“It’s beautiful,” Liam said. “I’ll try it on.”

“I’ll get a pajama pant and shoes,” Deepa said.

“I didn’t bring you here to buy an expensive sherwani for a ten-minute civil ceremony,” Daisy said as they walked over to the changing room. “It was more for Layla and her relatives to see you so they could spread gossip about our engagement. You can just rent a tux.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “It’s my fake wedding. I want to dress how I want to dress.”

Five minutes later, Liam was out and preening in front of the mirror. “How do I look? Amazing, right? Why do men always wear tuxes when they could wear something like this?” He waved Layla over. “Take a picture of us. Let’s see how we look together. We can use it for our fake dating portfolio.”

Daisy stood stiffly beside Liam for the picture, trying to resist the urge to run a hand over the hard biceps bulging beneath soft embroidered silk. With an exasperated grumble, Liam wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side. He was warm and solid, his arm firm around her waist. Something inside her loosened and sighed.

“Don’t you look like the perfect fake couple.” Layla took the phone Liam offered. “I’ll try to take a picture before Liam runs away.” She managed to snap a few shots and glare at the same time.

“Don’t forget your sword.” Deepa returned with a curved thirty-five-inch sword in a decorated gold and red velvet scabbard, the handle of which depicted a golden leopard mid-roar. “This sword signifies the true glory of a king of the jungle who is brave, courageous, fearless, and protective of his family.”

Liam grinned. “It’s perfect.”

“She’s laying it on pretty thick,” Daisy whispered to Layla.

“It’s because she knew she had a sale the minute she said ‘sword.’” Layla shook her head in exasperation. “The same thing happened when I came here with Sam to try on shoes. He already had a wedding outfit, and yet the moment she said ‘sword,’ another five hundred dollars was gone. What is it with men and weapons?”

“The scabbard is ornamentally decorated to demonstrate masculine vigor.” Deepa pulled the sword from the sheath. “As you can see, the blade is beautifully etched with intricate designs.”

Liam took the blade, hefting it as if he were an expert swordsman. “It’s lighter than it looks.”

A sly smile spread across Deepa’s face. Daisy could almost hear the cash register ring. “If you want something larger and more substantial, I have just the thing.”

Liam’s breath hitched. “You have a bigger sword?”

Before Daisy could protest, Deepa was heading to the storeroom, leaving Liam armed and dangerous.

“En garde!” He took up a fencing position, knees bent, legs apart, sword tip resting at the nearest mannequin’s throat.

“Oh my God.” Daisy covered her burning face with her hand. “Kill me now.”

Layla shook her head. “It’s not you he’s planning to kill.”

Daisy looked up in time to see Liam attack the mannequin, slashing at its clothes with the edge of his blade. He danced around, thrusting and slicing from all sides, muttering to himself as if the mannequin were alive.

“You dare to look at my lady? Cower before me, you dog, before I slit your throat.”

“What’s going on here?” Layla’s fiancé, Sam, joined them in the aisle. Tall, dark, and deadly handsome, he and Daisy had butted heads when they’d first met, but he’d won her over with his love for Layla and the respect he’d shown their family.

“That’s Daisy’s—”

“On the left!” Sam shouted. “He’s got a knife.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Daisy glared at Sam. “Liam. Stop. What are you doing?”

“He insulted your honor.” Liam lifted the sword high and sliced down in a long arc. The mannequin crashed to the ground, its head rolling across the floor and under a rack of clothes.

“Yes!” Sam held up his hand and Liam gave him a high five with a loud slap.

Laughter bubbled up in Daisy’s throat. She’d never seen this side of Liam. Although part of her was cringing, another part was drawn to his delight.

“Sam, this is Daisy’s fake fiancé, Liam Murphy.” Clearly unimpressed, Layla scowled. “Liam, this miscreant is my real fiancé, Sam Mehta.”

“You won’t be fake for long.” Sam shook Liam’s hand. “Once you’re part of the Patel family, they don’t let you go, and I mean that in the best possible way.”

“Liam was my brother’s best friend. He’s got some idea about the Patel charm.” Daisy tugged Liam away when she saw Deepa coming, but she was too late. Liam had seen her, too.

“Now that’s a sword!”

“The larger one is more effective against unarmed foes.” Ever the consummate salesperson, Deepa neatly stepped over the fallen mannequin and handed Liam the sword.

Liam drew the blade from its pearl-encrusted sheath and inspected the design. “I’ll take it.”

“It’s almost as long as my sword.” Sam said smugly.

“Seriously? Now you’re comparing sword lengths.” Layla grabbed Sam’s arm. “You do not need a new sword-wielding best friend. Come and try on your shoes.”

Daisy followed Liam to the cash register. “This is crazy. First of all, you didn’t follow the plan. Second, you don’t just walk into a store and buy a sherwani. You need to research them first. You have no idea what it’s worth or how much it might cost at another store, and you didn’t ask the price. That’s like shouting from the rooftops that you have money to burn, and I can guarantee Deepa will be more than happy to accommodate you.”