige—really embrace the whole Austen experience. But by the time I was halfway back, I realized that as beautiful as my butterfly sandals were, they weren’t the best for walking long distances, especially on dusty unpaved roads.

I was just about to give up when I saw someone approaching on a bike. Not a cute little two-wheeler, but a badass motorcycle. It seemed a little out of place in the English countryside, but it still looked pretty awesome.

I was surprised when it pulled up next to me.

“Are you lost, love?” The rider pulled off his helmet, revealing a TV star’s face.

It was Riley Hamilton, the former star of “Undead Heart,” a soapy vampire teen show that had run for several years before getting canceled after the leading lady quit. Since then, I’d seen Riley in a few different films and shows, but he always seemed to be playing the same version of his “Undead Heart” character—the bad boy.

And he was apparently doing the same thing here. I knew he’d been cast as Wickham, and seeing him in all his leather-and-motorcycle glory, I could see, it was a smart move. I realized then that I was just staring at him, and hadn’t answered the question he had asked.

“No,” I quickly said. “Not lost. Just—” I gestured down at my feet. “Not well equipped for this terrain.”

He looked down at my sandals and chuckled.

“You can say that again.” He reached back and grabbed another helmet from the back of his bike. “Why don’t I save your feet and get you where you’re going?”

I was surprised. I had expected someone like Riley, who had been known in the tabloids for being exactly like the guy he played on TV, to act like a stuck-up movie star and drive right past me. I would have never imagined he would have stopped, let alone offered me a ride.

I would have said no, but my feet were killing me, and the thought of trying to walk the rest of the way made my feet want to cry.

“OK.” I accepted the helmet. “You can actually just take me back to the set, if that’s where you’re going.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” he asked, his voice getting flirtatious. “Are you one of the actresses?”

I laughed. “Not quite.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, winking. “I was pretty sure that they said the actress playing Lydia was an especially pretty redhead.”

I blushed; I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t used to getting all this attention from bona fide stars. It was weird. And kind of flattering.

“Trust me,” I said. “I don’t have the ability to pull off Lydia Bennet.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Riley climbed onto his bike and gestured for me to do the same. “All she has to do is flirt with me, and you’re doing that spectacularly.”

I was glad I had put on my helmet, because it hid the extreme red that had come over my face. In a few seconds, I was holding on for dear life as Riley Hamilton zoomed towards the set. It didn’t take long, and my feet were already begging for a long, hot soak in the luxurious hotel tub. We pulled up in front of the mansion, just as Jax and some of the other cast members were exiting.

Immediately Jax came over to help me off the bike.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice tinged with jealousy.

“Do you know each other?” Riley asked, pulling off his helmet.

Jax shot Riley a glare. “This is my girlfriend, Penny,” he said, his teeth clenched.

Uh oh. I could already tell that I was in trouble. Some of the crew had even stopped to listen to the exchange.

“Oh, sorry mate.” Riley did not look sorry at all. “I just thought I was rescuing a lovely lost lady.”

“I told you I wasn’t lost,” I interjected, even though I knew that was beside the point. “Riley just offered me a ride back because my shoes were hurting,” I told Jax.

Then, even though it felt a little weird, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. I could feel him relax a bit as he put his arm around me.

“Next time just give me a call and I’ll come get you,” he said, clearly trying to ignore Riley, who was still standing there.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your work,” I demurred.

“Right,” Riley added. “Don’t want to distract the leading man.”

Uh oh. Immediately the tension ramped up to ten.

Luckily, Morgan was there, and basically threw herself in between the guys, looping her arm through Riley’s.

“I’m starving,” she said dramatically. “Come on, handsome,” she told Riley. “Let’s elbow our way to the front of the line.”

The minute she had dragged him off and our audience was gone, Jax turned to me.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“I told you,” I retorted. “My feet hurt and he offered me a ride.”

“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend,” he hissed, his voice low. “Messing around with Riley doesn’t do much to make people believe that.”

“I wasn’t messing around with him,” I said, annoyed. “Don’t you trust me?”

He stared at me for a moment, and then relaxed. “Yeah, of course I do,” he said. “I just know guys like that, and even if he didn’t know that we were together, he’s going to flirt with you constantly.”

“Just because he flirts doesn’t mean I’m going to fall for his bullshit,” I told Jax. “I can tell when people are being insincere.”

He relaxed further. “Right.”

“Now, if you don’t mind.” I pulled away from him. “I’m going to soak my feet. Unless that’s not something your girlfriend would do.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my aching heels and walked away.