Somewhere between one and thirty seconds ago, her arrogant earl had turned into a London wanna-be brawler. Something she read about once in a romance novel. Okay, so she’d read that baby until it had become dog-eared.

Glen sputtered, “Ah…no. I mean yes… Shit.”

“I suggest you leave,” Sebastian growled and Jelly Belly whined, shaking her tail. The dog looked as though she wanted Sebastian to pet her. “And your little rat, too.”

Nina let out a horrified gasp. “Why I never!”

“Now you have,” Sebastian snapped.

Yeah, this was not going to end well. Grabbing Sebastian’s arm, Daisy said, “Let’s get you something to eat.” She shot Nina and Glen an apologetic smile. “Hungry always equals grumpy, you know.”

The couple hurried away, giving them both odd looks over their shoulders.

Good riddance, Sebastian thought. He turned his attention to Daisy. “I am not hungry.”

She tilted her head to one side. “How did you know Glen was my ex? And how did you know he took my dog?”

Oh hell. Think, dammit, think. “Your conversation carried.”

Glancing down, she wiggled a foot. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

He gently hooked a finger under her chin and applied a bit of pressure so she’d look at him. Her hazel eyes were shiny and there was a tell-tale blush on her cheeks. “Never be embarrassed with me.”

“But I don’t know you,” she said softly, her lashes fluttering down.

“Like I said before, get to know me,” he said, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. She trembled and so did he. Unable to help himself, he dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. Her hands came between them, pressing on his chest.

“I can’t,” she said.

"You can." He kissed her again. "One more kiss, Daisy."

Mouth trembling, she kissed him back. Soft, chaste, and so sweet that he melted inside, even as she melted in his arms. If only they were inside right now.

Deepening the kiss, he teased her mouth open and slid his tongue inside. She gasped and he slanted his head, fitting his lips more firmly to hers as his hands came up to cup her face. She tasted of honey and mint. She tasted exactly how he’d dreamed she would, and yet no dream could ever do justice to the taste of Daisy.

Her fingers curled into him, pulling tight on his suit jacket. “Sebastian, please,” she whispered again his lips. “Please, stop. I can’t do this.”

He was going too fast for her, and they were in public. “Get to know me, Daisy.” Pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, he smiled. “I promise I’m not that bad, once you get past all the prickly stuff.”

She pushed him back and looked up at him, the tips of her fingers pressed to her mouth. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Don’t kiss me again,” she choked out, her eyes swimming with tears. Tears that he knew he’d somehow caused.

“Why the hell not?” he snapped, close to his breaking point. Jesus Christ, he hated this. He’d kissed her with a passion borne of late night chats and constant emails. Of shared nightmares and midnight confessions. Of dreams and wants that each had sworn to only to share with the other.

He’d kissed her like he loved her, like he knew her, because he did.

Yet she felt none of it.

“Because there’s someone else I’m saving my kisses for,” she whispered, and ran inside.

Chapter Eleven

Sebastian started after her, then froze as a crew of constructions workers came through the door, cutting on the radio and resuming their work. The sounds of music, hammer, and saws filled his ears, but it still felt as if every eye were on him.

He stood there a good five minutes before it hit him—Daisy was saving her kisses for Jules, for him.

Victory roared and just as swiftly, his rational side reminded him that to Daisy, he was Sebastian, and she didn’t want his kisses. Thank you very much.

However, he was a Romanov, and Romanovs went after what they wanted. And he wanted Daisy. “For God’s sake,” he muttered, then dashed up the stairs and into her flat where he found her bent over a portable table.

She was sketching. It looked to be a wedding cake and she was quite brilliant at it. Hell, he wanted to eat it. Then again, he had the most annoying sweet tooth and she made the most spectacular desserts.

The tip of her pencil broke. “You would,” she muttered, then glanced up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry for kissing you, without your permission,” he said.

“You’re forgiven; just don’t do it again.”

He supposed he should be thankful that she didn’t make him promise not to kiss her again, because he had every intention of doing so. “Is that for my brother’s wedding?”

“No.”

Studying her design, he said, “You could bring out the—”

“Do I give you pointers on world domination?”

“Moonshine could be the official drink, to pay tribute to your family.”

Hazel eyes crinkled at the corner. “So you do know who the Dukes of Hazzard County are.”

She couldn’t stay mad at him. A point her favor, and in his since he was the beneficiary of her benevolence.

“Boredom struck last night. I bought the series, as one does.”

Her head dipped as she sketched, adding more flowers to the second tier. “I’m surprised you didn’t hire the actors to come to your house.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, and then clamped his jaw shut.

She glanced up at him. “I was teasing you, Sebastian.”

Like Jules had told her to do. “Noted.” Placing his hands behind his back, he wandered around her flat. “May I ask you a question?”

“Only if it isn’t an insult.”

“Rather narrow parameters you’ve given me.”

Sighing, she placed her pencil to the side. “Just ask.”

“Have you made up your mind, or did our impromptu kiss persuade you not to take my offer?”

She smiled, small and tight. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask who the other man was, then again, you don’t concern yourself with stuff like that, do you? You probably expect me to break up with him and be with you, because it’s on your to-do list.”

Ordinarily, yes, but this was no ordinary circumstance. Everything was on the line. “Okay, who’s the other man, and when can I meet him?”

Her face paled, and then turned red. “His name is Jules, and you can’t, because he doesn’t live around here.”

He kept his expression neutral, despite never being happier at being categorized as the other man. “Sure you’re not making him up?”

She straightened. “No.”

“No, you’re not sure?”

One cheek hallowed. Oh yeah, he’d ticked her off. She was chewing on the inside of her mouth. A bad habit he’d once told her to stop. “He’s real.”

“But I can’t meet him?”

“I told you he doesn’t live around here.”

“That’s not a problem for me. I own a jet.”

She chewed harder and he inwardly winced. She really needed to stop. “Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t enjoy kissing you?”

“No.”

Her mouth fell open. “God, you’re conceited.”

Guilty. “I’m right, aren’t I?” He took a step closer to her. “You enjoyed every minute of our kiss. In fact, I’d bet you’d like to do it again.”

She shook her head. “I would not,” she said faintly, but the lie was loud in her tone.

He smiled, confident as he’d ever been. “Say yes, Daisy.”

“I’m not kissing you again.”

“Say yes to this.” He dug a box out of his pocket and opened it. Her eyes widened at the pink diamond inside. “Pretend to be mine while you really get to know me. Who knows, maybe next time, you’ll be the one to kiss me.” He set the box down on the counter and strolled out of her flat, without waiting for an answer.

He was barely in his car before Daisy texted him. Well, not him, Jules. He frowned.

Daisy: I really need someone to talk to. Can I call you?

It was time to let doubt enter their relationship.

Jules: Actually, no. I’m rather busy at moment.

Daisy: Oh. Sorry, I thought you’d be home from work by now.

Jules: I’m out with some friends. New club in Mayfair.

Daisy: Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later.

Jules: Probably not tonight. How about I text you when I have a moment?

Daisy: Sure. Have fun.

Jules: Thanks. Bye!

Hating himself, Sebastian threw his phone in the passenger seat beside him, and started up the Mercedes.

He was taking a big risk by doing this, the biggest he’d ever taken. In the end, he could be without Romanov Industries and Daisy—if he ever manned up and revealed his deception.

Chapter Twelve

At precisely nine o’clock the next morning, Sebastian parked his Mercedes beside Daisy’s Honda. He got out and walked along the tree-lined path. A few minutes later, he caught sight of her, sitting beside a headstone, flowers in her lap, and her head bent.

He paused, not wanting to intrude upon her prayers or private thoughts. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in coming. Only he knew that she visited her parents’ graves once a month, on the fifteenth, which was today

The wind picked up, sending a few petals from the bouquet in his hand floating.

Daisy lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. An O formed on her mouth, and then a little smile. She waved at him.

Still feeling like an intruder, he shuffled over and kneeled beside her. “Good morning,” he said softly, and then read the inscription on the headstone. Words like Beloved Mother and Beloved Father jumped out at him, as well as the dates. God, her parents had been young and so had she.

His heart constricted for her.

“Morning,” she said. The wind gently blew, her scent of vanilla and honey reaching him. “How did you know I was here?”

Damn it, he was tired of lying, but the end justified the means. She needed him. “Zoe informed me that you’d be here this morning instead of your flat right as I was leaving.”

“Oh.” Her lips trembled.

He handed her the bouquet. “These are for your parents.”

“Thank you.” She took the bouquet and placed it beside hers in the urn situated between the two headstones. Her shoulders shook a little and he reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“Thank you,” she said again, her voice whisper-thin now. “After all these years, I shouldn’t feel like crying. I know my parents are in Heaven, happy and with each other. I know this, but…I’m tired of being alone, Sebastian.”

As was he. He could be surrounded by business colleagues, friends, or extended family, yet still feel so damn alone that it left an acrid taste in his mouth.

He swallowed. “I know this might not mean much, but right now, at this moment, you’re not alone. I’m…I’m here for you.”

She turned and gazed up at him, tears threatening to spill over black lashes. Today her sweater was dark blue and she wore even darker jeans, with little black flats on her feet. The chopsticks in her hair were black as well. Such a somber sight she was and that manage to break off a little piece of his heart.

“Even if I told you that I think this whole fake fiancée thing is a bad idea?”

“Yes,” he said, surprising himself. He’d leave this instant if she wanted.

“Really?” she asked, tears now falling down her cheeks.

Her shoulders shook harder and he pulled her into his arms, stroking her back as she cried without a sound. “Truly,” he whispered in her hair and he meant it.

Funny how his own father’s death was still fresh in his mind, yet he didn’t feel a tenth of the sorrow she did. Most likely, he never would. As for his mother… She’d made her choice—money over her own sons. Something he hadn’t shared with Daisy.

“Don’t worry,” she sniffed, capturing his attention once more. “I won’t tell anyone that you’re really a sweetheart.”

Lips thinning, he shook his head. He was the exact opposite of a sweetheart. Everything he did was for his own gain, his greater purpose. Except when it came to Daisy. His very awful, drawn-out lie to her didn’t count.

“No one would believe you.”

“But I’d know the truth,” she replied, as if that was all that mattered.

And in that moment, her knowledge of the truth was all that mattered to him.

***

He followed her to town, parking on the street in front of her flat, and met her at the entrance of the building. She smiled at him, and he took it for a positive sign.

“I really need an answer, Daisy. I don’t have much time, and if you’re not agreeable, then I’ll need to find someone else, which isn’t a problem for me, but you’ll still have the same medical bills looming over you.” He swallowed the boulder in his throat. His threat was empty. There wasn’t a clock running down in the background. The Board didn’t care how quickly he got his life back together. Romanov Industries most likely ran just as well without him, or it had before he’d mucked things up by making a deal with just-this-side-of-legal companies.

“I don’t know,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

“After this morning, I would have thought your answer would be yes.”