Jasmine couldn't believe her eyes.

She did a double take when the handsome man entered, attending the lavish affair. He strode in with a confident swagger that befitted a cocky self-assured movie star and a man that knew he had what it takes to catch attention. The dark suit complemented his skin and facial hair. He stood tall and refined looking his nose down at everybody that happened to look his way.

Jasmine was clear across the reception room mingling with the very few people she was acquainted with when the entire audience grew quiet except for the soft music floating in the room. She had searched through the sea of faces trying to determine the cause of the hushed silence resonating through the crowd until she noticed what or rather who they all were staring at.

The stranger nods quietly at a few people he passes and looked around as if in search of someone. A slight frown marred his perfectly arched dark brows as he scanned the audience while making his way through the throng of bodies. For some odd reason Jasmine felt as though she knew him–recognized him from somewhere but she couldn't recall where.

The slightly broad shouldered, slightly muscular gentleman continued to advance through the crowd like he was making his way toward the bar situated across the room. With a hand resting casually across the single closed button of his suit, he continued to walk in a smooth confidence that appeared calculated. Women watched his progress in open curiosity. His dark looks were enough to stir interest in the most English of settings.

Was he a movie star? A model? Was he a previous guest that had visited the St. James hotel? Maybe she had seen him in a magazine or on a billboard.

Small talk quickly resumed but the curious stares and hushed whispers continued following him. Turning back to the couple she was speaking to about planning a charity benefit at her hotel, she found herself alone. She sighed, closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. Her mouth ached from the effort of forcing a polite smile and pretend to be in the mood to talk. Shrugging, she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waitress and found a plush velvet chair against the wall and sat down, a friendly observer to the party around her while hoping nobody would bother her.

When she first entered the small group that already arrived, Cristiano and his fiancée where present at the lavish affair which she found surprising. She was sure a man like Cristiano would be luminary on any guest list, his stature boosting any hostess's guest list.

Unless, of course, he was following her.

But it appeared too coincidental that he was present at the same places she happened to be. And when they were apart he constantly reminded her of his presence with his notes and flowers. The games he was playing were tiring and stressful. Not knowing, not being able to control anything that concerned Cristiano, skyrocketed her anxiety.

But what was so eerily disturbing was when she first entered. His attention was fixed on the door, as if he'd been waiting for her appear. His face looked as forbidding as he probably intended it to look. Jasmine just stared at him, her heart pounding in a way it hadn't done before. She tried to execute a present cool and unruffled exterior other than disbelief. But it wasn't easy. She felt weak as if someone drained her blood and replaced it with water. His eyes were boring into her and his powerful presence imprinting itself into her consciousness.

It was like he was waiting to see her reaction when she saw him and made damn sure she witnessed his expression.

She should have known better and trusted her instincts and not attended the soirée. She sensed she was going to see him soon, quickly learning of his patterns– materializing where ever she happened to be. He was definitely torturing her and making sure she knew it. Every now and then, their eyes would lock briefly and didn't acknowledge her with anything more than an occasional look. She silently thanked her lucky stars Zayn opted out of attending. Jasmine knew he would anyway. Her brother hated these things and always declared they were a waste of time.

Last night, she decided to learn more about the man who she was quickly acquainting himself as her enemy. After doing a quick search on her computer had told her Cristiano was not married yet, with no children. From everything she learned he was wealthy and successful. He owned several winery's that were in the Russo family for three generations. According to the articles she read, the winery expanded extensively under Cristiano's direction along with the shipping businesses he owned. Pictured with celebrities and important business men–there was a picture with him meeting the Queen herself. The article described the Queen's vast interest in the wine he produced and was invited as a guest to the palace.

No matter how much she wanted to ignore him, several times, she found her gaze drawn to him. The exquisite cut of the charcoal suite he wore hugged his powerful frame, but there was just something about the way he wore it instantly marked him out as someone special–someone different and she couldn't pinpoint the source of observation.

Forcing herself to relax and forget Cristiano was in the same room with her dangling his gorgeous betrothed on his arm was unavoidable. Few men and women would pay much attention to her, especially since she'd gone out of her way to remain unobtrusively in the background. However, his sole attention was focused on her, sensing his piercing stare.

It prickled her skin, sizzled it alive everywhere. It left her feeling more exposed than she'd liked. Try as she may, her appearance of completely being unaffected and comfortable nudged her back into an unbalanced state. Her hands were trembling and her heart was racing and for a moment she contemplated leaving the private dinner. She could hurry back to the hotel, finish up some work she left on her desk and avoid humankind for as long as she could.

Tuning out all the people and her fears from her mind, she raised the glass to her lips and drank more quickly than normal feeling the quick hit of the fizzy champagne simmer inside her. Why should she allow herself to be intimated by Cristiano Russo when she was strong enough to stand up to him? She was an independent woman, wasn't she? Not some little mouse.

A shadow cast over her and before she could process it. A pair of expensive black leather shoes came into her view right in front of her. The sip of Champagne stuck in Jasmine's throat, causing a moment of intense pain until her muscles relaxed enough to allow her to swallow. She was afraid to look up but involuntarily, her gaze traveled deliberately from the shoes, and slowly moved upwards.

Jasmine's teeth dig into the pink cushion of her bottom lip. It was the same man who entered earlier.

Dark brown eyes clashed with hers. A small cute smile curved the corner of his mouth as his eyes seemed to challenge her until she noticed a pin sparkling softly in the low lighting against the lapel of his suit. Made of little gold, red and white diamonds it glittered prettily against the starkness of his suit.

Jasmine inhaled loudly and a suddenly something inside her clicked, it froze her muscles and kept her immobile.

The pin was a martini glass.

Only one person would wear such a thing effortlessly and at the same time could could mean so much.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. "Oh. My. God." She whispered. "Sammy?"

He appeared so different. So manly, so muscular, so straight. His skin was make-up free and clear except for the sexy faint shadow along his jaw. The facial hair he grew out made him so approachable and handsome, he appeared gorgeous in a masculine kind of way. She could finally make out the true shape of his eyes without eyeliner, eyeshadow and fake lashes.

"Don't gawk darling, it's rude."

Jasmine closed her mouth immediately. He even sounded like a man. Gone was the sass and lisp. It replaced with a faint and very fake British accent.

"And the name is Samuel," He adjusts the lapels of his suit in slight agitation. "Kingston."

Samuel? He absolutely hated his given name.

"Samuel? Kingston?" She breathed. "Are you kidding me, right now?!?" Jasmine's eyes covertly dart to the right and left quickly. Sammy was practically blocking her view from outside interest. "I haven't seen you for two straight days!"

Sammy harrumphed exasperatedly. "Keep your knickers on! Someone might hear you!"

There it was. That sassy side of him. All he was missing was stomping his foot down like some irritated girl. He glances over his shoulder quickly remembering himself and adjusted his jacket. Again. Jasmine bet he did that action at least dozen times before showing up.

"What or who are you supposed to be? Why are you dressed like that and acting like you're straight?"

"I'm your boyfriend." He shrugs with a wicked wink. "Your very straight boyfriend." He clarifies "We getting back at Gaston aren't we? This is the perfect way. He has a girl, and you missy, now have a man. Now that you have arm candy, doesn't revenge taste sweet like chocolate doughnuts with extra sprinkles on top?"

"How'd you know he would be here?" She was baffled. "I didn't even know myself!"

"I did my homework. What can I say? I'm expendable." He replies with an effortless shrug looking proud, his megawatt smile blinding her.

It took all her strength to keep from pulling her hair. "Your idea would have been great if he were jealous Sammy! If he wanted me. Why the hell would he care I'm with you? That asshole wants to destroy me. He has no deeper, personal interest other than his revenge."

"Uh-uh." He says with a shake of his head. "That Italian hunk wants you. What do you call what happen between the two of you in the elevator? And now he has a cock blocker." He says pointing to himself. "Moi."

"This is crazy! It'll never work! He'll see right through you–."

"Girl, don't even start!" He begins cutting her off abruptly. "I haven't had my martini yet! Do you know how long it took me to practice walking in men's shoes! The things I do for my friends." Sammy mutters under his breath adjusting the lapels of his Giorgio Armani suit once again. "If she could, Coco Chanel would be cursing me from the grave."

Jasmine could have bet all her money if they were alone he would be throwing the biggest fit. She could only listen to him mutely and try to processes how his plan was going to work.

"Besides, the only thing I like about this whole operation is my last name." He says with a lisp. "And my diamond studs."

The diamonds twinkled like stars in his earlobes. If she wasn't positive he was being serious, Jasmine would have burst out laughing at the whole nonsense of it all. She couldn't even take him seriously. His personality and the way he looked did not fit the bill. This mission was going to be a disaster.

"At least drop the accent."

"Why? I think it's posh as fück." He says a matter of factly using his fake British accent. Again. "Before I came up to you, you looked like a deflated balloon. Get up outta that chair!" He orders snappily. "The first step in grabbing attention is stand tall like you gotta stick up your ass and look down upon these peasants like you were the Queen of England herself!"

Jasmine quickly scrambled to her feet and smoothed down her dress. "I don't look like a deflated balloon." She mutters glancing down self-consciously.

"Mmmmmmh Mmmmmh, you fine. Check out the Adonis at three o'clock. Come to daddy!" With pure greed in his eyes, he watches a man pass by.

Jasmine turns her head in the direction he indicated. The blonde haired gentleman strides passed them without so much of an acknowledgment.

"What do you think you're doing? I thought we're supposed to be boyfriend-girlfriend, not checking out other guys!" She admonishes quietly.

"Oh shit, right." Sammy appeared slightly embarrassed and quickly adjusted his expression to one of casual interest and holds his spine erect. "Don't look now but Gaston is on his way over. It's show time. Now, lift your chin up like some royal, snotty bitch and hang onto my arm like you belong there and follow my lead. We gonna catch us a big ass shark in our big ass net." Rubbing his hand together in anticipation.

"This is never going to work." She moaned, spotting Cristiano make a straight line towards them out of the corner of her eye. "This is ridiculous!"

Jasmine didn't know if she should laugh or cry. To prevent herself from hyperventilating she plastered a fake smile instead and looked up at Sammy as if she worshipped him, hoping and praying her act fooled Cristiano.

"This whole undercover operation better work. I haven't been practicing and preparing for the last two days for nothing!" Sammy mutters under his breath. "Do you know how much I hate body hair? I get every inch of my fine skin waxed weekly! I can feel those prickly little bastards sprouting as we speak and they're itchy as hell! Don't you dare make me regret this!" He whisper shouted.

A part of Jasmine felt guilty. Sammy was helping her out of the goodness of his heart and all she was doing was being negative and unappreciative. He really was the best friend anyone could ever ask for.

"Sammy I appreciate your sacrifice, I really do, but you didn't have to go to all this trouble. I feel bad that you have to change yourself for me."

"Too late to go back, my girl. Now let's show this prick who's the boss. He wants to play dirty, I can do dirty. Oh before I forget the rest of the plan–we're supposed to be engaged. Pucker up, he's getting close."

Jasmine stiffened, forcing her smile to stay in place. "Engaged? Engaged?" She looked down at her left hand which was ringless. "Where the hell is the ring Sammy? How long are we supposed to have known each other? What's the back story–"

"We goin' to put a ring on it just like Beyoncé sang. Remember that song where any human with a vagina blew that shit up?" A soft smile curved his plump lips. "Italian men are ruled by emotion. We're going to light a fire under his fine ass and watch the showdown. This is gonna be fabulous." Nearly hissing the last part of his sentence and rubbing his hands together sinisterly.

Oh my God, thinks Jasmine wanting to face palm herself. When did he come up with all this on such sort notice? Is this what he meant when he declared they were getting married that afternoon in the penthouse? She had dismissed his revelation as ridiculous. She didn't realize he was actually being serious.

His entire exterior was almost serene as if he had plenty of time to mentally prepare himself.

"When were you going to inform me about your fabulous plan?" She asks in subdued tone, the muscles in her face aching from keeping her lips curved upwards.

"I did, you just didn't believe–"

"Hello." Said a accented voice interrupting them.

Jasmine's gaze slid from Sammy's perfectly plastered neutral expression to meet the intense dark colored eyes of Cristiano, struggling to maintain her composure. She took in a deep breath to calm her frantic heartbeat and forced a look of pleasant surprise.

"Mr. Russo." Greeting him formally.

"Please Yasmina, we know one another at a first name basis." He amended rewarding her with a small smile. Jasmine's returning smile was frail as she mentally prepared herself for the coming introductions. Then he turns to Sammy and holds out his hand. "Cristiano Russo, I don't believe we've met before."

Jasmine lets go of his arm allowing Sammy to reach out to shake Cristiano's. "Russo, Samuel Kingston. . . " Sammy replies in his fake accent. There was something faintly arrogant in the way he spoke and it slightly relieved the pressure building inside her. This might actually work, she thought until he continued to say, ". . . Jasmine's fiancé."

It was too soon! Sammy hadn't even given her time to prepare! It took all her might not to jump in surprise feeling all the blood pool in her legs and leaving her as cold as an iceberg.

Cristiano's polite smile transformed into a thin line as he narrowed his killer-like eyes on her. Saw them widen in disbelief and then saw a flash of something in their depths which she couldn't have defined even if she tried. His powerful form cast a shadow over her like a dark omen.

Think, Jasmine, think, she chanted in her head clasping her hands behind her in a quick motion.

A ring. She needed a ring.

She looked around. Guests were beginning to file into the vast banqueting hall which had been laid with individual tables. Her fingers were twisting furiously behind her back. Then she paused and felt the red ruby ring on the middle of her finger on the right hand. It was a present from her parents for her twenty-first birthday. Yes! She thought and discreetly slips it off and transfers is to her left ring finger. Although loose, it would have to do.

Cristiano's eyes travels to her arms as his eyebrows drew together in concentration. "Engaged?" He asked in mock surprise tilting his head to the side. "Is that so?"

She took a deep breath through her nose and disentangled her arms to only come together in front other. Jasmine clasped them together making an effort to show off the ring and prove the lie was indeed legitimate. "Yes engaged." She repeated calmly.

He stares at her hands and blinks as though he couldn't believe it was true. The ring was loose. Very loose. And she couldn't do anything about it hoping he wouldn't notice.

"It seems Congratulations are in order. I can see this must have been sudden." Nodding at the ring. "You haven't had time to size it properly to fit your finger, Yasmina."

The observant bastard. He noticed.

"Samuel proposed just yesterday, as a matter of fact." Emphasizing her love and devotion by curling both her arms around Sammy's and hugging it to her chest. "I didn't have time to size it yet and as you observed the last time we met, I've lost weight." She explained, smiling sweetly, loving the way she countered his slight attack. "It's only natural for the ring to be loose."

"Of course. . . I must admit I'm a bit surprised." Scratching the corner of one fine eyebrow staring at Sammy's arm between her breasts. "You never said you were involved with someone."

He spoke as if he had the right to know personal information about her. As if they were close friends. She unconsciously squeezed Sammy's arm in response to his words and was surprised to realize Sammy was well toned with muscle. It wasn't bulky but it was there.

"You never gave me the opportunity, Cristiano." Transferring her sweet smile at Sammy and back to him. "You never inquired about my personal life. As I recall you wanted to be part of it briefly." Giving him a knowing look with the hint in her eyes and words. "I didn't realize you cared about anything else unless it suited your . . .needs."