by Maisey Yates
He was a legendary lover. According to the book, women had risked all just to be with him. To feel his touch. To be in his bed. She could almost understand.
He extended his hand, traced the line of her jaw, to her chin with his index finger. “Kiss me, Julia.”
“What if I don’t want to?” she asked. “I don’t even like you.”
A smile curved his lips. “You don’t have to like someone to want them.”
“I do.”
“Think about all the times I’ve messed with your plans, all the times my new computer system outsold your new computer system. And think about how badly you wanted to slap my face. Think of me interrupting your presentation. Now I want you to channel all that into your kiss. Do you understand?”
She was trembling. Honest to goodness, her lips were trembling. And her heart was about to burst through her chest.
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “Think of how angry I make you. And then kiss me like it’s my punishment.” He let his finger drift to her bottom lip, traced the outline of her mouth.
His words shivered through her body, a spark that crackled along her veins. And he made her forget that she’d just tripped all over him on the dance floor. He made her forget about kisses that had hurt and bruised. He made her forget she was ridiculously inexperienced for a woman her age. He made her forget everything but the desire to follow his instructions exactly.
And he even made it feel like it was her idea.
Because she wanted it. Wanted this. How had he made her want it? She didn’t even care.
The entire ruse they were engaged in depended on the fact that the heat of passion that came from hate could easily be ignited into attraction. And right now, it felt so very true.
She put her hand on the back of his neck, her palm tingling as it came into contact with his skin. It had been a long time since she’d kissed anyone. She just hoped she remembered how it went.
Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his and realized it didn’t matter if she remembered how to kiss, because this wasn’t anything like the other kisses she’d experienced.
She did think of him interrupting her presentation. Of the times he’d sent her asinine “memos” designed to taunt her with his success. And that, combined with the press of his lips against hers, built a fire in her blood that she was afraid might burn out of control.
She clung to him, her fingers laced through his hair, her hold firm. He braced himself, one hand on the wall behind him, his other arm moving to wrap tightly around her waist, pulling her up against his hard, muscular body.
He angled his head, deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over hers. There was no way a photographer could see that. He was getting way too into character.
But she found she didn’t much care. Especially when she dipped her tongue into his mouth, tasted him, then bit down hard on his bottom lip. His punishment, as requested.
She most especially didn’t care when that move brought on a deep, feral growl that rumbled through his body, made his kiss intensify.
She arched into him, pressed her breasts against his chest. Until she couldn’t think anymore. Until everything, the anger, the confusion, the deception, dissolved into one big blur of desperation and passion that eclipsed everything else.
She felt the almost-unshakable urge to move her hands from his hair, down his shoulders, to his chest. Just to see what muscles like that would feel like beneath her palms. To know what it was like to touch a man who was so perfectly formed.
She didn’t, though. Mostly because she was afraid if she shifted their positions in any way, she would lose her grip on him and slowly sink down into a puddle.
When he lifted his head, she felt like she’d run a marathon, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to catch her breath.
“That,” he said, “should be sufficient. I think it will leave little doubt about our personal involvement. And I’m certain it’s been caught on camera.”
“Oh.” It was all she could say. Her brain had completely shorted out about the time he’d put his tongue in her mouth.
“And even better, it’s a completely appropriate time for us to leave, since we’ve just shown we have other things on our minds.”
“Right.”
“Everything okay?”
“Fine. It just seems like we just got here and…and I have to write a check.”
“We have work in the morning.”
“I know.”
“I forgot, you never run out of energy.”
Except she felt oddly tired now. And more than a little unnerved. She wasn’t sure why she’d responded to him the way that she had. Yes, he was a good kisser, but women were supposed to be more cerebral about these things. The mind was supposed to be her gender’s largest sexual organ. Which meant the whole not-liking-him thing should have mattered. Should have affected her enjoyment of the kiss. And yet, it didn’t. If anything, it fueled the excitement of it.
It was strange especially because of her past experience with sex and anger. But this felt…completely different.
Even so, it seemed weird that she liked it so much. But her feelings for him had never been neutral, so of course, kissing him wouldn’t make her feel neutral.
And she was a woman, after all. She wasn’t immune to sexy men. Like Thad. He was hot, and she had definitely noticed. If she was Thad’s type who knows? She might have indulged in a little fling with her personal assistant. Maybe. If the idea of trying to seduce a guy didn’t make her sweaty and nervous.
She hadn’t had time to be sweaty and nervous with Ferro because her brain had been nonfunctioning. But it was starting to function a little better, and the nerves were definitely coming.
“Right. Yeah. Late nights don’t really bother me.”
“Me, either, it was just an excuse. I’m not especially fond of these kinds of events.”
“Why is that?”
His expression went ice-cold, hard, his lips, sensual before, thinned into a flat line. “Old memories. The past has never been my favorite place.”
It was the first time she’d seen him falter. Sure, she’d made him angry before, but even then, he’d had control over what he’d displayed.
The chill that came over him now wasn’t anything like what she’d seen of him before. It seemed more real. And a whole lot scarier.
“Right, well, me, either. High school basically sucked. I had braces and zits and these really thick glasses…”
“Sounds like it was tough,” he said, clearly not of the opinion that it was. “But it’s time to go.”
But he had no idea. No idea what it was like to feel like an outsider, not just in school, but at home. To have your mother pay a guy behind your back to be your date. And to have that date…that date that still had a twenty from your mom in his wallet, try to force you into sex, then hit you when you said no.
No, he didn’t know about that. And he didn’t need to. It didn’t matter anyway. Because now she understood, understood that normal wasn’t so shiny and perfect. That normal and “functional” didn’t really mean anything at all. Because somehow everyone had thought that a guy who would try to rape his date was normal, while those same people were convinced something was wrong with her.
It hadn’t left her with much confidence in people.
She nodded slowly and he looped his arm through hers. They went back into the ballroom and she felt like all eyes were on them, which they doubtlessly were. They’d just very conspicuously gone out to the balcony for fifteen minutes, and now Ferro was rushing them through the crowd at a speed that spoke of urgency.
Oh, yes, they had earned the stares.
She’d never been big in the dating scene, so it was an interesting experience being on the arm of a guy like Ferro.
Well, since becoming a billionaire she’d had more than a few guys after her, but they were all the same. Gorgeous, dumb, lazy and in possession of very little knowledge of th
e Lord of the Rings trilogy. In short, totally worthless to her.
But they didn’t count. They didn’t even have the decency to want her for her body. Just her money. And that wasn’t exactly a turn-on.
Of course, her for-show kiss with Ferro should not have been a turn-on, but darned if she wasn’t just a little on the turned-on side of things. Pulse racing, breasts aching. Yeah, turned on, for sure.
She hoped her heated cheeks weren’t as pink as she was imagining them, and followed Ferro out of the ballroom and to the front of the hotel, where his limo was already waiting.
“Nice work, Calvaresi—texted your driver did you?”
“I have an app that lets me send down a brief alert when I need to be picked up. It even gives my location to the driver. Just in case over the course of the evening I wind up in a different place than where he dropped me off.”
She got in, and Ferro slid in beside her. “Oh, like if you bar hop or something?”
His smile turned naughty. “Or something.”
Oh. Yes. That. The going back to a random hotel with a random woman. Strange, considering the reputation Ferro had as a legendary lover, that he wasn’t actually photographed with women all that often.
She frowned. “Right.”
“Now, don’t look jealous, cara, those other women, they meant nothing.” He wasn’t being sincere. He wasn’t even trying to look sincere, and yet her body, her heart, which, she swore skipped a beat, didn’t seem to care.
She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. All the better to keep from reaching out and touching him again. “It’s almost frightening how full of crap you are.”
“Excuse me?”
“The smile.” She punctuated that with a wide, cheesy grin of her own. “The pickup lines. You’re very good at it, Ferro. It’s easy to forget that it’s all a show and you’re just a big empty husk of a man with no heart and no soul.”
“Ah, you see right through me,” he said, still smiling, still looking at her like she was the only woman on earth. “I would advise you to remember the words you just said to me, because you may need them later. I am a man with little in the way of a conscience and it would do you well to keep that in mind.”
“Don’t worry, Ferro, I won’t forget. I’m not in the habit of trusting men. Anyone, really. I won’t lapse with you.”
But with his dark eyes trained on hers, and the impression of his mouth still burned into her lips, she was afraid that if she didn’t watch herself, she would be tempted to forget. Just so she could enjoy the fantasy of the man.
Because the fantasy of him was more compelling than any reality she’d had yet, at least in terms of kissing and desire.
But the important thing to remember was that it was a fantasy. Was that this was a tentative alliance at best. And that when all of the deceit was stripped away, when this night was nothing more than a memory, Ferro Calvaresi was her deadliest enemy.
And that was much more important than a kiss. No matter how scorching.
CHAPTER FIVE
JULIA HUFFED OUT a curse word as the doors to the elevator opened. She’d been in her office, ready to start the day with a tureen of coffee, when Ferro had called, demanding her presence at his office. No, he wasn’t going to her. No, it wasn’t negotiable.
And he hadn’t had the decency to give her any details about it, so of course, if only out of curiosity, she’d decided she had to go. But only after Thad had tracked down the biggest to-go mug he could find so she could bring her daily dose of caffeine with her.
She stalked down the hall, pausing for a moment to take in the caramel marble floors and the artwork on the walls. It was very similar to Ferro’s home. Opulent and unrestrained, like no office building she’d been in.
She’d gone for the Zen approach in hers. Bamboo floors, and yes, the little sand gardens on her employees’ desks. So she was a little bit of a cliché. She felt it made for a relaxing work atmosphere so it was worth it.
She walked toward the ornate, dark wood reception desk at the end of the walkway, satisfied by the harsh sound her heels made on the floor. It was her favorite part about the makeover she’d gotten a few years back. All the sexy, black shoes. The way her steps sounded on the sidewalk, or on hard floors, made her feel powerful. Confident. Especially after she’d learned to walk in them without falling on her face.
There was a man sitting behind the reception desk, which shocked her. She imagined Ferro would have had some pretty young thing hired to be his assistant. And why not? She did. But no. His assistant was just a very normal-looking, middleaged man in a blue shirt and tie.
“Hi, I’m here to see Ferro. And yes, he’s expecting me.”
“Ms. Anderson.”
“Yes. That’s me. Julia Anderson, Anfalas.”
“I am aware,” he said, looking back at the computer screen and typing in a few things.
“Are you looking for an appointment? Because I don’t think I have one.”
“No, I’m sending an email, just a second.”
She huffed out a short breath. “I’m just going to go in.”
“They’re locked.”
She didn’t turn and look at him again, she just walked on down another corridor, until she got to two, dark wood doors, carved in a similar fashion to the reception desk. “What does he think this is? The Sistine Chapel?” she muttered as she approached the doors and pushed on the door handles. They didn’t budge. Stupid Ferro.
She knocked, hard.
“Yes?”
“It’s your dream date, Calvaresi, open up.”
She heard his heavy footsteps crossing the office, then both doors swung open. “Did Jerry give you a hard time?”
“Is that his name? Yeah, he treated me like the enemy at the gate.”
“Well, he must not have seen the news this morning. Or he did and he’s afraid you’re trying to seduce secrets out of me.”
“Me? Seduce secrets out of you?”
“You are very much the Femme Fatale, especially with all the black.”
She looked down at her skinny jeans and tight top. “Yeah, all set for corporate espionage. Can I come in?”
He stood to the side and she brushed past him and into his office. It was as opulent and overdone as the rest of the building with marble and wood trim, art pieces and vases. And in here there was even a very plush, very busy oriental rug.
No one could accuse Ferro of minimalism.
She took a seat in one of the leather, wingback chairs in front of his desk. “So what was so important that I had to come across town before I finished my coffee?” She held her mug aloft. “So I could talk to you?”
“Did you see the news?”
“Been busy.” She’d been avoiding it. After the explosion that had happened after their first public outing she’d been genuinely terrified of what might be in the paper today. And she really, really didn’t want to see pictures of them making out. She really didn’t.
“Then let me enlighten you.” He smiled and picked up a tablet device from his desk. He touched a news app and it opened, giving headline after headline, from tech blogs, to traditional news publications, about Julia Anderson and Ferro Calvaresi’s scorching affair.
Heat pricked her face when she saw the photos. Each article had more than one of them, revealing, sexual. And the look on her face was much too sincere. There she was, pressed against the wall, her arms twined around Ferro’s neck, their lips fused together. She had to admit, they made a pretty hot couple. She actually looked okay with him, not completely out of place.
“Well. Wow,” she managed after a few minutes.
“And that’s not the best part,” he said.
“Oh. Yay.”
“The talk in the online forums, and on the tech blogs, isn’t as negative as it was yesterday. There’s some buzz that there may be a big merger coming. They’re already speculating about what the love child, so to speak, between Anfalas and Datasphere would look like.”
; “But there isn’t.”
“Barrows will be the love child. That navigation system. And we’ll have the prebuzz. Can you imagine it? Can you imagine how desirable this product is going to be by the time it hits? This is better than we could have imagined.”
It didn’t feel better, it felt…It was making her dizzy. “You do know how to spread a rumor, don’t you?”
“Not just me. And in the age of media run by the masses things can spread at unbelievable speed. Even if they’re half-truths and speculation, people take them as gospel. And once it’s out there like this…eradicating it isn’t possible. All you can do is skew it to work in your favor.”
“You’re a master there, aren’t you?” She thought of that biography. Of all the secrets it had spilled. She wondered if any of it was true.
It seemed too fantastic to be real, honestly. She didn’t see how it could be true. A boy from the streets of Rome, barely scraping by, started making murky connections, dating wealthy women, manipulating them for their money. Then saving, investing, starting up a company and becoming one of the richest, most powerful men in the world.
Yep. Far too unbelievable to be real. And yet, Ferro had never corrected the rumors. He’d never said a thing about them. Had never seemed affected. He’d just smiled, that Calvaresi smile, and shined it on any reporter who asked. No denial, no confirmation.
If anything, the rumors had made him more popular. Women already loved him, and the idea that he’d managed to use his body to earn his success only made him more intriguing. Rare was the computer genius with a body like Ferro’s, and he was consistently ranked one of the sexiest people alive. The year the biography had come out, he’d been top of the list.
Oh, no, the rumors had never hurt him. And he’d never seemed at all bothered by any of the talk.
“I’m not a novice,” he said. “Anyway, this is all going as we planned. Now all we need to do is get a product proposal into Barrows.”
“Oh, that’s all.”
“We’re two of the greatest minds in the world, I’m sure we can come up with something.”
“Or kill each other trying,” she said.