As the sedan pulled into the cul-de-sac flanking his family’s home, Asim couldn’t help but relish the excited gasps and squeals coming from the girls.

The palace was impressive—as it had been for the past ten generations. What had started as an opulent outpost stationed at an oasis now beamed as a vast estate. Though the home was built far before the city had encroached so closely, the garden walls did a good job of creating the illusion of isolation. They would wander plenty before finding any evidence of the busy Beirut beyond.

“We’re here,” he said once the car came to a stop, pushing open his door. He offered his hand to Elena, smiling as she stepped out. Her eyes seemed soldered to the whitewashed palace façade, all four stories of its elegant grandeur. Stained glass ovals dotted the tops of each window. The winding sandstone staircase led up to a mid-level patio, flanked with an intricate railing. He’d overlooked the premises from that post too many times to count, but today, suddenly, it was like he was seeing it for the first time.

“Are you serious?” Aubrey’s neck craned as she took it all in. He smiled down at Elena, pleased to find her similarly in a state of wonder.

“Extremely,” he said, nodding at Mohammed as he began to unload their things.

“This is like a freakin’ resort,” Aubrey continued. “Seriously. How huge is this place? How many people live here?”

He tilted his head as he thought. “Oh, I’d say about a dozen at any given time.” Their footsteps crunched over the gravel pathway as he led them to the staircase. The scent of jasmine reached him as they passed the delicate plants; he took a deep inhale. “Not including the staff.”

Aubrey furrowed a brow as they climbed the stairs. “Okay, so that’s like, bigger than any party that could ever fit in my apartment back home. And those people just live with you.”

He smiled. Their worlds couldn’t be more different. He liked the chance to show these young women his version of life. And for some reason, he was curious to see their version as well. Especially quiet Elena’s, who seemed to have way more flitting around in her head than she let on.

“The estate is quite large, yes.” He pushed on the tall double doors leading to the foyer. They groaned as they opened, revealing the shiny floor, which boasted large white marble squares with crisscrossing marigold and auburn patterns. “You could be here for days without realizing anyone else is here. If you know how to do it, at least.” He turned, winking at Elena.

The blush in her cheeks was the only response he needed. He led them through the main foyer, past the enormous pots bursting with luxurious ferns, under dangling chandeliers dripping bright baubles.

He turned a corner, leading them toward the guest wing. Sunlight streamed into the hall from the wall of windows, which looked over the ample inner courtyard. Gardenia floated in the air; his mother’s favorite flowers were a constant presence in his home.

“What do you think?” He turned to Elena. She’d been notably silent, which made him even more eager for her input. Yet he couldn’t figure why—of course she’d be impressed. Everyone was.

She sighed slightly, then said, “It’s like someone turned a sunset into a home.”

He stilled, meeting her eyes. The words reverberated in his head, echoing on repeat. “Wow.”

Aubrey glanced at him, the corner of her mouth lifting. “She has a way with words. But an even better way with color.”

In all the years of visitors, gawkers, curious parties, and educated elites, he’d never heard it put quite that way. Elena offered a small smile, as though she could see the exclamation points bouncing around in his skull.

“Well.” He continued walking, leading them toward the guest wing where their rooms would be. “Thank you for that. Would you prefer a room together, or separate rooms?”

“We’re not lesbians,” Aubrey said, slicing her hand through the air.

Asim grinned, glancing back at her. “I never thought you were.” At least I hoped you weren’t. “I merely offered it as one of various options while staying in my home. We have plenty of rooms, so you may each have your own. But if you’d prefer to share one, that can be arranged as well.”

“We can sh—” Elena began.

“I’d like my own room, thank you,” Aubrey cut in, sending a look to Elena. “After six weeks on the road, I’m due for a little alone time. And no offense, but this girl snores.” She jerked a thumb to Elena. “You better watch out on your fake honeymoon.”

Asim chuckled, catching Elena’s warm gaze and the slight color in her cheeks. “I do not snore,” she protested.

“Sure, sure.” Aubrey followed him as he pushed open a large door leading to the first guest room. He gestured for her to enter.

“This will be your room, Aubrey.” He stood in the doorway as she inspected the room, hands clasped behind his back. A four-poster bed sat in the middle of the bright room, sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains.

“Yours is right down the hallway,” he said, turning to Elena, who tested the softness of the bed. “I’ll show you that next, so you’ll be able to find your way back here.”

Aubrey’s shocked gasp rang out through the room. “Oh, my God, you guys. This bathroom.”

Asim grinned, nodding. “I take it you’re satisfied with the accommodations?”

“I could live in this bathroom alone for the next week,” she said. Something clanged—maybe she was rummaging through the drawers in there. “I’ll be in here if anyone needs me!”

Asim stepped into the hallway, jerking his head to the side. “Let’s go see your room.”

Elena strolled at his side, neck craned as she took in the surroundings. A thrill raced through him, imagining what her sweet take might be on the events of today.

“I hope your stay here can make up for the rude nature of my request,” he said, rubbing at his jawline as nervousness overcame him. “I’d be happy to explain it to anyone who needs to know.” He glanced at her, the words heavy on his lips. “Including your…boyfriend. Or whoever.”

Elena looked up at him, her hazel eyes sharp as a whip. “Well, my CIA-sniper boyfriend will want to know why my phone has gone off the planned course.” She tutted. “He’s an ex-Navy SEAL, too. So he’s, you know, trained.”

Asim furrowed a brow. Strange this hadn’t come up before.

“He’ll probably show up here and ask questions before I can do much explaining to him over the internet, though.” She sniffed. “He might take a few people out, but, hey. That’s the price of being his woman, you know?”

Asim stilled, watching her with a hard look. Was this the cost of his spontaneity? He’d asked a totally controlled woman to pose as his fiancée. Great. But when the hint of a grin crossed her face, he knew he’d been fooled.

“You’re kidding,” he said, almost like a command. Please tell me you’re single.

“I am.” She laughed. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I just wanted to shake that rock-hard alpha foundation of yours.”

Her words rattled around inside of him, making rowdy echoes that bothered him. But instead of thinking too much about it, he pushed open the door leading to Elena’s suite. It creaked open, revealing a room similar to Aubrey’s, but grander, more elegant. There was more open space; more sunlight; more potted plants; and a larger bathroom, boasting bathtub, shower, infinity pool, and a jacuzzi.

“This is your room,” he said, watching as she strolled over the plush white carpet, dragging a hand along the rich mauve comforter. “It was my grandmother’s favorite room.”

“I can see why.” She glanced back at him, those hazel eyes and high cheekbones snagging him like a fishing line. He swallowed hard. “The lines in this room, the colors.” She paused, craning her neck to look at the stucco ceiling, which was decorated in geometric motifs. “It’s just a riot of expression.”

His throat tightened, but he wasn’t sure why. He leaned against the door frame, enjoying the way she dragged her fingertips over almost every surface, pausing in front of every detail and intricacy in the decoration. There was something methodical in the way she absorbed her surroundings. Like she might be filling a catalog, somewhere in her mind.

After she’d explored nearly the whole room, she looked over at him, surprise on her face. “Sorry,” she breathed. “I just…get lost. Thanks for showing me to the room.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, wanting to do anything other than leave.

“I’m sure I can find my way back to Aubrey’s room,” she said, offering a small smile. “So don’t worry.”

He opened his mouth to respond, to continue the conversation, but the truth jolted through him. She was dismissing him. It was time for him to leave. “Right. Well, if you need anything at all, pull this cord here.” He pointed to the silk rope hanging near the door. “One of the staff will attend to you quickly. I’ll make sure someone is posted.”

She arched a brow, gaze lingering on the rope. Her mouth opened, as though she would add something else, but then clamped it shut. She offered a smile instead. “I should unpack. Take a real shower.”

He nodded, looking her up and down. Maybe I could join you for that shower. The thought scorched through him, almost rattling him. When he’d laid eyes on her earlier that day, she was simply beautiful. Now, she was the most gorgeous fruit that he was desperate to taste.

His fake fiancée.

“Settle in. And feel free to wander the palace. Go anywhere, explore. This is my home, which is now your home.” He grinned at her as he pulled the door shut. “I’ll find you two later to catch up.”

Once the door clicked shut, he leaned his forehead against the molding, raucous thoughts clouding his mind.

I want you. Somewhere between the coast of Beirut and the guest wing of his house, his very real attraction to this woman had blossomed into a very dangerous desire.

If she would be his pretend girlfriend, then it stood to reason they should enjoy all the benefits that came with that status. At least once before she left. If only to make the ruse more compelling. More viscerally raw.

And if he had anything to do with it, he’d make sure that potentiality became a delicious reality.