“Calm down and try the toro,” I grin, pushing the plate over to him. “And tell me about this mysterious proposition of yours that absolutely doesn’t involve your micro-penis.”

“For the last time, I don’t have—” Dash stops himself. “Are you trying to wind me up?”

“What gave me away?” I grin.

I think for a moment he’s about to get mad, but instead, he lets out a long, low chuckle that sends goosebumps racing down my spine. “Zelda’s going to have a field day with you.”

“Who’s Zelda?”

“My grandmother,” Dash replies, taking another gulp of sake. “She cut off my trust fund.”

“Is this the part where I cue up the tiny violin?” I smirk, then pause. “Wait, unless it means you can’t pay for lunch.” I look around the table in horror, until Dash shakes his head.

“Lunch is covered. But I need that trust back. Zelda’s holding it hostage until I prove I’m all grown up, and settling down with a serious girlfriend… So I might have told a little white lie and claimed that I already had one.” Dash admits with a wince. “That’s where you come in. I was thinking you could pretend to be her.”

“Be who?” I ask, confused.

“My girlfriend.”

Now it’s my turn to snort my sake. “You have got to be kidding me!” I exclaim.

“It wouldn’t be for long,” Dash says quickly. His voice takes on a charming, seductive note. “She’s hosting this gala for the weekend in Palm Beach. We drop by, convince her I’m a stable, productive member of society, get my trust released, problem solved.”

“It’ll take a lot longer than that to make anyone think you’re stable,” I mutter.

Dash reaches across the table and captures my hand. “Come on,” he says, turning that mega-watt charm full force at me. “Say ‘yes’. We’ll have a blast together…”

His thumb absently strokes my palm, and just like that, all the nerve endings in my body come firing to life. His gaze turns smoky, holding my eyes. “So, we got off on the wrong foot,” he says, voice dropping an octave. “Give me another chance. I can be very, very fun once you get to know me…”

He caresses my palm again, and my heart beats faster in my chest. The room seems to melt away, leaving just the two of us, and Dash’s blue eyes, and the feel of his thumb rubbing back and forth, back and—

“Salmon sashimi.” The waiter brings my food, breaking the moment.

I snatch my hand away, sucking in a breath of air.

What the hell just happened?

Phineas Dashford the Fourth, that’s what.

“Oh, you’re good,” I say, almost impressed by his seduction. “It’s no wonder you have half the city swooning for you. So why do you need my help? Get one of your numerous girlfriends to play house.”

Dash gives a half-smile, like, ‘too bad.’ “Because they might get the wrong idea,” he admits, pushing a hand through his hair.