After four glasses of champagne, Annika surged to her feet and grabbed his hand. “We need to talk. Somewhere private, no cameras.”

“Not sure I’ve ever heard those words from your mouth before.”

“Shut up.” She pulled him along the edge of the dance floor. The band had launched into a fast-moving swing number that had dancers laughing and scrambling to keep up. She snagged another bottle of champagne on her way out of the white catering tent.

Outside, Finn drew in a deep breath of the fresh evening air. A breeze had sprung up, making the lanterns sway and shadows dance across the grass.

“Slow down, Annika. You’re going to fall on your ass at this rate.”

“If you care about my ass, you better start acting like it, mister.” She whirled around and poked him in the chest. “I’ve gone out of my way for you, Finn Abrams. It’s time for you to step up.”

He caught her hand against his chest, mostly to protect himself. He knew this mood of hers. Any second now, she was liable to throw a chair at him. “Excuse me?”

She ripped her hand away from his grip. “I have to get you off my chest.”

“What?”

“I mean…it. The thing. Get it off my chest.”

“What thing?” Finn didn’t know if he should be laughing or driving her home.

“The thing that’s on my chest.”

Totally confused, he dropped his gaze to her chest, where he saw nothing but barely there silk and a Tibetan symbol dangling from a platinum chain.

“I mean, the thing that’s on my mind.” Annika tapped the side of her head. “Eyes up here. God, what’s wrong with you?”

“Christ, Annika. Whatever’s going on, let’s talk about it later. I don’t want to make a scene at Evie and Sean’s wedding.”

“I. Will make a scene. Wherever I want to.” She whirled around and stalked a few feet away. Folding her arms across her chest, she presented her back to him. “You need to fucking propose to me, like now.”

“What?”

She spun around and stalked toward him. “Yes. Because my time is val-u-able.” She drew out the syllables. “People pay mill-ions for my time. And I give it to you for free. But nothing is free, Finn. Not in Hollywood. And Hollywood’s just like the real world except better.”

“Okay, you’re going off the rails here, Annika.” He glanced around to see if anyone was watching or listening. He wanted to remind her their relationship was all an act, but he didn’t want to take a chance on someone reporting this to the tabloids.

“Gemma has it all worked out. Beauty and the Beast.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. “What on God’s green earth are you talking about?”

“I’m Beauty, because duh.” She swept a hand down her side in a sensual move that would have turned him on in the past. “And you’re the Beast, because duh.” She waved at the scarred side of his face. “People will love us together. Do you know how much good press I got after you got burned? All those times I came to the hospital?”

A sinking feeling grabbed at his stomach. All those times she came to the hospital—was there a hidden agenda involved? “So Gemma sent you to visit me?”

“The woman’s a genius.”

Holy crap. All this time, he’d been thinking she’d come to the hospital out of kindness. What a fool he was.

“At first I didn’t want to, because of…you know.” She glanced at his scars again. “But I do care about you, Finn. So I’ve decided I can live with your deformity.”

“Oh. My deformity.” Sometime later, the meaning would sink in. For now, her words slid off without making a dent. None of it mattered anyway. Nothing could touch him in this numb state. “That’s, uh…damn, Annika. Where is this even coming from? You seriously want to get married? Why?”

“Well, you are, you know. You were. A catch.” The twinkle lights cast whimsical will-o’-the-wisp sparkles across the smooth planes of her face. Objectively, she was beautiful. No one could deny that. “With your father and all.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and stepped closer to her. “What if I told you he isn’t really my father?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true. Not only that, we had a big fight and now we’re not speaking. He cut me off, or I cut him off. Not sure which.”

“No. Way. I haven’t seen anything in the news about that.”

“Yeah, well, the news might have other things to report on. It’s all true. Still want me to propose?” He took another step closer. “You want to look at this deformed face for the rest of your life? Or maybe just a couple of years until the divorce?”

“Stop it.” She took a step back, eyes huge. “What are you going to do, Finn? You broke with Stu? This is serious.”

Shrugging, he came even closer. “I’m not worried. I figure I’ll marry a rich and famous actress and be set for life.”

Her forehead creased. She thrust her bottle of champagne at him. “I’m out of here. I’ll find Mark, he’ll take me back to my room.”

“Good choice.” He took the bottle and tilted it to his lips. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough for any of this.

Under a swaying Chinese lantern, she paused. “You can’t stay in this little pit stop of a town forever, Finn. You can’t be a fireman anymore. Not with all those burns and scars. You’d better make up with Stu or you’ll be nothing. Nothing at all.”

He watched her go, red lantern light glimmering on the ivory silk of her dress. Half a bottle of champagne slid down his throat.

Cheers, he thought. Here’s to nothing.

He slumped onto a redwood bench at the edge of the clearing and closed his eyes. The champagne was making his head spin; he’d always been more of a beer drinker. Like his father, the thought flashed into his mind. His real father, who worked at a bar somewhere.

An image of his mother shimmered to life. Not Ellie Abrams, who he barely remembered. This was a young woman with dark, wavy hair like his, smiling at him with incandescent kindness.

* * *

“Finn? Are you all right?”

His eyes snapped open. Lisa Peretti stood before him, barefoot, her sandals held in one hand. Wary sympathy shone from her dark eyes.

Great. How much had she overheard? “Fine. How are you?”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“Not bad. For what it’s worth, ‘deformed’ is a little over the top. As a medical professional, I wouldn’t use that phrase.”

“So you heard all that.”

She nodded. Her glance flickered down his body, and it seemed she wanted to say something else. But she didn’t. She probably wasn’t one for empty expressions of sympathy.

“Fan-tastic. I’m trying to figure why I keep embarrassing myself in front of you and I’m coming up blank.” He grabbed the champagne bottle and took another swallow. “Drink?”

“I’m good. I don’t drink when I’m working.”

“So I’m drinking alone, then. One more embarrassing moment, in case you’re counting.” He toasted her with the bottle then set it aside. Any more and he might throw up. That would definitely put him in the Humiliation Hall of Fame for good.

She came toward the bench and sat next to him. Not right next to him, but close enough so he could inhale her scent, something light and spicy. “So, uh…I have a question for you,” she said.

“The answer is yes.”

She laughed. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

“This? This isn’t flirting. Believe me, you’ll know when I get back into flirting.” Suddenly he felt a hell of a lot better than he had a few minutes ago. In a flash, this wedding had gone from endless tedium to something more like exhilaration.

“Will there be more cheesy pick-up lines?” She clasped her hands at her throat and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “A girl can dream.”

“Speaking of dreams… Do your legs hurt from running through my dreams all night?”

She groaned. “Worst ever. You keep topping yourself. It’s a gift.”

“Yeah, kind of like that gift from your great-aunt Gertrude that you can’t return because she’d be insulted.”

“Oh, I doubt it. I’m sure that kind of thing works on most people.”

“That kind of thing?”

She smoothed out a wrinkle on her dress. The night breeze lifted the long strands of hair that had come loose. “You know, the charming thing.”

“I’ve had nearly an entire bottle of champagne, but I’m pretty sure you just called me charming.”

“And I said it doesn’t work on me.”

He squinted up at the night sky. The lanterns overheard swayed, sending shadows chasing across the lawn. “No, you didn’t. You said it worked on most people.”

“But I’m not most people.”

“Now that,” he looked back at her, “is for sure. One hundred percent.”

It was a little hard to tell in the light of the lanterns, but it looked like she was blushing under his gaze. “I’m never going to go out with you, Finn.”

She sounded so serious that it took him aback. Never? “Why not?”

“I’m not interested in dating anyone. I won’t be in Jupiter Point for long. Even if I were…” She bit her lip, glancing away from him.

With all that champagne in his system, he went for the joke. “Let me guess. I’m too charming, funny, handsome and irresistible.”

“Exactly.”

He gave a double-take. “I was joking. I figured maybe it was the scars.”

Her eyes flew up to meet his. “Of course not. It’s the opposite of that. It’s all the other stuff. The Hollywood stuff.”

The Hollywood stuff. The kind of thing that was catnip to the other women he’d dated was a turnoff for Lisa Peretti. Great.

Actually, it was kind of great.

“So if I dial back the charm and good looks, we can try again sometime?”

She smiled—there was that damn dimple again—then laughed. “You can’t even offer to dial back the charm without being charming.”

“Damn it. I’m going to have to talk to Aunt Gertrude about this.”

“And there you go again.”

For a moment, they grinned at each other like fools. Sure, she was rejecting him again. But it didn’t feel that way. It felt as if they were wrapped together by the breeze, the starry night, the swaying lanterns.

He tilted his head back and took in the dark arch of sky overhead. Was it more majestic than usual, more stunning? Or was that Lisa’s effect? He pointed to the brightest object in the sky. “Venus is in opposition. That’s why it’s so bright lately. Pretty good timing for a wedding.”

“It’s just a planet, millions of miles away. It has nothing to do with Evie’s wedding.”

“Oh, I see how you are,” he teased. “All logic, no romance. No wonder I fell flat on my face with you.”

She nudged him with her elbow, a quick touch that sent a thrill through him. “You didn’t fall totally flat,” she confessed. “You definitely made an impression. I didn’t expect to see you again, though.”

“Believe me, I didn’t either. Maybe Venus is playing tricks on us.” She shot him a look. “I know, I know, it’s just a planet. But it’s an especially beautiful, mysterious one. Its surface can’t even be photographed. They have to map it with radar.”

They both looked up at the planet in question, an enchanting spark of light in the velvet sky. He breathed in the fragrance of her hair, rosemary and mint, and felt more alive than he had since the burnover. Not numb at all, not even a little bit.

Then she broke the spell. “So, my question.”

“‘Yes’ wasn’t the right answer? Fine, go ahead. Ask away.”

“Did you get the limp at the same time as the scars?”

And just like that, all the magic evaporated from the moment. He stiffened and pulled himself upright. He couldn’t believe she’d noticed his limp. He’d slaved so hard in PT to get rid of it. Most people didn’t pick up on it. But like she’d said, she wasn’t “most people.” She was a medical professional. She was also someone who’d just witnessed him being dumped by his movie-star girlfriend and labeled as “deformed.” And she’d rejected him and informed him she’d never go out with him.

Yeah. No. He didn’t want to talk about his limp with her.

“I did, yes. But it’s fine. I got it handled.”

“I’m an ER nurse, and I have some experience with that sort of—”

He cut her off. “Thanks, but that’s okay.”

“I just wanted to offer—”

“You’d better get back to Molly.”

At his gruff tone, the sympathetic expression vanished from her face and she gave a tight nod. “Okay. You’re right, they’re probably looking for me by now. Maybe I’ll see you around, Finn.”

“Sounds good.”

With her shoes dangling from one hand, she gave him a formal sort of nod and headed toward the white tent, where the band was deep into a bad cover of “Desperado.”

Sounds good? What a moronic thing to say.

But at least no one could call it charming.