“I’ve got something to show you.” He opens a door and closes it again. We keep walking down the corridor, and he opens another door and peers in and then pulls me inside and slams the door shut behind us.

I look around. We are in a library of some sort. Antique-looking books line the walls. There’s a fireplace and formal, expensive-looking chairs.

Henley pulls me over to a chair and sits down and rearranges me over his lap to straddle him.

We fall silent as our most private parts touch.

He’s hard. I’m soft and wet.

The air crackles as we stare at each other.

One night. I just want one night. Is that so bad?

“Kiss me,” he whispers darkly.

My lips take his, and his hands slide up under my dress to cup my behind.

Oh . . .

He moves my body to grind over his hardened cock, and I begin to build.

Back . . . forward. Back, forward.

His tongue delivering the perfect kiss.

His hands move to my hip bones, bringing my body down harder onto his.

Fuck.

I glance up at the door. What if someone walks in?

I begin to lose control as he grinds me onto his erection, my breath quivering as I try to hide my arousal. His grip on my hip bones is near painful, and I shudder and moan into his mouth as an intense orgasm tears through me.

He inhales sharply and holds me still and pushes forward, and I feel the jerk as he comes hard, right there in his pants.

We pant as we kiss, coming down from our high.

Tenderness falls between us. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Did you just fake an orgasm?” He smiles against my lips.

“Totally,” I pant. “Did you?”

“Of course.” He lifts me off his lap and we both stand, totally disoriented.

He runs his hand through his disheveled hair.

Holy shit . . . did that just happen?

“I need a bathroom.” He smirks as he grabs me aggressively and bites my neck.

“You do.” I giggle as I try to get away from him. “You’re a disgusting hot mess.”

“You can talk,” he mutters as he pulls down my dress and rearranges it. He takes my hand. “We should get back before we are banned from this place.”

I giggle as I imagine someone busting in on us. “Okay.”

He leads me back out into the corridor, and we walk back to the reception hall.

What the fuck?

Did that just happen?

The festivities are ending as the night comes to a close. Henley looks around. “I’m going to the bathroom. Back in a minute.”

“Okay.” I count the ways I’m going to eat this man whole when we get home.

One night can’t hurt.

I’m here for it.

I go to the bathroom and wash my hands; I smile goofily at my reflection in the mirror. I’m flushed and disheveled and feeling on top of the world.

“Holy shit.” Oh my god, this is going to be so fucking good. I take my time as I try to calm myself down from having a full fangirl moment over him. And eventually, I make my way back out.

Henley is saying goodbye to everyone at our table and shaking hands. “Lovely to meet you.” He smiles. He kisses Chloe and Leonie on the cheek, and I think they are fangirling him harder than I am.

Not possible.

I say my goodbyes to everyone as he watches on.

Henley takes my hand, and we walk back to the car. The tenderness we just shared isn’t there anymore, but perhaps I’m just imagining it.

He opens the car door, and I slide in. He gets in behind the wheel and pulls out onto the road, and we drive for a while. Curiously . . . he’s not touching me. Which is weird because he’s been all over me all night. “So, what are you going to tell them?” he asks casually as he drives.

“Huh?” I frown over at him in confusion.

“The reason why we’re breaking up—what are you going to tell them?”

“Oh.” My mind begins to scramble. That’s the last thing I thought was going to come out of his mouth. “I’ll think of something,” I say softly as I look out the window.

What?

We drive home in silence. Gone is the playful, sexy god who was my date.

Henley James is here in all his bastardly glory.

He stops the car outside my house, gets out, and opens my car door. He helps me out by my hand. “Good night, Juliet,” he says casually, as if I’m a stranger he met on a bus.

I frown.

“Have a good night.” He smiles.

I stare at him. What the hell? “You too,” I whisper distractedly.

He gets back into his car and circles around the cul-de-sac and drives off down the street.

What?

He’s going out?

I stand on the end of my driveway watching as his car disappears out of sight.

What the fuck was that?

Chapter 8

The hot water runs over my head as I lean up against the tiles.

I don’t understand this man at all. He was into it. I know he was because I was right there with him.

And then he flipped a switch—just like he did when we went on our first date.

Perfect when in the moment, and then he turns into something cold. It’s like he’s two different people. I’ve never met anyone like him.

Nor do I want to.

I run my hand down my face in disgust. And now to make matters worse, I have to see him every damn day—when I know he doesn’t like me—knowing that I like him.

My blood boils, and I’m infuriated with myself. He knew exactly what he was playing at, and I was like putty in his hands. Doing everything that he told me to do like a pathetic little puppy.

He’s probably at Vanessa the Undresser’s house at this very moment.

Giving her the steak that I preheated.

Ugh . . .

I roll into bed and toss and turn and kick myself for going there in the first place.

One thing I do know now for certain is that I’m not cut out for fake dating; all those romance books are full of shit.

This sucks.

The sound of a car wakes me from my sleep, and I sit up straight like a zombie.

He’s home.

I glance at the clock: 5:00 a.m.

Where the fuck have you been all night, asshole?

Unable to help it, I scurry to the window and spy through the sheer curtains. I watch as Henley slowly drives into his garage and gets out of his car.

He’s still wearing the suit that he wore to the wedding. I roll my eyes at my idiocy. What do you think he’s going to wear home, a bathrobe? You fucking idiot.

That is it!

I storm to the bathroom enraged with myself.

That is fucking it!