Kara paced the penthouse while Gregor showered, the distant rush of water acting like a stimulant. What if she’d said yes? Dammit, she’d wanted to say yes. But she couldn’t speak around this man sometimes; he reduced her to a bumbling adolescent with those heartbreaking smiles and the baby blues. Christ on a stick, get your shit together, Kara.

She posed herself around the room while he finished up his shower, trying to find the position that looked the most casual, unaffected. Though probably he’d destroy that façade in an instant with one suggestion or heated look. Was he into her? The question echoed through her head like a megaphone through a tunnel. How big was his penis? She swallowed hard, shifting on the couch. She could have found out, if she wanted to. He…and his penis…were mere feet away. He’d given her an invitation to see, and possibly touch, his penis, and she’d refused.

She plumped the pillows behind her and then settled into them. Nothing felt right. She sighed, tearing off the flowy top she’d worn, opting instead for the simple tank beneath. Her breasts spilled out of it, but maybe that was for the better. Let him get another glimpse of the girls, since he’d seemed to like them so much the other night at the opera.

When Gregor sauntered out ten minutes later, he looked sparkling and new, running his hand through damp hair. He wore white shorts and a blue checked button-up, looking like the quintessential upper-class British man. He settled onto the couch next to her, releasing a contented sigh.

“Good shower?” She picked at the couch, trying to keep her cool. She was an actress, for God’s sake. But apparently all her schooling and skills flew out the window around this guy.

“It was fine. Could have been better.” He winked at her again, and her insides melted. No wonder Gregor had a trail of women behind him. He was too good at this.

“Any idea on where we should start?” She tucked her legs under her, aware that her cleavage was on display. Gregor glanced down once, but only quickly. He shook his head.

“I thought maybe we could…invent some history.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling ideas burble to life. “We can ad-lib stories that sound real, things that will convince friends and family that we’re serious. You know, details to use when people ask us questions.”

“Ah, yes. Brilliant.” Gregor cleared his throat, studying something in the distance. “Like, for example…where we met. And what our first date was.”

“Exactly.” She paused, something else coming to her. “And we should have some fun memories. Like, you know, stupid stuff.”

He nodded, the blue of his eyes zinging through her. “They’re going to ask if we’re in love, you know.”

She blinked. “Well…”

“And where our first kiss was. All sorts of intrusive things.”

“Good. I mean, it’s good to be prepared. And we definitely won’t tell them our first kiss was actually in the winner’s circle. In front of ten thousand people.”

“You know, I think we should have a redo.” Gregor squinted at her, mischief in his gaze. “We need to practice.”

Kara balked, but she wasn’t sure why. She wanted to kiss this man. Desperately. But she wanted it to be real, not part of this con. Even so, she couldn’t deny the logic of it. They were going to have to kiss on camera. Practice was part of the job. “Okay. Maybe later.”

“Now.” Gregor’s tone left no room for questions. He cupped her ankle where it stuck out from beneath her, rubbing a thumb over the jutting bone there, looking up at her with an expression somewhere between inquisitive and imploring.

She nodded, and Gregor scooted closer, resting his arm along the back of the couch. Kara moved into the space there, swallowing a knot in her throat. From up close, in the quiet of the penthouse, his features were captivating, and his energy soothed her. There was something calming about being so close to him, yet it also titillated. The hairs on her arms stood on end. Gregor cupped the side of her face, his rough fingers sending shivers up and down her spine.

He watched her for a moment and then leaned forward, his lips meeting hers softly. Their kiss was sweet and prolonged, but still Kara’s heart raced so fast she thought she might faint. When they parted, Kara figured that would be the end of it.

But Gregor leaned in again, this time prompting her mouth to open, his tongue pressing in to find hers. She responded fluidly, releasing into him, their tongues meeting in a soft and languid dance in the middle. Desire shot through her, her lips buzzing as the kiss deepened and then repeated, over and over again. The sound of their kisses registered distantly to her. She moaned unwittingly, Gregor’s hand moving to the back of her neck.

They kissed for what felt like eons, each one better than the last. When Gregor’s phone rang, he moaned through the kiss, breaking apart reluctantly.

“I’m not getting it,” he mumbled as he fished for the phone. He silenced it and tossed it aside. Kara couldn’t help but notice the caller name.

“Isn’t ‘Nana’ someone you should answer, though?” she said, her voice sounding a million miles away. The man’s kisses had robbed her of her faculties.

Gregor sighed, turning to face the phone. He snatched it up before it kicked over to voicemail. “Hello?”

Kara watched as his expression went from curious to tight and then surprised. “What a grand surprise,” he said, eyes darting across the room. “You can’t be serious?”

Another pause as his grandmother spoke on the other end. Gregor let out a small noise, eyebrows knit. Then his gaze swung her way. Just from the energy shift at his side, she could tell there was something strained in his relationship with his grandmother.

“Yes, yes. The flight out isn’t until Tuesday. I think that could work.”

Another pause.

“Of course. She would love to meet you, too.”

Kara’s stomach dropped.

“Yes, Nana. Sounds delightful. We’ll see you then.” Gregor swiped the phone off and pocketed it, an expectant silence in the air. He drew a breath before searching out her gaze.

“Tell me,” she said.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he spoke. “My grandmother, as I’m sure you surmised. She heard about my win today and also found out about you.” A tentative smile quirked his lips. “She’s on her way to Barcelona to meet us for dinner tomorrow.”

Kara blinked a few times, letting the news settle in before reacting. Meeting the family…of course it would come. She just hadn’t thought so soon.

“Isn’t she in England?”

“Oh yes, but it’s only a two-hour flight.”

Lord have mercy. Kara doubted her own grandmother would take a flight for even the direst circumstances…much less for an impromptu dinner. “Well, that’s awesome…right?”

Gregor gave a strained laugh. “Sure. Except my grandmother is the one we have to convince. And I’d hoped to have some more time with you before bringing her into the picture.”

More time with you. The words made her feel warm, even though she didn’t want them to. The kiss still lingered in the back of her mind as something they needed to return to. And maybe add hands to the mix. Lots of touching, even. But why? They proved they could execute a successful kiss—it was established. No need to do more of it.

Except you’d love to do more of it, as much as possible, as frequently as possible.

She forced her gaze off his lips, like maybe that would help curb the desire. “She’ll be convinced. Don’t you worry. We’ll get our story straight tonight, be practiced by tomorrow.” She flashed what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Right. Well let’s get started then.” Gregor tossed the phone aside, sending a lightning bolt of hope through her. Get started on kissing again? “Any preference for where we met?”

She tried hard not to be disappointed that he wasn’t as eager to pick up their sexy thread but reminded herself that this was a job. Whatever fluttering, hopeful, sinuous sensation that lurked whenever Gregor came near her was her imagination and had nothing to do with how he actually felt about her.

He sees you as a costar. Nothing more.

She’d fight to remember that, too.

The evening passed quickly between hilarious brainstorming rounds of their relationship details and plenty of quizzing on the newly established past. They went to bed early, without return to the passionate kisses, and spent the next day lazily picking at breakfast, chatting, and reviewing their notes while Wedding Crashers played on mute in the background.

It was the kind of day Kara wouldn’t mind having frequently in her life. She and Gregor had developed an easiness around each other that defied circumstance and rationale. She admired things about him, like the way he lounged on the couch, his feet tapping out an invisible rhythm whenever he got lost in thought. Or the way he tugged at the front of his hair just before an exclamation, like it was a requisite part of revelation.

By the time dinner rolled around, Kara felt both confident and woozy, like she’d aced her dress rehearsal but topped it off with a shot of whiskey. Meeting his grandmother was a milestone, one of the most important scenes in the overall show of their relationship. If things got off to a rocky start here—like in the winner’s circle yesterday—then she might as well back out. If Nana didn’t buy it, none of this mattered.

Gregor compulsively adjusted his jacket cuffs on the way to dinner, though he wouldn’t admit that he was nervous. His grandmother had selected an upscale restaurant tucked away in the heart of Las Ramblas, and when they walked into the tightly packed place, a hostess led them to their seats. Nana was at ten o’clock, sitting alone at a table set for three tucked into a corner of the restaurant.

Fuck. Kara’s stomach plummeted while she amped up her smile, squeezing Gregor’s hand as they neared. His grandmother stood as they approached, her lips pressed into a wide, unwavering smile. She wore her gray hair pulled back into a neat bun, and her navy-blue two-piece suit didn’t show a single wrinkle. The epitome of proper English grandmother.

“Nana.” Gregor kissed her cheek before sweeping a hand toward Kara. “Please, let me introduce you to Kara. My girlfriend.”

Kara offered a bright smile and a firm handshake. Nana’s sharp gaze traveled over her, smarting like a whip.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Kara said, her voice sticking in her throat.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Nana murmured, her cool, bony hand squeezing Kara’s only once before slipping away. “Shall we eat?”

Kara glanced at Gregor, trying to discern whether she’d been rebuffed or not. That greeting was icy cold…and now, Nana was back in her seat, looking at the menu with a plasticized expression that betrayed nothing.

“Excellent. Please, Kara, allow me.” Gregor pulled out her chair and they sat, Kara’s back as rigid as an arrow. She rested an elbow on the edge of the table, smoothing back her hair, then caught a stern look from Nana. Shit. No elbows on the table. Don’t you remember etiquette? She cleared her throat, smoothing her hands over her slate gray skirt. What was she supposed to do with her hands?

“Your grandfather would have been proud of your win yesterday, Gregor.” Nana’s face hinted at a smile. “We’re all so proud of you.”

Gregor smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Nana.”

“I’m proud of him too.” Kara reached for his hand under the table, giving it a damp squeeze. “You’ve been working so hard on that engine.”

“Poor Kara. Barely gets to see me with how much I’m in the garage,” Gregor said with a small laugh.

“But the important part is that I do get to see you eventually,” Kara said, glancing at Nana. She watched them with the impassivity of a hawk. “It’s a small sacrifice for your passion.”

Gregor smiled at her, and for a moment she forgot this was a performance. The way that smile sucked her in, those sparkling blue eyes making her chest tight…it was easy to fall into a Gregor trance. The warmth of his hand around hers was a powerful anchor. One that made her miss their incredibly sultry-eyed waitress sending warm looks toward Gregor.

“I see the family is together. What can I bring for drinks?” The thick Spanish accent jostled Kara back to reality. The dark-haired waitress batted her eyelashes toward Gregor.

Both Nana and Gregor ordered sparkling water so Kara followed suit. The waitress barely looked away from Gregor. Does this man enchant women everywhere he goes?

The thought lurked heavily in her mind as dinner ground forward. The three of them fell into a polite if awkward conversation, Kara feeling like she was at least hitting all the marks in affection and attention. But between the openly appreciative waitress and the stony-faced grandmother, Kara was sweating underneath her perfectly poised persona.

When the doe-eyed waitress offered Gregor fresh ground cheese for his rigatoni, Kara leaned in to take the lead.

“Yes, please, load him up. My man loves his cheese.” Kara squeezed Gregor’s hand. He stiffened underneath her.

“Gregor—?” began Nana.

“No cheese for me,” Gregor said quickly, waving off the waitress. She offered him a pouty, prolonged look before sidling away. Nana cast a sharp look toward Kara, one that almost drew blood. Clearly she’d stepped in it. She just didn’t know how.

“I’ve been tweaking my diet recently, Nana,” Gregor began. “It’s been going well.”

“You know you shouldn’t have cheese, darling,” Nana said, her top lip firm.

Oh God. Kara took a sip of her water, struggling to think back on something she may have missed.

“Your constitution doesn’t support the lactose,” Nana went on, sipping demurely at her lobster soup. “And hopefully your partner would support that about you as well.”

Ouch. Kara sent a stricken look to Gregor.

“This has been my decision, Nana,” Gregor said stiffly. “Kara understands that some days are better than others, and…” he trailed off, folding up his napkin. “Anyway, we’ve been eating in more often. Excuse me, I forgot to wash my hands before dinner. I’ll be back.”

Gregor stood, squeezing Kara’s shoulder before he walked away. Kara gave a nervous laugh while she poked at her chicken scaloppini.

“He’s been adventurous recently,” Kara added lamely, trying to feign some sort of background knowledge to his mysterious aversion. “I really just try to feed him as many leafy greens and nuts as I possibly can.”

Nana sniffed. “He’s always been so sensitive to nuts, as well.”

Kara’s stomach tightened and she clamped her mouth shut. Don’t dig this hole deeper. After a tense moment of silence, broken only by their sipping and chewing, Kara looked around for Gregor. The ninety seconds he’d been gone was an eternity. What could she talk about with this woman, other than the polite topics they’d already covered? Maybe you could mention one more thing that’s mortally forbidden for him to consume. That would be fun.

Gregor strode forward from the back corner of the restaurant, the moody sconces on the walls illuminating him as if he were a god descended from his throne. Kara smiled, couldn’t even help it, really, and noticed that Nana watched as well. Enchants even his own grandmother.

As Gregor headed back for the table, their busty waitress intercepted him. Dragged a hand up the length of his arm, cocking her head inquisitively as she asked him something that got swallowed up in the chatter of the restaurant. Kara froze, smile stuck to her face, as she watched the interaction. This looked like something much more intimate that simply checking on drinks or dinner quality.

The waitress’s giggle seared through the air straight to Kara’s ears and her nostrils flared. Oh, hell no. The waitress’s hand slid down to Gregor’s, but he shook it off and then walked away. When his gaze met hers, she jerked her eyes to her plate. Her racing pulse was an embarrassment, somehow. It betrayed something she didn’t want to know.

That you actually want Gregor for yourself.

As Gregor rejoined the table, Nana looked oddly satisfied. And when Kara met her gaze a moment later, she swore the old lady gave her a nod of approval.