After the appropriate amount of time has been spent on oohing and ahhing over my rock, Marjorie Martinelli decides to start grilling me. “So, just howexactlydid you two end up falling for each other?” Marjorie grills me.

I open my mouth, then close it. I’m not quite sure how to answer, especially since Saint didn’t prep me for that particular question. “Saint, you tell them,” I say quickly, while knowing there’s no way he’s going to be able to spin lying about being a cop as the moment when I madly fell in love with him.

A look of slight panic flashes across Saint’s face. “No, babe,youtell them,” he responds when he’s unable to think up an answer. He clearly didn’t think through this fake engagement party plan very well…

My jaw drops. How the heck am I going to make this convincing? I clear my throat. “Um, okay,fluffy bunnykins, let me think…”

And I smile secretly at Saint’s expression when he hears me call him the pet name I’ve just made up for him.

“Sooo, it really started at that funeral. Remember, um, when Saint jumped into the pool and killed that guy?”

“Of course, we all remember,” Marjorie nods.

“Well, how could I not fall for him after watching him defend my honor in what can only be described as aDynasty-style Alexis Colby versus Krystle Carrington total bitch fight?”

Majorie’s crony, Vera Vecchiarelli, gives me a dubious look. “Really…?”

“Well, when he climbed out of the pool, he looked just like a, um, drowned bunny. And that was the moment I completely and utterly fell for him.”

“Because he looked like a drowned bunny?” Marjorie asks in a confused tone.

I nod manically. “Because he looked like avery cutedrowned bunny.”

“I think you mean he looked like a drowned rat,” Vera interrupts.

I give her a hard look. “No,” I say slowly, “I mean he looked like a drowned bunny.” Perhaps I might have had a little too much to drink by this stage, but how else am I supposed to get through this fake party for my fake engagement?

Marjorie and Vera clearly aren’t convinced at my pathetic attempt at lying. Marjorie clears her throat. “Dear, are you sure that this engagement is rea?—”

Oh God, we’re going to be found out! “Like this!” I announce, cutting off her sentence as I shove Saint so hard that he loses his balance and plunges headfirst into the pool.

There’s a huge splash as he crashes into the water.

And his spluttering and cursing are the only things I hear in the momentary silence.

Then people gasp and exclaim out aloud all around me.

And although I can practically feel Saint’s scowl slicing into me, I can’t help but smile to myself about my quick thinking.

He clambers to the side and eventually hauls himself out, his expensive suit ruined, and his hair plastered to his face.

“See?” I say with mock enthusiasm, clapping my hands together. “Isn’t he just adorable when he resembles a drowned bunny?”

Marjorie gives me an uncertain nod, while Vera gives an awkward laugh.

And deciding I need to get away from their inquisition before they figure out I’m lying, I hurry away to grab another drink.

“What the hell was that, Emerald?” Saint squelches up behind me at the bar, dripping water all over the patio stones.

I blink slowly. “I had to make it believable, and I’ve got, er, standards, so I wouldn’t just fall for a guy unless there was something super special about him.”

“I’m yourfakefiancé,” he emphasizes.

“Um, so?”

“So, lower your goddamn standards,” he growls.

Christian approaches. “Did I hear Emerald call you fluffy bunnykins?” He laughs out loud. “Why does she call you that?”