by Maisey Yates
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.
“That is a possibility.”
She bit her lip and debated saying anything else. She totally resented having to ask him this, but, all things considered, it would look really strange if she didn’t. She’d almost asked yesterday, but even then she’d been sort of hoping there would be a way around it.
Because the plan was to go back to the way things had always been at the end of this. And the more time she spent with him, the harder it would be. And this…this was going to require a lot of time spent together.
But she was trapped. They were trapped. Hoist by their own petard, as it were.
“I have a…thing,” she said. “An event thing. And it was to Julia and Guest and since I was Guest at the Cold Planet premiere and the charity, I thought you should maybe be Guest at this.”
“I see. And what is it exactly?”
She flinched. “A wedding? It’s for one of my staff members and she invited me and this is a huge industry type of event and if we don’t go together after all that, then what’s even the point?”
She was rambling because she knew that he would probably like to go to a wedding like he wanted a hole in the head, but it only made sense.
“If I go alone people will ask questions,” she said, sensing from his silence that he was not amused at the thought of being roped into this.
“And why didn’t you ask me yesterday?”
She winced. “I was hoping to come up with an exit strategy. I failed.”
“No exit door past this point, cara mia.”
“Obviously,” she said. “Which is why I am now asking you. But I was waiting until I had no other option.”
“I see. And when is this wedding?”
“Next weekend.”
“Saturday or Sunday?”
She flinched again. “It’s kind of an extended thing.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it’s a destination wedding. Very trendy. Especially for a highly paid junior executive at a very successful tech company.”
“And where is the destination?”
“It’s sort of in Alaska.”
“Who gets married in Alaska?” That’s what she’d asked.
“It’s a very beautiful resort. And the bride’s family is from there, so it’s a returning to her roots…thing.” That had been the bride’s answer anyway.
“And you expect us to go to Alaska for the weekend. As a couple?”
“Well…yes. Come one, Ferro, you know if I go alone it will cause more trouble than if we go together. We’ve got this great online buzz and by the time Barrows gets the proposal from us they won’t even be surprised. They’ll be thrilled in fact since, as you mentioned, everyone is champing at the bit to get a glimpse of the unholy spawn our union will produce.”
“That’s true.”
“Name your price,” she said. “I could put some money on the dresser every morning.”
The words hung in the air, so awkward and not what she’d intended. It wasn’t supposed to be all sexual innuendo-y but it was. She blamed those pictures. Well, and the make-out session that had produced them.
She shook her head. “Oh…gross. I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I—”
“Don’t apologize, cara mia.” He smiled, and it was so off considering the situation. He hadn’t been in full charm mode thirty seconds ago and now he looked… There was something haunted in his eyes and she didn’t like it. But it was gone almost as soon as she identified it. “A joke. I get it.”
“Great,” she said.
“And of course I’ll go to the wedding with you. There’s no work I can’t do remotely so it won’t mess with anything on that score.”
“Great.”
“We will have to share a room, you know that, of course?”
“Maybe they’ll just think we’re old-fashioned and sleep separately?”
He gave her a hard look. “I doubt it. But won’t there be more than one bedroom in the suite?”
She winced. “Well, no. Because all the suites were booked.”
“What?”
“I mean, I still have a suite, but it’s this big, one room sort of thing. All open.”
“And how did that come to pass?”
“I went to book the best room, then felt like a jerk because the bride and groom should have the best room. So I got the Royal Suite for Dana and Josh. But then I thought her parents and his parents needed nice rooms, so I booked the town house suites for the families.”
He let out a long breath. “And let me guess, the bridal party needed rooms, too.”
“Well. Yes.”
“You’re generous to your own detriment, cara. But in advance, I’ll tell you I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”
Ferro watched the color in Julia’s cheeks darken. She was still mortified from her previous gaffe regarding leaving the money on the dresser, he could tell. She was the rare person not quite jaded enough by failure or success. Things still affected her, and in spite of her armor, her emotions were still visible. But he wasn’t going to comfort her. It wasn’t his job to make her feel all right about herself. He shouldn’t feel compelled to tell her it was all right.
She doesn’t know about your past.
No, she didn’t. But it didn’t matter if she did.
A twinge in his chest called that a lie. He did care. He didn’t like people thinking he’d manipulated women out of their fortune by seduction. But the truth was worse. The truth that he wasn’t the one doing the manipulating.
Still, her little joke was cutting a bit too close to the past. They were trading, not sexual favors, but they were walking a fine line. The kiss had proven that. She had been affected by it, he could tell. He hadn’t been. She had been interesting to kiss. Inexpert and clumsy, enthusiastic in a way he’d never experienced before.
But in truth, it had been just like the times in his past. Times
when he’d had to do things to survive, whether he wanted to or not. When he’d had to use the only asset he’d possessed to get ahead. To survive.
He’d been smart, but mainly uneducated. A hard worker, but not able to get jobs that would truly advance him.
Then he’d met Claudia. And everything had changed.
You want to make money, caro, you use what you have. Why be hungry when you have something people will buy? A nice body. Women will pay to use you, and you will be rich.
No mention of the cut she’d taken, but in the end, she was right. He had gotten rich. Though, mainly through investing the money he earned.
But in order to do a job like that he’d had to learn how to detach his mind from his body. A perfect division of the two. It was the only way to feel okay. To survive it. Otherwise…otherwise the shame was crippling. So he’d built walls around himself. Now it was like second nature. He flipped it on and off like a switch. He’d been a casual observer to the kiss with Julia and she had clearly been an active participant.
Again, not unusual for him, but it left a bad taste in his mouth.
This was why he avoided relationships. Why he avoided women. Because as skilled as he was at separating mind from body, he couldn’t put them back together now. It was all a transaction. All about him giving, then taking payment. It was all he understood, and he was burned out on it.
Twelve years on and it still made his skin feel like it was coated in dirt. Still made him feel like his body belonged to other people. Like he was a product, waiting to be used for the buyer’s pleasure. He still felt that his past clients owned little pieces of him. Like he’d been torn apart and parceled off.
But not his mind. They had nothing of his mind. Only his body.
He didn’t want to go back to that. Didn’t want to spend any time reliving it. Which was why it was better to simply let go of physical pleasure. He didn’t know how to handle it all in the right way anyway. It wasn’t the same for him.
But Julia was a woman. A normal woman, who was not unaffected by his touch and that meant he had to be careful. He wasn’t going to use her body against her. He was determined not to do that, no matter what.
There were depths he would not sink to. He would use her, but only so far as she used him. But in terms of sexual desire they were on two different playing fields, and he would never, ever do to her what had been done to him.
He would never use her body to his own ends. Because he could. It would be so very easy…
“Well, that’s a relief. And also, gentlemanly to give me the bed.”
“I assume you’re paying for the room.”
“But you’re my date,” she said.
“I’m Guest. You’re the name on the invitation. And you footing the bill is the only thing giving you a preferential sleeping position, so if you want me to pay…”
“I’m pretty sure I can afford it, Ferro, or did you not see that I’m the richest woman in the world.”
“I did, it was an interesting article.”
“Well, I can afford a hotel room. And I want the bed.”
“I can afford one, too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I read your article, too. And hey, you were reading about me?” The expression on her face was funny, a mix of delight and insecurity. Julia was a savvy businesswoman, no question, but there was something beneath it, too. Something that seemed to shine through the armor sometimes. A glimpse at someone young, easily excited and bursting with dreams.
He wondered why she covered that part of herself up in black and leather. Why she tried to pretend she was blasé and unaffected when she was clearly anything but. He wondered why she’d put on her armor in the first place.
“I was reading the article, it turned out you were the star.”
“Yeah, I’ve done all right for myself. We’ve done all right for ourselves.” That made his stomach feel odd.
“We have.”
“So, I’m going to go and get back to my desk and my assistant that does not treat me like the dirt on the bottom of his shoes. Will you need me for anything else this week?”
“I shouldn’t. We don’t need the business proposal in for another two weeks.”
“Great, then I’ll spend the week getting everything in order for me to be gone for a few days. And I’ll uh…see you at the wedding.”
She turned and walked out of the office, her strides long and purposeful, the flick of her long blond hair leaving a cloud of lavender behind.
Any normal man would surely be plotting to seduce her over the weekend. He imagined if she had brought another date, she would have been seduced.
Instead she was bringing him. And seduction was not on his agenda. He was far too familiar with it, and it had left a bad taste in his mouth that lingered years after the fact.
This was all about business. And he no longer had to use his body for the sake of business. Now it was just a matter of chipping away at his soul, when the occasion demanded. Lucky for him, he was so accustomed to it that it barely hurt anymore.
No, he’d managed to find ways to block all that out. And now, even when he wanted to feel something, all that remained was a dark, empty void. He had removed his pain, along with everything good.
He looked around his office, at the pristine, glimmering room that was evidence of all he had achieved. The trade, in his estimation, had been worth it.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS OFFICIAL, her Alaska outfit was kick-ass. Which was good, because she needed a little of that to get her through dealing with a long weekend of Ferro in a hotel room. Gulp.
She tugged at the zipper on her black jacket and put her hands on her hips, black leather pants feeling appropriately tough and awesome against her skin. Then she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and waited on the already-way-too-warm-for-these-clothes tarmac for Ferro to arrive so she could board his private plane.
Clothes really did do something for the way she felt. She’d doubted that when she’d first been thrust into the public arena. Monochromatic had always been her strategy. Black helped her match and blend in. And especially after the assault she’d stopped trying to fit in and just gone with baggy T-shirts with funny sayings and baggy pants with too many zippers.
She didn’t wear color. Especially pink. Not after the prom dress.
You’ll look so pretty in it, honey.
The image of her standing in front of the mirror at the department store, her mother behind her, beaming, flashed through her mind. They’d spent hours dress shopping after Michael had asked her to be his date.
That same dress had been torn, destroyed by the end of the night. And when she’d taken it off, let it fall to the bathroom floor before stepping into the shower to scrub the blood and pain and shame away, she’d vowed she would never wear that stupid, insipid color again.
At first, her publicist and stylist had tried to push her into softer clothes, but eventually, they’d figured out a style that kept some of her edge while giving her polish.
It was armor. It made her look more like she wanted to feel. Tougher, more in control. Like she had mastered that silly girl looking desperately for acceptance. Like she was tough enough to take on the world. She still felt like a shivery mass of Jell-O inside half the time.
But hey, at least she looked the part, even if she couldn’t be the part.
“All ready for snowdrifts, I see.”
She turned and watched Ferro stride toward her, with a fully appropriate level of female appreciation for the way the man looked in a pair of dark jeans that rode low on lean hips, a white, button-up shirt with sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a leather bag slung over his shoulder.
“And you’re not.”
“Well, I thought I might change on the plane. It has more bedrooms than the hotel suite you booked us.”
“But it is true.”
“Well, I’ll find out soon, won’t I?” She picked her suitcase up from the ground and looked at him. “Give the order, or, whatever you have to do to get this show on the road. I don’t want to linger on the runway. I’m sweltering.”
He smiled and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.
“You know, there’s a faster, better phone than that on the market,” she said. “OnePhone. To rule them all.”
“Better is a generalization and is also subjective. Also, your phone is only faster when it’s able to hook up to your special cell towers which is in…remind me, Julia, ten percent of cases?”
She smiled. “Twelve. But we’re expanding.”
“Right, right.” He pushed a button on his phone and the door to the plane opened, the stairs lowering. “In the meantime, my phone continues to be functional. And it makes calls without dropping them.”
“Yeah, super functional. I bet all the people with private planes want your phone. Meanwhile, the masses who want to fling birds at pigs, really like my phone.”
“A waste of tech.”
“No, it’s not.” She started climbing the stairs and ducked her head when she entered the plane. “Nice. Bigger than mine,” she said, sitting on one of the plush leather sofas. “Anyway, when I was in high school, we were all starting to get phones. And they did one thing, they made calls. Great. The screens were black-and-white, the ring tones were monophonic. Really rich kids got a laptop, too. Now? Now a whole computer is available on your phone. Web browsing, videos and, yes, games. Accessibility. There’s a price point, not just for phones, but for all technology for almost everyone now. Information, entertainment. All in your hand.”
“I’m going to skip the potential double entendre inherent in comments about handheld entertainment.”
She curled her lip. “Please do.”
“But I do see your point. You see yourself as a bit of a revolutionary, don’t you?”
“I do. We’re changing the landscape here, Ferro, changing the way people interact and learn. It’s an amazing thing we do here.”