Now I’m sure I’m going to faint, so it’s a good thing the bed is just behind my legs. I sink down, hard. This impossibly handsome billionaire wants to take me with him to Vegas! “You want me to pretend we’re engaged—and in love.” It isn’t a question. I just need to say it out loud to be sure I’m not imagining things.

“That’s right.”

I gaze at him with wide eyes. “Why? Why me? A complete stranger?”

He leans forward again, and this time I catch a whiff of his cologne. That musky, spicy, intoxicating scent makes my head spin worse than it already is. Not fair. He’s just so damn hot. I need to get my brain functioning properly because things just got real.

“For one thing, you’re a beautiful woman.”

I blush and turn my face slightly away.

“You must know it’s true, so don’t put on the shy act. Beautiful women know on some level how beautiful they are.” He pauses, his eyes shining. “Though, I must admit, you’ve probably looked better than you do at the moment.”

I run a self-conscious hand over my sleep-mussed hair. “Thanks. I got this way after scouring your apartment.”

“And the effort is appreciated.” He sits back, grinning wickedly. “Another reason: you’re honest. Honesty goes a long way in my book. The fact that you made the effort to do the job correctly rather than balling up another set of sheets from the closet and throwing them into the laundry chute says a lot about your character. I appreciate that. I’ll need a woman with character if we’re going to pull this off.”

“A woman with character who will lie for you.” I really don’t know why I’m smirking.

“A woman with character who I can trust not to try to take advantage of me.”

“What does that mean? How would I even go about doing that?”

He pauses, blue eyes a little wider, as though he’s marveling at me. “You honestly have no idea. I’m liking you more and more with each passing moment, Dani.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Brock,” it rolls off his tongue like something dark, sensual and borderline dangerous.

“Well, Brock, I don’t know how I feel about this offer.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” He tents his fingers under his chin again, as he was doing when I woke up and found him watching me sleep—how creepy is that?—and says, “I enjoy negotiating and I’m prepared to do just that. Let me warn you however, that I’ve been known to drive a hard bargain.”

Terrific. I have to get myself in order and stop wondering what he’d look like without his shirt on. My heart’s beating so fast, I’m afraid I might be sick. I need to outfox him, somehow. My competitive nature won’t allow me to give in. “All right.” I swallow hard. “I assume you’d want us to share a room when we’re there.”

“A suite,” he corrects.

“Fine. A suite.” That makes things a bit better, or does it? “I would appreciate there being an arrangement in place for us to sleep separately.”

“Naturally.”

That was easy. Maybe too easy. “I would expect to sleep in the bed, of course.”

He chuckles. “We both will. It’ll be a two-bedroom affair.”

My mouth goes dry at his choice of words. I lick my lips. “Uh…I would probably need something nice enough to wear to a wedding,” I admit, the old shame comes flooding back as I look down at my hands. His cleaning woman, admitting she doesn’t have nice clothes. Because she’s never had nice clothes. She may no longer rely on Goodwill, but her wardrobe would never fly in Brock’s circle. I can’t help but laugh softly at myself. “Funny how stupid little things can bring up old baggage. I’m not exactly proud to admit I don’t have a nice dress.”

“Baggage is tricky,” he agrees, but there’s a new softness in his voice which surprises me.

My head snaps up. I look up at him defiantly. I don’t want him pitying me, or anything. I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve got and I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done.

He smiles. “No worries. I wasn’t intending to let you go to the wedding with me before purchasing a suitable wardrobe for you.”

A wardrobe? “What’s that, now?”

“This is a weekend-long agreement. You would need more than just a dress for the wedding. I planned to purchase clothing which pleases me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why should it please you?”

He shrugs. “I’m the one buying it.”

I fold my arms in front of me. “I’m the one wearing it.”

“You don’t have to wear it.” His eyes flicker over my body.

Now, a shiver runs through me. “Yeah, and I don’t have to go with you.”

He looks me in the eye at this challenge and we stare at each other for a long, silent moment. What’s going on in his head? I wish I knew, though I’m not even certain I’d be comfortable with the answer.

He clears his throat. “Wearing clothing that I find attractive is hardly a wise sticking point, Dani,” he warns. “I promise I have excellent taste, and since I will have no use for them, they would be a gift to you. You could keep them. I would like you to.”

“So long as they’re comfortable and I like them too. I’m not spending the weekend walking around looking like a fetish porn model, or something.”

It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Hmm. Now there’s an idea.”

I frown. “I mean it.”

He waves his hand. “Cool your jets. You’re quite safe. My proclivities don’t run in that direction.” There go his eyes again, straying further south. “Though I could be persuaded to change my mind.”

“Eyes up here, please.” I point to my own eyes.

He obeys with a cheeky, little-boy-caught-being-naughty smile.

I know he should irritate me to the point of slapping him and storming out, but I just can’t seem to muster up the indignation. Maybe because he’s so darn charming. Maybe because he seems like a fairly honorable person. Or maybe the truth, because he’s so frigging sexy that I want him to flirt and talk dirty to me.

“Anything else you’re concerned about?” he asks.

“Public displays of affection.”

His eyes glitter suddenly. “Personally, I believe in discretion, tact. The sight of couples slobbering all over each other in public is unnecessary. Public sex, I wouldn’t rule out—but somewhere discreet.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I mutter, shaking my head at him. He’s a real piece of work. I can’t make sense of him.

“However, we’ll have to play it by ear. While I’ve never forced myself on a woman and don’t intend on starting with you, some intimacy will be expected of a newly engaged couple.”

“What sort of intimacy?”

“Some hand holding.”

I nod.

“A quick kiss.”

I take a deep breath and nod.

“An arm around the waist—perhaps a little lower than the waist…”

“Watch it,” I warn.

“We have to be convincing, don’t we?” And now he’s all innocence. He’s having fun with me.