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their menus before she offered to refill her empty glass. Annie accepted gratefully. “What kind of champagne is this? It tastes better than I expected it to.”
    “French. And expensive.” Nate frowned, as though he were pinching pennies. More likely he was irritated that his power play hadn’t turned out as he’d hoped.
    “Good.” She nearly giggled as she sipped the golden bubbles. The champagne had immediately gone to Annie’s head. She’d told Nate once that she didn’t drink because she didn’t like losing control. That was true, but not entirely. The other reason was that she was a lightweight. Add in that she hadn’t eaten since her layover in Dallas, and you had a recipe for disaster.
    She considered tearing off a hunk of the warm bread to soak up some of the alcohol, but resisted. For one thing, she didn’t need the extra carbs. Two, she wanted to be drunk. If he insisted she drink, he was going to find out how big a mistake that truly was.
    They sat silently for a few minutes after that. Annie ate her salad ferociously, stopping only long enough to drain her second glass of champagne and pour a third.
    Annie knew she should stop, but she just didn’t want to. She didn’t want to sit here, pretending to be in love with him. She couldn’t play nice while her heart was aching every time he looked at her. It was too painful. She wasn’t happy about the way things had ended between them, but she couldn’t change it. There was a good reason she’d run and stayed gone for so many years.
    And yet she had a responsibility to fulfill, so she slipped off her heel and let her bare foot roam up under the cuff of his pant leg.
    Nate jumped in his seat, his knees whacking the bottom of the table and jingling the glassware. Several people turned to look in their direction, but he quickly recovered with a nervous straightening of his tie.
    Annie ignored his pointed gaze, tipping a sip of champagne into her mouth. “You said we had to be convincing, darling.” She set the flute back onto the table with a sweet smile and stroked the firm muscles of his calves with her toes. “Besides, we both know I lose all my good sense when I’m around you.”
    * * *
    Nate looked at the woman who had occupied his thoughts for the past three years. The giggling mess across the table was not exactly as he remembered her. She’d managed to eat every morsel laid in front of her and drink at least four flutes of champagne.
    At the moment she was licking the spoon after her last bite of crème brûlée as though she might never eat again.
    He had to give her credit, though. She’d kept up her end of the bargain. Through the meal, she’d looked at him adoringly, fed him bites of her food and leaned in to kiss him on more than one occasion. Anyone watching their exchange would think they were blissfully in love.
    The truth was that she was blissfully drunk. A quick glance under the table revealed his biggest fear— four-inch stilettos. Did the woman not own any sensible shoes? There was no way she would be able to walk out of this restaurant with any dignity at all.
    Nate quickly surveyed the room. Their dinner had run quite late and most people had cleared out for the evening. It was a Thursday, a big night at some places in Vegas for senior bingo, but that wasn’t the crowd he drew at the Sapphire. If she was determined to embarrass him, she’d chosen the wrong day.
    He quickly scribbled his information onto the restaurant tab, tipping Renee heavily. Then he turned back to Annie with a heavy sigh. “Are you finished?”
    She reluctantly put her spoon back into the empty ramekin. “I guess so. That is, if I can manage to stand up.”
    Nate moved quickly, coming around to help her. She stood, probably too fast, and wobbled for a second before gripping his outstretched arm for dear life.
    “Why don’t you—?”
    “No,” she insisted, her brow drawn in drunken concentration. “I can do this.” She took a few unsteady