They were introduced to dozens of people. Some of them Mel found interesting and attractive, others slick and suspicious. She spent her days following the routine of a well-to-do woman with time and money on her hands.

And her nights with Sebastian.

She tried not to concern herself with her heart. She had a job to do, and if she’d fallen in love doing it, that was her problem to solve.

She knew he cared for her, just as she knew he desired her. It was a worry that he seemed so fond of the woman she pretended to be—a woman she would cease to be as soon as the job was over.

Not quite like my Mel. My Mel, he had said. There was hope in that, and she wasn’t above clinging to it.

And as much as she wished the case were closed and justice served, she began to dread the day when they would go home, no longer married by design.

Whatever her personal needs and private hopes, she couldn’t allow herself to put them ahead of what they were trying to do.

Following a suggestion of Linda’s, Mel agreed to give a party. After all, she was supposed to be an enthusiastic entertainer, a whiz of a homemaker and a society gem.

As she struggled into her little black dress, she prayed she wouldn’t make some telltale faux pas that showed her up as a phony.

“Damnation,” she swore as Sebastian strolled into the bedroom.

“Problem, darling?”

“Zipper’s stuck.” She was half in and half out of the dress, flushed, harried, and mad as a cat. He was sorely tempted to help her the rest of the way out of it, rather than in.

He gave the zipper a flick that sent it up to its home, halfway up her back. “All done. You’re wearing the tourmaline,” he said, reaching over her shoulder to touch the stone between her breasts.

“Morgana said it was good for stress. I need all the help I can get.” Turning, she slipped regretfully into the heels, which brought them eye-to-eye. “It’s stupid, but I’m really nervous. The only kind of parties I’ve ever given involved pizza and beer. Did you see all that stuff downstairs?”

“Yes, and I also saw the caterers who will take care of it.”

“But I’m, like, the hostess. I’m supposed to know what to do.”

“No, you’re supposed to tell other people what to do, then take all the credit.”

She smiled a little. “That’s not so bad. It’s just that something’s got to happen soon. I’ll go out of my mind if it doesn’t. Linda keeps making cryptic remarks about being able to help, but I feel like I’ve been spinning wheels for the last week.”

“Patience. We take the next step tonight.”