There is no way I've heard him correctly. He is here as I am? Does he mean he is also running from a betrothal he cannot abide? The news of his impending engagement was irrefutable. But...

"Well, not exactly as you are." He seems nervous, talking to fill the space. "I have connections, surely, and wealth of my own." He runs a hand through his tousled hair and his shirt falls away from his shoulder, exposing a deep scar that mars his pristine skin.

He absent-mindedly traces it as he continues. I don't dare breathe lest I break his trance.

"I do not pretend my situation is as dire as your own, Cata—Señora Juárez—"

"You may call me Catalina." The fire in his eyes worries me so I add, "As we are pretending to be married, and I do not want my proper name exposed to my family." Yes, that sounded believable.

"Of course." His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and then begins to pace the small space of the sleeper car. "Well, I do not pretend my situation is as dire as your own, my dear Catalina, but my father has arranged a betrothal, as I'm sure you are aware. And neither she nor I can follow through with it. Our parents made the match completely disregarding our own desires."

"They wanted to gain something from each other."

"To increase their own power in some way, surely, yes. But Eva has her own love and her own plans. I cannot do that to her."

"And what about you? Why couldn't you abide it?" My teeth catch my bottom lip and my toes tap inside my shoe.

Silence surrounds us and I dig my fingers into my dress, trying to keep myself calm. Finally, he speaks, low and silky. "I could never force her to marry someone she doesn't love."

I wonder if there's an unspoken need to himself feel loved, but that doesn't feel like something I can say to someone I've just met. I search and search for something to say that is appropriate and conveys my emotions.

"You really care about her," is what I come up with.

I cannot believe that slipped out but I do my best to not let my shock show on my face.

"I do not know that I care about her more than anyone else. In truth, I do not know her at all." He stops in the middle of the floor and paces one, two steps toward me. "I know her less than I know you, Catalina. But we knew enough to understand we should not marry only for the sake of our parents. Additionally," he pauses as if to consider my trustworthiness, eyes raking across my face. "I do not wish to marry for my father's gain. I wish only to wed for the benefit of my future wife, if she should ever materialize."

His voice drops to a whisper and his eyes find my soul. "I wish to marry for love."

As do I. His eyes continue to carry me with their intensity but I don't say anything, just letting what he said absorb into my skin.

An idea begins to form in my brain so clearly I cannot ignore it. "But if marriage for love should not be possible... Should you remain single or is there a particular woman you have in mind?"

His pause tells me the next words will be a lie. "There is no such woman," he breathes finally. "Though perhaps I will find her one day."

I must keep my disappointment off my face, scrambling for an answer.

"Perhaps you will find her in Barcelona," I say suddenly, hoping and praying my dejection is not written all over my features as it has just dripped off my tongue.

"Perhaps."

I think he might close the distance and sit near me on the bed, but he does not move. He simply stares at me, jaw tensing and eyes investigating me like he's searching for any sign of a lie.

Well, if that's what he's doing, he won't find it here. I lift my chin and then stand to face him.

"Why do you study me?"

"I cannot figure you out. First, you run from a bad betrothal. That I understand." His chuckle is mirthless and forced. "Then you pretend to be married to me. I understand, you were in a tough spot and I happened to be there."

I nod, resuming my place on the bed, sinking into the lavish mattress. "So what can't you figure out?" I sit on my hands to keep them from reaching out to him.

"What I can't figure out," he clears his throat to stop it cracking, "is why you left this room, alone, in the middle of the night."

"I didn't want to inconvenience you any further, Sir. My Lord."

"You pretended to be my wife. That wasn't an inconvenience? But asking me to escort you in a dark, isolated train was too far?" Even in the darkness I can see a smirk pull at his lips.

"I wasn't thinking clearly. I was tired."

"And you are tired still?" At this point he must realize what I've known all along. "Did you need me to procure something for you? Is that the problem? He interrupted you before you finished?"

A small laugh pushes through my pursed lips. "I'll be fine. I think the fear knocked the hunger out of me."

He turns so I can no longer see his face. "Would you like me to call for something?"

"I think I'll wait for morning. Thank you." I can't figure out what is going on with me, but my stomach is twisting up and there's no way I'll be able to eat through it.

"Of course. If you need anything else, please wake me."

"Thank you," I shudder, "I will."

He turns to face me, watching as I slip under the blankets and turn to face him. Then he sits on the floor and risks a sidelong glance at his make-shift bed. I can't see his eyes but I can tell he has seen more comfortable sleeping arrangements. He is a duke.

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

His breath hitches in the growing darkness. His outline is still seated, but no answer comes for a beat, the wildlife outdoors our only company.

"I wanted you to be comfortable," he says finally. "You seem like the type of lady who is used to much more comfortable sleeping arrangements than this one."

A laugh leaves me involuntarily "Do not mistake me, sir. But you seem like such a man yourself."

His chuckle is low and deep. "You are not mistaken. I admit sleep comes briefly here. But it is only for one night."

"Why?"

I can't see, but I'm almost certain his face scrunches as he says, "What do you mean by that? I merely hope they will have fixed the track in order to resume our journey in the morning. I believe we should only be here one night."

"I mean, I know I threw myself into this position, pretending to be married to you. So why are you sleeping on the floor and letting me rest here, keeping me protected in your car instead of having me sent off?"

"Oh, that's simple. I'd like your father to pay me handsomely for your safe return," he deadpans.

"Hilarious," I snipe back, shoving myself further back on the bed. "Fine. Don't answer me. You don't owe me anything, sir. And I'm grateful for your help so far. I'll be out of your way as soon as this train makes a stop."

I turn away from him in a huff, intending to provide evidence of my distaste for his joke.

"I see something of my mother in you," he says finally. "My deepest regret is having not been there when she found herself among unfavorable men."

"I'm sorry. That never should have happened to either of you," I mumble into the sheets, turning to face him and pressing myself back against the wall of the car. "Come join me."

"I cannot," his strained voice replies.

"If you do not, I will move myself to the floor and you will be forced to choose between being next to me and sleeping on the bed."

"I cannot," he replies again, more firmly this time, still seated near his suitcase.

"As you wish." I move the blanket away from my body and allow my hem to raise as I step out of bed, the dim light of the moon returning as if purposefully aiding my efforts.

A low groan erupts from his lips and in no time at all, his hand is on my knee. "Fine. If you promise to stay under there and keep your hands to yourself, I'll lay right here." His fingers brush the edge of the bed.

"No promises," I shrug. "My sister always said I was a real mover in my sleep."

He groans again and his hand slides down his face. "Woman, what are you trying to do to me?"

"Return you to your father safe and sound for a sizeable reward," I joke. "So that I shall have my own money and not require my dowry."

"Very smart " he says, returning to his usual smirk. "Wouldn't want my father having to search for me himself."

"Of course not. That would be very undignified."

"And you would be free of your own meddlesome father."

My laugh escapes in bitter tendrils, drying up in the air. "I suppose I would not be complaining about that."

A beat passes as I settle into the bed and he presses the covers over me and down onto the mattress. He looks at it for a second, hands balling into fists, and then he pulls himself up onto the bed and rests on top of the blankets, refusing to rest his head on the pillow I've been using.

He looks acutely uncomfortable, staring up at the wood panelling that lines the interior of the coach.

"So now you know all of my secrets. What are you going to do with me?"

His breath catches in his throat and he turns to face me. "I do not know nearly enough of your secrets, Catalina."

I think I imagine him adding, "I will do anything you wish," as I drift off to sleep. 

~ * ~ Author's Note ~ * ~ 

Looking for more fun, entertaining romance? Fake dating in a Wattpad book, anyone? You like that, right? Why not check out itsmeimthevampire 's story "Idiots to Lovers"? 

Two strangers pretend to be a couple to win a dumb bet. The wager: they must enroll in couples therapy and fool their counselor.