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moaned his happiness and pushed his ear deeper into Jonas’s hand. He nearly lost his grip on the Frisbee but managed to keep it from falling from his jaws. It was quite distracting.

“Together?” Did her voice have a faintly hysterical shriek to it?

“Well, yeah, but the cottages are quite large. No one will know if I take the couch. Except maybe you, eh, Chance?”

Aside from the dog, she would know. And after what happened tonight, it just seemed like a really lousy idea to share close quarters with him while they were pretending for his family.

That was her lesson from tonight. She sucked at pretending.

“Maybe we could tell them I have a belief system that precludes sharing accommodations with you?” she suggested.

He looked skeptical.

“I don’t look like that kind of girl? I mean, it needn’t be overt. I wouldn’t carry a hymnal. Or start preaching at the campfire. A small gold cross around my neck. An occasional softly murmured, praise be.”

For somebody who sucked at pretending, Krissy realized she was getting into this.

Probably because it was making Jonas laugh. It was an absolute weakness to enjoy making him laugh so much. Which was why they had to call it quits on the dress rehearsals.

“I actually think,” Jonas said, cocking his head at her and standing up, though his hand still rested on Chance’s head, “you’ve shown yourself to be more the warrior type. Plus, uh, I’m not sure my sister would ever be convinced that I would go for a Goody Two-shoes kind of gal.”

“I am a Goody Two-shoes kind of gal!”

“Not really,” he said softly.

“Joan of Arc was a warrior and a girl of strong conviction. You better believe she wasn’t sharing a cottage with her betrothed.”

“Did she have a betrothed?” That gorgeous, sexy smile tickled his lips. “So you’re thinking of going in costume, now?”

“Thinking of it,” she said solemnly. “We could shop for a sword instead of a ring.”

“Chain mail should do the trick if we end up sharing a cottage,” he said thoughtfully, his smile deepening wickedly. So he knew sharing a cottage was going to be a challenge for both of them! But it seemed to be one he was anticipating with some delight.

She snapped her finger and thumb together. “Okay, forget Joan.”

“As hard as that will be,” he said, his tone solemn, but still smiling.

“This is better, and more practical. I’ll get a call that there’s been some sort of emergency. I’ll have to leave.”

“Maybe we should just play it by ear,” he said. “Come prepared for the weekend, and if you’re uncomfortable, we’ll pull the plug. But I actually think you’ll like it.”

That was the problem. She liked playing Cinderella to his Prince Charming just a little too much.

“Chance will love it out there.” He took his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the dog mooning at him adoringly.

Argh! Get to her through the dog!

“And there’s one other thing, since you mentioned it. We have to get you a ring.”

“No sword?” Krissy said as lightly as she could to cover up what a perfectly awful outing shopping for a ring with him would be. She could unfortunately picture Jonas slipping a ring on her finger for this make-believe engagement.

“No sword,” he said firmly.

“Oh, sure, then. A ring. Pick whatever you like.”

He cocked his head at her. “You aren’t a jewelry person at all, are you?”

“Not really.”

“The ring should be sized.”

How many rings had he bought for people? Was it his favorite bauble to give?

“I mean nothing would alert to a fake engagement like a ring falling off your finger. Do you want to just go pick one soon? Then it will be sized in time for the reunion?”

“I’ll check my calendar,” she said haughtily.

“Krissy…” He took a step toward her. She was aware how much she had to tilt her head to look at him. She was aware of the jolt right through to her heart when she looked at his lips, when she remembered the intoxicating, weak-to-the-bone sensation of taking them with her own.

“Yes?” Still with the haughty tone.

“You had fun, didn’t you?”

The question took her off guard. For some reason, she thought of her aunt’s Match Made in Heaven questionnaire.

What do you do for fun?

There was something ever so faintly imploring in Jonas’s tone. He liked having fun. He wanted her to have fun.

Was it so evident she was not really a having-fun kind of person?

“Yes,” she said, dropping the you-can’t-touch-me veneer, and admitting the truth to herself. And to him. “Yes, I had fun.”

She remembered her aunt’s Nothing naughty, please instruction. Maybe that kiss had been the most fun of all, even though it was the playing-with-fire piece. Or maybe it was so much fun because it was thrilling, because it was playing with fire.

Even now, this simple thing, bantering back and forth with him, was fun.

“Can’t we just do that?” he asked, his voice low, utterly charming in its beseeching tone. “Can’t we just have fun?”

It was an enchantment. Wearing her wonderful dress to the impromptu picnic in Central Park had made her feel like she was Cinderella at the ball.

And Jonas was suggesting that the clock had not struck midnight, and that she didn’t have to lose the glass slipper just yet.

He was right. It had been fun. The whole thing was just fun. She had been invited to take part in some good old family high jinks. Jonas wanted to win a bet, and he planned to have fun doing it. No one was going to get hurt. His deep-seated love for his sister was obvious.

Krissy was along for the ride. A roller-coaster ride, obviously, with lots of stomach dropping dips, long climbs of anticipation, tight, hang-on-for-dear-life twists and turns.

For once in her life, Krissy didn’t have to be so cautious. Or know the final result. Or plan everything out to a conclusion that would bring her a sense of safety and security. She just had to buckle up and hang on for

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