I wasn't prepared for the relief that washed through me at her words. I hadn't realized how close she'd been to running, again. I should have. After eleven years, running was ingrained. Annalise was threatened, and she bolted, like a wild animal facing a predator.

I'd offered Evers, or another operative, to take my part. It was sensible. I was the best, but I wasn't the only one we could use. I hadn't expected how wrong that would feel. I knew Annalise hadn't been a nun in the last decade. I hadn't exactly been sleeping alone either, but the idea of helping to set up some other guy as her fiancé—no fucking way.

I sat back into the couch and laid it out for her. "I move in here. Tomorrow night, the birthday dinner planned for you and Vance becomes an engagement party. Mostly family, some close friends. Definitely a few we know are good at spreading gossip. We put an announcement in the paper. Then we go about living our lives."

"And who are you supposed to be? Am I calling you Riley? What's your cover story?"

I would've thought she was laughing at me, but there was no hint of amusement in her face. Still, my gut told me she was teasing, just a little. That was good. Teasing was better than dismissal or reluctance. I could work with teasing.

I propped my ankle on my knee, leaned back into the plush silk cushions of the sofa and stretched my arms over the back. With a grin, I said, "I'm just me, for this one. Riley Flynn, your long-lost college boyfriend and an executive with Sinclair Security."

A ghost of a smile flitted across her face, and she said, "An executive? Impressive. Executive of what?"

Now I knew she was teasing me. Technically, I was an executive, though since my promotion I'd been resisting time behind a desk. I preferred being in the field. "VP in charge of client relations," I said, truthfully.

"I'm guessing that's not as innocent as it sounds," she said.

"It means I coordinate and implement jobs like this one."

"So who's going to do your job while you're here, pretending to be my fiancé? I didn't think executives left their offices to go undercover."

"Normally, we don't. But this is different. The Sinclairs consider you family. And I can do my job remotely. As long as I have my laptop and my phone, I can keep in touch with my teams."

I stood and looked down at her. We’d have plenty of time to talk once we got this whole thing rolling, but if we were going to pull off this fiction of an engagement, I had to get to work.

"I'll be back for dinner," I said. I was halfway to the door before she realized I was leaving and stood to follow me. I didn't stop, just in case she was thinking of a last-minute objection. Over my shoulder, I said, "Make room in the closet for me," and escaped.

Evers met me in the front hall. After scanning me with an assessing look, he said, "We're on?"

"We're on. She's not happy about it, but we can handle that."

"Meet me in the car. I'll get Knox. Cooper is going to review the security changes with Aiden and Gage before he heads back."

I was fine with skipping that meeting. I had a feeling I'd get enough of Aiden and Gage after I moved into their house.

Somehow, I knew they were not crazy about the idea of me sharing a bedroom with Annalise, even if nothing was going on. I ignored the fact that I'd had a similar reaction to the idea of someone else taking my spot on the job. I was supposed to feel protective.

She was vulnerable. She was the client, and the client was always vulnerable because the client was always in trouble. If they weren't, they wouldn't have called us. It was normal to be concerned about anyone taking advantage. It wasn't personal.

I was sitting in the backseat of the standard Sinclair black SUV, making a list on my phone, when Evers and Knox got in. I had to wrap up some details in the office, give my project leads some last-minute instructions, answer a few client emails, and handle some paperwork before I headed out to pack for an indefinite stay at Winters House.

Oh, and I had to buy a ring.

"How'd you talk her into it?" Evers asked, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. On the surface, Evers was the most easy-going of the Sinclair brothers, but he had a soft spot for a damsel in distress, and he'd been friends with Annalise since they were in the cradle.

"I tried to pawn you off on her, but she wasn't interested. Said something about no one believing she'd ever go out with you."

Evers narrowed his eyes at me before looking back at the road, but he laughed. "If I thought we could pull it off, I wouldn't let you within fifty feet of Lise, but she's like my baby sister. She's hot, but I can't go there with her and whoever plays her fiancé has to be convincing."

I didn't comment. I didn't like hearing him call Annalise hot, more so because it was true. She was older, and she looked tired, but the added fragility didn't make her any less beautiful.

Evers was trying to goad me into insisting I could be convincing, but I wasn't taking the bait. I already knew I could play the part. Once upon a time, I'd wanted to play it in real life.

"Are you going to tell her?" Knox asked, in his calm, quiet voice. Trust Knox to get right to the heart of it.

I didn't even have to think about my answer. "Hell, no."

"Is that smart?" Knox pressed.

"What do you think?" I challenged. "Would you tell her?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear Knox say it.

"I think," he said, slowly, "that she deserves the truth. I also think she'd fucking kill you. She'd definitely take off again."

"Yeah, exactly," I said.

"But that's not why you won't tell her," Knox said. His dark eyes met mine in the rearview. I looked away.

"Does it matter why?" I asked.

Knox shrugged. "If she's just a job, then I guess it doesn't."

They both shut up after that, which was fine with me. It didn't matter because she was just a job. Making things more complicated would only put the operation at risk.

Things at the office took longer than planned—they always did—and it was late afternoon by the time I walked through the doors of the jewelry store. It wasn't the most exclusive jewelry store in Atlanta, but it was close, and Sinclair Security had an arrangement with them.

There were times—this job was a perfect example—when we needed access to expensive jewelry that we didn't want to own. The store wasn't in the habit of leasing jewelry, but they made an exception for Sinclair, and we made it our business to always return the pieces we borrowed in perfect condition. We made sure of it because none of us wanted to be saddled with a forty-thousand dollar engagement ring.

There was no question of giving Annalise a fake. The best way for this whole thing to fall apart would be for some society matron to spot a fake diamond on the hand of Annalise Winters. No, if we were going to pull this off, we had to do it right.

I pushed away any lingering memories of a time when I thought about doing this for real and made my way to the counter. The impeccably dressed young woman waiting there looked up.

"How may I help you today?" She asked in a perfectly modulated voice.

"I'm looking for an engagement ring. Riley Flynn? I have an account."

I spotted the jewelry case with the engagement rings and moved to take a closer look. The salesclerk discreetly checked the computer, and her smile widened. Not only did I have an account set up, it had a very generous limit. This wasn't the average engagement ring. If we were going to make a show of this, it had to be spectacular.

Fortunately, spectacular and Annalise Winters went together well. She'd never been showy about her money. In college, she'd gone out of her way to blend in with everyone else. Since then she’d turned blending in into an art form. Still, you couldn't hide when you looked like Annalise.

The sky blue eyes and long, platinum streaked blonde hair, on a tall, lean frame with just the right curves. She wasn't big into jewelry, but she could carry off a lot of ring, and that's what I was going to give her.

The clerk brought out a tray. I wasn't surprised to see it was the one featuring the biggest rings. I scanned them dispassionately. I'd know the right ring when I saw it.

A little voice in the back of my head reminded me that it didn't really matter. I'd be returning it in a matter of weeks because it wasn't really an engagement ring. It was a costume, albeit a ridiculously expensive one.

Whatever. If I had to play the part, it started with the right engagement ring.

As soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew. This was the ring Lise would want. A square, princess cut stone. Big enough to catch the eye, but not so big it would look ostentatious on her long, narrow fingers. The band was split into two intertwined strands, one unadorned platinum and the other studded with small diamonds. It was delicate and feminine with just enough sparkle to make an impression.

"That one," I said, pointing at the ring and trying to ignore the squeeze in my chest as the salesclerk picked it up and murmured, "A fine choice."

Luck was with me, and the ring was Annalise's size. I signed some papers, the Sinclair security account took a temporary hit, and I walked out with an engagement ring in my pocket.

Packing was a hell of a lot easier than buying the ring. Especially since, if I forgot anything, I could always come back. I got to Winters House just in time for dinner. This first night, it was just family. Unfortunately, with the Winters, just family could still be a crowd. We ate in the dining room, a space more appropriate for a state dinner than spaghetti and meatballs.

The Winters took it all in stride. They were used to this kind of luxury: priceless Persian carpets, the endless length of the polished dining room table, the crystal chandelier, the soaring ceilings, complete with a secret library tucked into the second level.

Everything about Winters House was over the top. I'd worked with a lot of wealthy clients since I joined up with Sinclair Security. We only had wealthy clients. If you weren't wealthy, you couldn't afford us.

It was different, though, seeing Annalise here, realizing she'd grown up with this. For just a second, I could understand why she'd kept me away from her family in college.

We got through dinner with a minimum of conflict, mostly because Sophie and Amelia's bickering provided a distraction, especially when the housekeeper set a bowl of fruit in front of Amelia and gave the rest of us slices of chocolate cake.

The older woman glared up at the housekeeper, who responded with a neutral smile, saying only, "Don't look at me. Sophie sets your menu."

Beside Amelia, Sophie just shook her head at the housekeeper and said, "Would you mind bringing out a scoop of that sugar-free ice cream Abel made?"

The housekeeper, Mrs. W they called her, murmured, "Of course," and disappeared back through the butler's pantry. Aunt Amelia scowled at Sophie and said, "I'm not eating it. Sugar-free is never as good as the real thing. I want chocolate cake."

"Well, you can't have it," Sophie said, crisply. "You snuck shortbread today."

At Aunt Amelia's mutinous expression, Annalise burst out laughing, her blue eyes sparkling when she said, "How do you always know? Your kids are never going to get away with anything."

"I know, I tell her that all the time. Sophie has eyes in the back of her head," Gage said.

Amelia let out a disgruntled harrumph. She might not have been happy about that sugar-free ice cream, but when Mrs. W placed the bowl in front of her, she ate it. Every bite.

I was happy to get chocolate cake. Food wasn't always a focus for me. Depending on the job I was on, meals could be infrequent and too much take out got to be an easy habit. Living at Winters House, that was not going to be a problem. Three meals a day prepared by a personal chef who knew what he was doing in the kitchen.

I hoped they had a gym somewhere around here or I was going to get soft.

Annalise stood after dinner and announced that she was tired and just wanted to read in bed. She didn't realize I was following her down the hall until we passed the kitchen and family room and were almost in the corner of the house occupied by her suite and her cousin Jacob's.

Jacob owned a mixed-use residential/commercial building in midtown and had modified the top floor into a spacious penthouse that he occupied with his fiancée. We'd be the only ones living in this corner of Winters House. I saw her shoulders tense as I followed her past the door to Jacob's suite. When she reached her own door, she turned to face me.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed. You said we were turning in for the night," I said.

She crossed her arms over her chest and set her feet, clearly not prepared to move. I did the same.

"You are not staying here with me. This is a huge house. If you need to be close, Jacob's suite is right there.” She threw out her arm and pointed at Jacob's closed door.

"No," I said. "That doesn't work." Lowering my voice, I took two steps closer, until we were almost touching and said, "I have two jobs here. The first is to play your fiancé to draw out your stalker so we can catch him. The second is to keep you safe. This guy may not be dangerous, but if he is, we're poking at a tiger. I am not sleeping fifty feet away with two closed doors and a hall in between us. It's not going to happen."

Annalise stared me down, eyes narrowed, before she let out a huff of breath, dropped her arms and turned on her heel. She opened the door and swung it wide. "Fine. You can have the couch. And it doesn't fold out."

I took one look at the couch in her sitting room and let out a sigh. I was six three, with broad shoulders. That couch would've been perfect for cuddling in front of the TV, but it was more love seat than couch. It sure as hell wasn't going to fit me. Not if I wanted a good night sleep.

Annalise stalked into her bedroom and returned a moment later with a pillow and a blanket. She tossed them on the couch, sent me another glare, and disappeared into her bedroom.

At least I had a TV. I left her suite to collect my bags and came back to find the door to her bedroom shut. A little poking around and I discovered the other door off the sitting room led to a full bath, which in turn opened into her closet, and from there to her bedroom. She'd left both doors shut. I changed into something more comfortable and stretched out, as much as I could, on the short couch.

I woke the next morning with a stiff neck and an aching back. I'd left the couch sometime in the middle of the night and made up a bed on the floor. I'd slept in worse places, but the floor still wasn't comfortable. No way was I doing that again. Not when Annalise had a king-size bed.