Yup, the whole vet thing was definitely an issue for my libido.

  A little while later, another patient and her dog entered the practice. I observed her interaction at the reception desk, hoping it wouldn’t further delay my meeting with Rafe.

  “Rocco and I have an appointment with Dr. Hayes,” she relayed.

  Dr. Hayes?

  There was another vet here?

  The young woman moved to take a seat on the bench, but her pit bull, Rocco, stopped her by pulling on his short leash to get to me.

  I dropped my e-reader on my lap to scratch behind both his ears. “Hey, you,” I murmured to him, grinning. “Aren’t you just the most handsome guy?”

  “Do you hear that, Rocco?” his owner cooed. “Another admirer.”

  Laughing, I released him so she could take a seat. “He’s gorgeous.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. He’s got some knee issues, so he’s getting used to this place.”

  “Yeah, he doesn’t seem bothered to be here at all.”

  “He likes Dr. Hayes.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask who this mysterious Dr. Hayes was, but there was no need. Footsteps sounded down the hallway, growing louder, until a tall figure appeared where Rafe had disappeared with Gilbert. I raised an eyebrow at the sight of the good-looking blond dude wearing a set of green scrubs. He couldn’t have been much older than me, putting him around Rafe’s age. His gaze swept the reception, stopping on me with a slight frown, before returning to the woman and Rocco. As he approached the pit bull, however, his attention kept flickering to me.

  “And how is Rocco today?” The man lowered to his haunches to pet the pit bull as he wagged his tail and made delighted chuffing sounds. I’d never seen a dog so happy to see his vet.

  “Hi, Dr. Hayes,” the woman said, beaming at him. I didn’t blame her. He was even more gorgeous up close. “He’s been struggling lately, so I thought I better bring him in for another checkup.”

  Dr. Hayes.

  This was the other vet.

  Oh.

  Oh, I got it.

  A small smile played on my lips.

  Two young handsome vets running a clinic together on the Upper West Side. I bet they made a killing. Maybe Rafe wasn’t so uptight that he didn’t know how to use good looks to his advantage.

  “Okay, Rocco, let’s have a look at you.” Dr. Hayes stood and his dark gaze came to me. “Are you being attended to?”

  “She’s here to see Dr. Whitman,” Finn replied.

  Interest gleamed in the vet’s chocolate brown eyes. He gave me a brief, curious smile. “All right.”

  Then he was gone, leading Rocco and her admiring owner out of the reception area.

  “Can I get you anything? Water, perhaps?” Finn asked.

  “I’m okay, but thank you.” I smiled widely, appreciative that he’d think to ask.

  His cheeks turned a little red at the crests as he nodded and focused on his computer. Noting his blue scrubs, I wondered about them, considering Dr. Hayes wore green scrubs.

  “Are you a vet too?”

  Finn’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “No. I’m a veterinary nurse.”

  “So as good as.”

  He preened, visibly pleased. “Well, I do a lot. There are two nurses here. Me and Rebecca. We do all the health checks and vaccinations, some of the more unpleasant tasks like . . . well”—his cheeks flushed—“stuff. And uh, nail clipping, dental checks. We do all that. Plus, we do all the reception work too.”

  “It sounds like this place couldn’t run without you.”

  That obviously delighted him. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything, Ms. Meadows?”

  “Please call me Star. And I’m really okay.”

  Finn nodded. “Dr. Whitman shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Thankfully, Finn was right. A few minutes later, Rafe appeared with Ms. Van Alstyne and Gilbert. They murmured together at the reception desk and then Rafe held the door open for her as she and her Chihuahua left the building.

  Then I found myself under his keen regard. His gaze lowered down my body to where my floral skirt flowed over my legs and covered my boots. I stared back, trying not to squirm.

  “This way,” he announced abruptly, marching across the reception area.

  Jumping up from my seat, I hurried to follow him, throwing Finn a small smile and ignoring how he stared after us wide-eyed.

  My boots were loud on the floor as I rushed after Rafe. He led me down a narrow hallway that had two doors with signs that read EXAM ROOM 1 and EXAM ROOM 2.

  At the end of that hall, we stopped at one of three doors. Rafe held the door open and gestured me forward. He’d ushered me into what I could only presume was his office. There was a small window on the back wall that I assumed faced into the alleyway. Artificial lighting and the same walnut touches saved the room from being dreary. There were framed degrees on his wall, as well as a family photograph.

  “Take a seat.”

  I did, watching him round his desk to sit in his dark brown leather chair. He leaned back in it, eyes hooked to mine. My breathing grew a little shallow.

  “What are you reading?” he surprised me by asking.

  It was then I realized I still clutched my e-reader in my hand. I stuffed it into my purse. “Uh, a book about an Old Hollywood starlet.”

  “Tragic?” he queried, as if he was genuinely interested.

  “Parts of it.” I smiled at him. “Do you want to start a book club?”

  He sighed wearily. “I’d really like to discuss paying you a bonus to not have you make smart comments like that.”

  “I wasn’t being smart.” I really wasn’t. “I’d love to start a book club.”

  “Someone give me patience,” Rafe muttered before he sat forward, elbows on his desk. “Do we have a deal or not?”

  “So is Dr. Hayes your partner here, or does he work for you?”

  He scowled. “What does it matter?”

  “It’s very smart,” I mused. “The two of you running this place.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I guffawed. “You know why.”

  “I do?”

  “Look at you both. You must have every person inclined toward the male gender in New York lining up to bring their beloved pets to you.”

  “You met Owen.” He sat back in his chair, eyeing me coldly. “Owen is my friend. We went through vet school together at Cornell. He’s my employee. And if we’re going to do this, he’s completely off-limits to you.”

  Wow, he was a surly bastard. “Noted, Mr. Sunshine. Will you be telling Owen the truth about us . . . if we do this?”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your business.”

  Huh. “Well, it kind of will be, because I don’t want to be the idiot pretending to like you in front of him if he already knows the truth.”

  That muscle in his jaw ticced. “Fine. I haven’t decided if I’m telling him, but I will let you know if I do. Happy? Do we have a deal or not?”

  “About the smart comments? Definitely not. About the fake dating thing, maybe. I need to know exactly what will be required of me. And I’ll want it in a contract so you can’t renege on payments.”

  Affronted, he denied, “I would never.”

  “Still . . .”

  “Fine. I’ll draw up a contract.”

  “Detailing . . . ?”

  Rafe sighed again. “Like I said last night, my mother and sister-in-law are driving me up the wall with their matchmaking efforts. I’d like you to pretend to date me for up to the next six months. Then we’ll pretend you dump me, breaking my heart, leaving me so devastated, I’ll get at least another six months beyond that of reprieve from their hellish romantic machinations.”

  He said it so deadpan, I almost burst into laughter.

  “You want me to pretend to date you for six months and then pretend to break your heart?”

  “Yes.”

  “And just to be clear, you don’t expect sex?”

  His nostrils flared. “Of course I don’t.” Then something flickered in Rafe’s gaze. “Though, I suppose, we might be required to occasionally show affection toward each other so that people believe we’re in love.”

  Required to occasionally show affection toward each other? My lips twitched with the desperate need to laugh. “PG kissing and touching?”

  Rafe cleared his throat, apparently uncomfortable. “I suppose.”

  “Oh, I’ll need you to be perfectly clear in the contract about what it is we’re doing here.”

  “Fine, PG kissing and touching will be required.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” He glowered at me. “Anything else?”

  Laughter tickled my throat. “Hey, this is your party.”

  Rafe rolled his neck on his shoulders as if my mere presence stressed him. “Like I said last night, I’ll need you to be flexible with your schedule to accommodate our venture.”

  “While I’m happy to prioritize this job over my others, I’ll need to know our schedule beforehand so I know not to take jobs that will interfere with this. Do you have an app that keeps your schedule, appointments, social calendar?”

  “I have one for work, but not my social calendar, as you call it.”

  “Then we’ll download one we can share. Anytime you update it, I’ll get a notification on my phone and vice versa.”

  His brows pulled together. “That sounds very efficient.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “You don’t seem like a person who would be very organized.”

  I gave him a tight smile. “Just because there’s not a giant stick up my ass or because I don’t plan my life to its every inch doesn’t mean I’m not capable and organized. I have two jobs. I need to keep those straight.”

  “Fine.” He nodded coldly.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” This time his voice held an edge as he hurried to order, “Don’t say ‘fine.’ ”

  “You’re the one who keeps saying ‘fine.’ ”

  He scowled.

  I sighed. Boy, he was a barrel of laughs. So, so unbelievably beautiful to look at, but was it worth it to put up with his grim demeanor? Remember the money. “You’ll really pay me ten thousand dollars a month?”

  “For some freedom, I’d pay more.”

  The exhaustion in his eyes suddenly made me feel sympathy that I probably shouldn’t have. “I can’t believe your family would continue to do this to you if they truly knew what a strain it is on you.” Then something occurred to me. “Is it . . . is there another reason you perhaps don’t want to find a lady to settle down with?”

  “Subtle,” he said dryly. “And no, I’m not gay. If I were gay, they’d be foisting every eligible gay man on me. It’s the fact that I’m thirty-three years old and alone that bothers them. I think they’re afraid if they don’t intervene now, I’ll spend my life alone forever.”

  “And would you?”

  “Of course.”

  Curious, I leaned forward. “You don’t want a wife, a family?”

  Rafe stared right through me. “Do we have a deal or not, Ms. Meadows?”

  Okay, no personal questions. I considered him. “I won’t be required to change who I am for this role? Change my appearance, my personality?”

  He studied me in such a way that my thighs pressed tight together in reaction. His expression was irritatingly unreadable as our eyes met again. “No. Just be you. I rather like the idea of giving them what they want at the same time as what they’ll never expect.”

  My neck prickled. “What does that mean?”

  “They’re expecting a society princess or a career woman.” His lips quirked up at the corners. “I’m looking forward to seeing how they react to you.”

  Huh. My cheeks heated and an ache I didn’t like bloomed in the middle of my chest. I thought . . . yeah; I thought I’d definitely just been insulted. While it was a relief to know I didn’t have to pretend to be anything but myself, it reminded me that Rafe looked down his high and mighty nose at me. It gave me pause. “I have a few stipulations that I want written into the contract.”

  He gestured for me to go ahead.

  I straightened in my seat. “You will not mock, berate, or humiliate me in front of your friends and family. I won’t be anyone’s punch line or punching bag.”

  Outraged, he fumed, “I would never.”

  “Your niece’s party suggests otherwise. I overheard how you spoke about me to your sister-in-law.”

  Something like remorse flashed across his features before he rearranged them into an imperious mask. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “And just now? Am I supposed to ignore the fact that you want to use me to needle your family? Like I’m . . . someone who would offend them?”

  Both his eyebrows rose. “Ms. Meadows . . . I . . . that’s not what . . . that’s not how I intended it. I just meant that you’ll be a surprising choice and it’s not every day I get to surprise my family. They think I’m predictable.”

  “Oh.” That ache dissipated at his sincerity. “Okay.”

  He shifted as if he was uncomfortable, and an awkward silence fell between us. Deciding we were better off sniping at each other than enduring this discomfiting weirdness, I announced, “Good. Now, in private, I don’t expect you to be Mr. Warm and Fuzzy, but I also don’t expect to be verbally abused.”

  “What on earth . . .” he grumbled in exasperation as he sank back into his chair. “When have I verbally abused you?”

  “You called my Scottish brogue awful. That I butchered the accent.”

  “That wasn’t verbal abuse, that was honesty.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fine. I will keep my opinion on your Scottish brogue to myself.” Then he muttered something under his breath about the ridiculousness of our conversation.

  I wanted so badly to unwind him. Mess up his perfect hair, rip off a couple of buttons on his shirt and say something that would make him laugh, big and loud.

  Those kinds of thoughts should have made me run for the exit.

  Instead I summarized, “Six months, ten grand a month, fake dating, fake falling in love, fake breaking up, no sex, PG kissing and touching, and polite courteousness between us?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how can you trust me?” I shrugged. “How do you know I’m not some horrible person who will infiltrate your life and try to con millions out of you? I know your father is kind of a big deal in the business world. Aren’t millionaires usually paranoid about protecting themselves from con artists and strangers?”

  He stared at me stonily for a second and then reached across the desk to where a tablet computer lay. He tapped on it and the screen lit up. After a few more taps on the screen, he turned it and pushed it across the desk toward me.

  “Star Shine Meadows, twenty-eight years old, social security number, date of birth, born in Sacramento, California, parents Arlo and Dawn Meadows moved you around a lot, until you moved to New York City when you were twenty-one. You’ve had a plethora of jobs, mostly bartending and waitressing, until you got into line sitting and character costume acting a few years ago. You live on Staten Island.”

  I gaped at the email that detailed everything down to the high school I’d attended and the fact that I was in the drama club and graduated with a 3.8 GPA. Despite my grades, my parents had never encouraged me to attend college, and I hadn’t liked the idea that college meant deciding my career path when I was only eighteen years old. The thought made me feel claustrophobic, so I’d gone the way of my parents and just taken jobs that fed and clothed me and kept a roof over my head.

  “You had me investigated?”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “Like you said, I can’t invite someone into my life who might be shady. While your career is nonexistent, no one can say you don’t work hard, and you have no record or nefarious history that my PI could dig up. Your credit check and demeanor reveal someone who is generally unmaterialistic. My gut tells me you’re not really interested in my money beyond the ten thousand. The ten thousand a month is required for a specific purpose, am I right?”

  “I want to travel.”

  He smirked. “See. For some odd reason, I believe you. So we’re good to go.”

  Irked beyond measure that he’d investigated me, I demanded, “I want one of those.”

  He frowned. “One of what?”

  “A file. A private investigation file into you.”

  “Easy.” He scowled. “It’s called Google.”

  “Will Google tell me what your high school GPA was?”

  “4.0.”

  Of course it was.

  “Anything else?”

  “I can’t believe you had me investigated.”

  “You just said yourself I’d be a fool to invite a stranger into my life without some background information. It’s not like I did a deep dive. I just looked into the basics.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” He glowered. “Don’t say ‘fine.’ ”

  “I will say ‘fine’ if I want.” I stood up. “That’s another thing to put in the contract. No bossing me around.”

  “I doubt anyone could truly boss you around.”

  I beamed at the compliment. “Thank you.”

  Rafe shook his head, standing from his chair. “You are very odd.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment too.” I pulled open his office door before he could. “At least odd isn’t boring.”

  “No one could ever accuse you of being boring, Ms. Meadows.” I felt the heat of his stare at my back and glanced over my shoulder. My breath caught as the scent of his cologne tickled my senses. Those serious blue eyes of his held me captive.