I’m so tempted to roll my eyes, but I keep myself in check. “You don’t like thinking of me alone anywhere.” I grab hold of his hand—ignoring the electricity that sparks between us when our skin touches—and we start walking toward his car. “You shouldn’t worry so much.”

He lets me lead him. “It sounds like you need someone to worry about you.”

“I can take care of myself.” I send him an irritable look, but it fades when I see the way he’s smiling at me.

“I like this independent woman thing you’ve got going on, but it’s okay to let someone take care of you every once in a while.” His smile grows. “You should give it a try sometime.”

“With you?” I raise my brows, trying to ignore the way my heart beats rapidly against my chest, or the hot flush that sweeps over my skin.

“Maybe.” He winks, actually winks as he lets go of my hand and opens the passenger-side door for me. I climb inside the expensive sports car, the leather-tinged-with-Rhett scent enveloping me the moment he shuts the door.

It takes him maybe ten seconds to get into the car, but I’m already irritated by then. Saying I should let him take care of me, who the hell does he think he is? I refuse to depend on anyone but myself. I am the key to my own destiny, and I will never forget it.

“I hope you like Italian,” he says as he starts the car with a push of a button, something I’ve never seen before. The engine purrs, he revs the car with a steady push of the gas pedal and then we’re off, peeling down the street with a squeal of brakes, Rhett shifting the car into gear smoothly, like some sort of goddamn professional.

I’ll look back on this night later and remember this is the moment I realize I’m in way over my head.

Il Gabbiano is the finest Italian restaurant in town—at least, according to the sign outside the building, it is. Rhett opens my car door for me, taking my hand as we walk through the parking lot, his fingers warm and sure as they tuck around mine. I cling to him, his solid heat drawing me in, making me want to do and say crazy things. Instead, I focus on my upcoming performance, praying I’m wearing the right thing, scared I’m going to do something stupid to mess this up.

Being with him makes me feel insecure. Is it because I’m an imposter? Am I scared of getting caught?

Yes. A thousand times yes.

“Jensen.”

His sexy deep voice knocks me from my worrying thoughts. “What?” My head snaps up to find he’s watching me carefully. So carefully, I’m almost scared he can read my thoughts.

“Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” He squeezes my hand as we approach the restaurant, slowing his pace so I have no choice but to stop with him.

My cheeks go hot. I’m not used to the constant compliments. They make me uncomfortable, especially when I remember what I’m doing. “Yes, you did. But thank you again.”

He also told me I looked beautiful on the drive over, when I caught him staring at me while we waited at an intersection for the light to turn green. He’d seemed entranced with me, and let me tell you, that’s heady stuff. No one ever seems to care about me. I just…move through life without affecting anyone.

With Rhett, it feels like he actually wants to be a part of my life. That he’s so grateful I’m here with him. That should make me feel strong, right? Like he’s giving me all the power and eventually, I can use it against him.

But I don’t feel strong. His words and actions make me unsure. Make me doubt I’m doing the right thing, when I’ve never wavered from my purpose before.

I don’t like it.

“You seem nervous.” With his other hand, he pushes wayward tendrils of hair away from my cheek, his fingers a lingering caress on my skin. I can’t stop the shiver that takes over me and he feels it, I know he can. Without a word, he leans in and I tilt my head back, his mouth hovering above mine. Right there in front of the restaurant where everyone can see us, he kisses me. The barest brush of lips, his kiss is the lightest touch that somehow grabs hold of my heart and strangles it until I feel like I can’t breathe.

“This isn’t a test,” he murmurs after he lifts his lips away from mine.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you tense or nervous. I don’t want anything from you that you can’t give.” There he goes again, seemingly reading my mind. “I just want to get to know you better.” He taps the tip of my nose with his index finger. “A lot better.”

His words throw me. I’ve always been someone’s secret. My mother’s. The boys I’ve been with…no one wants to admit they know me. Here’s Rhett kissing me in front of a restaurant, holding my hand like we’re a real couple, saying such sweet things that should make me wary but instead his words make me want to melt.

And I can’t melt. I need to remain ice-cold. No feelings, no emotions. That way, no one can hurt me.

“Why me?” I blurt, snagging my hand out of his so I can step away from him. I need the distance. I know this isn’t the best spot to have this discussion, but I’m seized with the sudden urge to know exactly why he’s acting this way.

“Now I have to ask you what you mean.” He scratches the side of his head, looking adorably confused.

“We see each other a couple of times and now you’re taking me to dinner and it feels like there are all these expectations—” Stop talking, stop talking! “—and I don’t know why you chose me.”

“I’m drawn to you. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”