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“It’s beautiful,” I say as we walk toward it. I’ve never been in a house as large or luxurious as this and I’ve been in a lot of nice houses for work. I want to see it all, but I really want to see the closets.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says with a warm smile. “Win me five Stoney Cups and I’ll buy you one.”
“If anyone can do it, Sebastian can,” I say as I slide my hand into his. He gives my hand a little squeeze of gratitude.
“Congratulations on the engagement,” Van Morgan says as he opens the door and lets us in. “I admit, I was quite surprised to hear the news.”
“Not as surprised as I was,” I say with a laugh.
He’s watching us carefully as we linger in the giant living room. Van Morgan is an intimidating man, but so far, I’m playing it cool.
I hold onto Sebastian’s big hard bicep as I look around the room. “I love that painting.”
“It’s a Garchannio,” he says. I nod like I know who that is. I’ve never heard that name before in my entire life.
“He’s so talented,” Sebastian says as he looks at the painting. “He’s my favorite artist.”
“She,” Van Morgan corrects. “Elia Garchannio.”
“Oh right,” Sebastian quickly says with a shake of his head. “For a second I thought it was Steve Garchannio. My mistake.”
I look up at him, trying not to laugh.
“Steve?” I whisper as Van Morgan continues into the dining room.
We both start giggling. “He’s very famous. You should check him out.”
Van Morgan continues the tour, showing us extravagant art pieces and paintings that probably should be in a museum, and all of his excessive wealth.
We head downstairs into the wine cellar next. My jaw drops when I see how many bottles he has. His supply could last a hundred lifetimes.
“Next pandemic, I’m quarantining here,” Sebastian says with a laugh. “This place is unreal.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Van Morgan says with a smile. “And you’re welcome anytime.”
“Is there a Mrs. Van Morgan?” I casually ask. I’m wondering what the deal with this guy is. He’s good-looking and appears to be in his early fifties if I had to guess. With his full head of hair and overflowing bank account, he must be pushing women away non-stop.
“Not as of yet,” he says without elaborating any further. “Check out this bottle. It’s from 1892. I bought it at an auction from a castle in Scotland. It’s a nice collector’s item, but I doubt it tastes any better than a ten-dollar bottle from the gas station down the street.”
Sebastian takes the bottle and examines the faded label while I examine him. He’s so freaking hot. I wish I could go back in time and tell my ten-year-old self that I’m on a date with Sebastian. She’d be so freaking stoked.
I’ve always loved his face—the sharp masculine curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the way his bright blue eyes always seem to pop out, especially when he’s tanned. I’ve never been able to look at him like this. To just stare shamelessly. I’ve always had to be content with quick glances and stolen looks.
But he’s mine for tonight. I can look all I want.
I suddenly remember that we’re not alone. My eyes dart to Van Morgan. He’s watching us like he’s trying to decipher if this is all a charade.
I smile warmly at him and then take Sebastian’s arm. I stand on my toes and kiss my fake fiancé’s cheek for the show and because I have to get as many kisses in as I can before the night is over.
“You’ll love the next room, Sebastian,” Van Morgan says as he puts the old bottle back. “It’s my office.”
My heart starts pounding as we exit the wine cellar. Could this be it? Sebastian looks just as nervous.
“So, Sebastian said you met in college?” Van Morgan says as we walk. He keeps his eyes locked on me as my stomach drops. Did he? He never told me anything about a made-up college story.
Sebastian discreetly squeezes my hand. I’m not sure if that means go with it, or if it means it’s a trap.
I decide to stick with the truth.
