The Couple who Fooled the World (4 page)

“We better be. I don’t want to have to pay for my own dinner.” That earned her some laughter and she was gratified that she’d managed a witty response. Especially since half of her brainpower was being used up to focus on the heat that was coursing from her palm, where Ferro was holding her hand, up her arm, to her breasts, making her nipples, of all things, tingle a little bit.

Ferro waved and she did the same, and they walked on, into the ornate theater where they were ushered to their seats. Ferro released her as soon as they were in the dark.

And again, Julia felt like she was in danger of getting whiplash from the recognizable faces surrounding them. “I think that’s—”

“Don’t stare, Julia, it’s rude.”

She shot Ferro a deadly glare he probably couldn’t see in the darkness. “Sorry. I forgot we were being blasé.” And she shouldn’t have forgotten. Anything else was way too revealing and embarrassing.

“You’ll get to the point where you don’t have to remember. Trust me.”

“You think?” she asked, looking sideways at him in the dark.

“I know. You’re lucky life hasn’t knocked it out of you yet.”

She leaned back in her chair. “You have no idea what life has taken from me,” she said. For the second time in the same day, she thought back to that long-ago prom night. Why was she thinking about it so much? She never thought about it. She’d moved on from it. She was fine. Bruises healed. And the stuff that didn’t? It had helped her realize that you had to be strong. It had been when she’d stopped trying to fit in, when she’d stopped being so afraid to be unusual. She’d just started owning it then. And it had been the key to her success.

She wasn’t sending out any thank-you cards to the jackass who’d assaulted her, but she wasn’t wallowing, either.

“I’d venture to say you know less about mine than you think you do, Julia,” he said, his words darker than the theater.

“I read the bio,” she said.

He chuckled, a sound that lacked humor and warmth. “As I said, you know less about me than you think. Just because it’s in print, doesn’t mean it’s the whole truth.”

The End of the Tech World As We Know It?

The headline screamed up at Julia from the newspaper, just delivered to her tablet. Ferro was already in her office, sitting in the chair in front of her desk like he had every right to be there.

“Not exactly the headline we anticipated,” he said.

“Ya think?” She skimmed the article, her stomach sinking. “Either a sharp blow to progress or a cheap publicity stunt,” she read out loud.

“Because if we’re sleeping together we won’t be competing, and if we aren’t competing, will we be on our game?”

“I have a lot of words rolling around in my head right now and they’re all filthy,” she said, standing up and pacing up and
down in front of her office window. “What are we going to do? It’s everywhere. It’s trending on Twitter. There’s a Facebook page, Calvaresi, a freaking Facebook page devoted to…what are they calling us?” She leaned in and skimmed the article again. “JulErro. For the love of Darth.”

“And for everyone rooting for this little enemies-to-lovers tale…”

“There are just as many rooting for us to go down in flames. This…this is a lot bigger than we anticipated, isn’t it?”

Ferro wished he could say he’d anticipated just this, but the simple fact was, social media was hard to anticipate. The press was one thing, the civilian-run news machine? Something else entirely. And the simple truth was, this had gone way outside the tech world, thanks to the internet, which was run by the masses. Who were entirely unpredictable.

“Yes,” he said. “It is.”

The feeling of claustrophobia he felt now, the feeling of being trapped, he didn’t like it. A trap of his own making. And it wasn’t the first one he’d ever been in. He knew all about this. About going so far down a road there was no way to turn back. That you just had to push through, keep going, because you’d gone too damn far.

“Fine,” she said, continuing to pace. “We continue on, and we make it the biggest spectacle ever. And when we blow it up, we make it huge. The biggest media explosion ever. And we’ll always be more interesting after this. Think about it, when you hijack another one of my presentations, just think how newsworthy it will be when we’re exes? Hypothetically. Don’t hijack one of my presentations again.”

Julia might be wearing armor, but she was a tough woman. Smart. Brilliant even. “Of course,” he said, “we’ll be expected to spend a lot of time together. A lot. The visibility is too high. We’re going to have to give them something to talk about, because if we don’t…if we get caught in this…”

“We’re in trouble.”

“Putting it mildly.”

“Okay…okay…what’s the plan then?”

“There’s a charity event tonight. I was planning on skipping it and writing a check, but I think we should make an appearance, don’t you? As a couple.”

Julia looked like she was going to say something, but she hesitated.

“Come on, Julia,” he said. “Don’t wimp out now.”

“I’m not wimping out!”

“Then why do you look like a deer caught in the headlights?”

“Because the other day we were sworn enemies and if I never had to see you in person it suited me just fine. Now…two outings with you in a row? I could live without that.”

“Maybe this is why tech, and business in general, is traditionally a man’s game,” he said, not meaning a word he was saying but knowing it would give Julia the kick she needed. “Maybe it’s because women are too ruled by emotion.”

He knew it wasn’t true. Because he’d been…he didn’t even know what to call it. Shaped, molded, by women who hadn’t cared what their actions meant to the emotions of a teenage boy. He’d spent years surrounded by women who saw people only as pawns. People of both genders were more than capable of acting based on selfish desire. Of using people to meet their ends.

But his words would push Julia. He knew it. Knew it was a hot button for her.

“Are you saying I can’t do this?” she asked.

“You’re the one who looks like she has a problem. I’m willing to make this work. Are you? Or are you just giving me lip service here?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to ignore the potential double entendre there.”

“If it suits you.”

“Fine. You have yourself a date for tonight. Ferro?”

“Yes?”

“Uh…what’s the charity?” He had a feeling that wasn’t the question she’d intended to ask.

“For homeless youths.”

“Great. I’ll bring my checkbook.”

C
HARITY EVENTS WERE
the scourge of Ferro’s existence. A shiny, gorgeous hotel ballroom, filled with internally ugly people who possessed an unnatural amount of self-importance. People who manipulated and used the less fortunate for their own pleasure during the day, but showed up to things like this to show their altruism to the press.

He could well remember the first time he’d been in a room like this. Hating who he was with. Hating that he had to smile and fawn and do whatever it was he’d been paid to do. No matter whether he wanted it. No. The tabloids, the author of his bio, they really had no idea of the depths he’d been to.

He looked at Julia, who was holding on to his arm like it was a live eel, the smile on her face anything but easy, and he wondered if he had become no better.

No. This benefitted Julia, too. It was an exchange.

Like sex for money?
Hell, no. This wasn’t the same.

Why was he even thinking about it? He rarely did. But it happened more since Julia and he had struck their unholy alliance. No one knew the truth. They believed, of course, that he’d slept his way to the top. He’d been spotted with some very wealthy older women in his younger years. But they didn’t know the truth.

The rumors clung to him, disgusted him. Because of the
ring of truth to them. But he would walk the same path a thousand times to end up where he was today. He just went on, proving his right to be in his position with his continued success.

Regret was for the weak. And he wasn’t wasting any time on it tonight. Or ever. He was shutting it off. The way he’d shut off the feelings of bone deep hunger and cold he’d experienced as a child on the street. The way he’d shut down the shame and pain when he’d been lifted up from that gutter where he’d been and brought into a glittering, hideous world that had asked for his soul in exchange for food and a warm bed. In exchange for eventual success.

The way he shut desire down now, to avoid ever thinking about that time in his life.

Tonight, for this, he would shut off what little conscience he had left, and go forward. Because it was the best thing to do. Because the end always justified the means. Always. And because he was no longer the boy he’d once been. He was the man with the power. And that meant he would win in the end.

As they moved through the room, a wave of whispers followed. Everyone was watching them. Everyone was interested.

“Try to relax,” he said to Julia.

“I am relaxed.”

“Which leads me to the conclusion that you genuinely don’t know how to relax. You’re tense. You’re practically shivering.”

She looked down at her hands. “I have a lot of energy.”

“Is that so? Then perhaps we should put it to good use.” He shifted his hold on her and laced their fingers together, drawing her out toward the high gloss dance floor.

“Why?” she asked, her tone petulant.

“Why what?”

“Why the dancing?” She looked genuinely worried now, all that tough-chick bravado gone.

“Because the headline will be sensational.” He drew her up against his body and felt her frame tremble beneath his touch. It wasn’t attraction. He was well familiar with women being attracted to him. She looked…scared. “I’m not going to bite you,” he said.

“I know.” She looked around. “But I’m going to look stupid.”

“Follow my lead.”

He began to step in time with the music, guiding Julia’s movements. She clung to his shoulder, her nails digging into him through the fabric of his jacket. He was familiar with that, with long nails pressed into his skin, a memory from his past. But this, again, was different.

She stumbled, the heel of her shoe harsh on his toe, even with his custom leather shoes to cushion the blow. Her face turned pink. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He kept on moving, and she stumbled again, the color in her cheeks deepening.

“This isn’t really my thing,” she said, looking over his shoulder, at the people behind them. “People are staring.”

“Most of them probably like our Facebook page. We’re infamous now, not just famous.”

“Weren’t you already?”

He smiled. “Yes. Welcome to the dark side.”

“I’m not sure I like that I’ve joined you here.”

“So, you’ve always kept your conscience clean before your association with me?”

She looked down. “Of course.”

“Do I make you feel dirty, Julia?”

She lifted her head, her eyes round, face pink. He’d succeeded in shocking. In putting her off balance. He didn’t know why he needed to do it. To prove that he was still in control?
Maybe. The control felt tenuous with her in his arms, her skin soft beneath the palm of his hand.

But this was just a game. Like every other sexual game he’d ever played. He had a part to play. It had nothing to do with him, with what he wanted. It didn’t even matter what she wanted. It mattered what the press wanted to see.

And they wanted a show. A show he was going to make sure they got.

“Every association I’ve ever had with you has made me feel like I had a little dirt on my hands now that you mention it.”

“I’d ask you how it feels to sell your soul for money. But I already know.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. She looked so…sweet. Not in personality, but like her flavor would be that of a fine dessert. He wondered.

Hell, he didn’t have to wonder. It was time to put on the show. Not because he was wondering about her lips, but because he couldn’t have her standing there, staring at him with a guppylike expression on her face.

He stopped, then put his hand on her cheek. Her skin was soft. Warm. Then he leaned in, and she stiffened, just a bit, beneath his touch. “Come with me to the terrace. It’s much more private.” He moved his hand up and down her back in a smooth, lingering caress before releasing her from his hold and taking them both off the dance floor, across the room and out the doors that led to the secluded balcony that overlooked the ocean.

“What are you doing?” she snapped when they were outside.

“I’m sparing you the dancing embarrassment, and giving the public what they want. What’s better than being seen on the dance floor? Being seen sneaking off of it for a little privacy.” He looked back in the ballroom and noticed that their movements had been followed by a woman who was now
watching them far too closely to be mistaken for a casual observer. “We already have the attention of the paparazzi. And, if I’m not mistaken, a woman taking pictures with a OnePhone.”

“Ten points to me.”

He took a step toward her and she retreated, her back butting against the stucco wall of the hotel. “Kiss me,” he said.

“What?”

“We’re out here on a darkened terrace, there is only one possible reason for such a move.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I want you. I can’t keep my hands off you, and I had to remove us from civilized company so I could give in to my fantasies and have my way with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Julia, the only thing that could push two storied rivals into each other’s arms is the kind of lust that doesn’t follow the rules. A kind of passion that defies logic and reason. The kind that would see us rushing off the dance floor to somewhere we could be alone.”

Julia’s mouth and throat had gone completely dry. No man, ever, had looked at her with the kind of intensity Ferro was focusing on her now.

Her prom date, Michael, had viewed her with a weird sort of anger and aggression. Even as he’d been forcing kisses on her, it hadn’t been because of lust or attraction, but some need to dominate. To own her.

The attempted rape had had nothing to do with him wanting her sexually. He’d been violent. Hateful and insulting. Frightening.

Ferro wasn’t looking at her like that. He was all heat and interest, intensity. Desire. Like he was looking at her, really looking at her. And the thing was, she knew it was part of
the game. She knew that Ferro turned the charm on and off like a tap, that he had all this down to an art.

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.