The Couple who Fooled the World (7 page)

He followed her, wordlessly, to the elevator and let her push the buttons, taking them up to a high floor. A room with a view, no doubt.

The doors opened and he followed Julia down the hall, her shoes clicking on the wood floor. She liked to take long, hard steps. He’d noticed that about her early on. All a part of her armor. To seem tough. To seem impenetrable.

“It’s on the end,” she said, chipper, sliding her keycard into the reader and pushing the door open.

The room was, as she’d said, completely open with massive floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of the lake and mountains. There was a couch, and one large bed, framed in wooden poles that looked hand-carved.

Most men would be thinking about all the activity that could be accomplished in a bed that size. He, in fact, started to.

Do as you’re told, boy. You’re not here for you. You’re here for me. For my pleasure. I own you
.

That was the real Claudia. Not the woman who acted like she wanted to help a young man with no place to sleep. The woman who took pleasure in owning him. In selling him. That voice was always in the back of his mind, reminding him just how dirty he was.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself that none of it mattered, it did. It did.

Because there was no freedom from it. There was no escaping the fear of being cold, no matter how many years you’d spent warm since. There was no escaping the feeling that your body belonged to someone else. No matter how long it had been since you sold it.

The fact remained, he had sold it. And somehow, he had never felt that he’d gotten it back.

“Nice,” she said, “and, only the one bed, as advertised.” Her cheeks turned pink and he wondered if it was all down to embarrassment, or if she desired him?

If she desired him, the entire game they were playing would be easier. So much easier if one of them was feeling something genuine.

And he would know how to use that desire. To make it burn hotter for him. Brighter. He was trained, after all, to give a woman exactly what she wanted.

He rebelled at the idea, though. He had already played with her once, at the charity event he had used her emotion to bring on arousal, had used his expertise against her, to make her enjoy the kiss even though she loathed him.

He knew for a fact that with the right thoughts in mind, it was possible to be turned on even when you hated everything happening to your body. That it was possible to find a place deep enough that you controlled everything with your mind.

He gritted his teeth.

“Yes, but I am still willing to take the couch, no argument.”

“Great.”

“Will there be media at this wedding?”

“Yes, lots. That’s why I knew we needed to go together. Josh is a Colter, you know, of The Colters who own the restaurant chain, so it’s a big deal.”

“And still you booked everyone’s rooms? They must all be millionaires at minimum.”

“My wedding gift,” she said.

He looked at her, trying to read her, trying to figure her out. She was insecure, yes, he’d read that early on. Compliments would go a long way with her, because she was hungry for external validation. And yet, also, she did these things that were just nice.

She gave to people for no reason and he found he had a hard time understanding that.

Or maybe it wasn’t so much niceness. Maybe she was buying friends. Yes, that made sense to him. Especially knowing what he did about her.

“And your attempt at buying friends?” he asked. She frowned. “Everyone does nice things for their friends.”

“I don’t.”

“Do you have friends?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because. At this point in life, yes, I would always feel I was buying them. I’m not particularly likable, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“No, I had.”

“I came to the world stage with nothing. There are no connections from my past I wish to maintain.”

She sighed. “I’m not buying friends. I’m doing this because I want to, and I can, so why not? I do find that problem with dates, though,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Do you?”

“Yes. Gold diggers. I am a meal ticket to almost every man that wants to go out with me and it’s really, really tiring. The big question I ask myself before I agree to go out with a guy is would he have dated me before I had money? If the answer is no, I don’t bother anymore.”

“And how do you gauge that?”

“Men of a certain…handsomeness threshold,” she said, “are not with me because of my brains.”

“Stereotyping.”

“But I’ve found it to be true. I had a uh…incident in high school.”

“More of your past hardship?”

The cynicism in his voice had her turning away from the urge to share. “What about you? You don’t have friends, but I’ve seen the sort of women you take to events.”

Yes, he was very selective about the kind of woman he took to parties. Beautiful, shallow. He bought their dresses, their jewelry, he let them hang on his arm and have his picture taken. And at the end of the night, they always went their separate ways.

He had never started out intending it to be that way, but the voice was always there. Interrupting desire. Destroying his lust.

“I don’t care what they’re after,” he said. “As long as we both get what we want.”

He got to present the image he wanted to give to the press, they got diamonds, exposure, the thrill of being with a celebrity, whatever it was that got them off. So long as it wasn’t sex.

“Gee, you’re like most of my dates.”

“No, I don’t use. I trade. And anyway, you think it’s better to try to guess what they want before you get in too deep?”

“Okay, so that sucks. But so does finding out the guy who you’ve gone on four dinner dates with is a gay man in a committed
relationship trying to get close to you to get to your money. By the way, the man he was in the relationship with had no idea, and he was very, very unhappy to discover us together at the trendy restaurant I had taken him to.”

“At least he only took advantage of your wallet and not your body.”

“I know,” she said, biting her lip. “I really do. But it would be nice to go out with someone who clearly just didn’t want to use you. Back before…before Anfalas, everyone in my life always made it very clear that there was something wrong with me. And now, yeah, now I’m popular because I dress well and I have money.”

She looked away from him then, out the window. He felt something strange happen to his chest. Like there was an invisible thread that ran between them and he could feel what she did. Or maybe it was just what she’d said. The desire to feel what normal people did, if only for a moment. He didn’t usually worry about it, but sometimes he wondered. What it might be like if his body, heart and brain worked together instead of as separate entities.

Wondered what it would be like if he could scrub the dirt from his skin and walk on. Clean. Like nothing had happened.

But it wasn’t possible.

He shrugged. “That’s the way the world works, Julia. The man with the money holds the power, or in your case, the woman with the money. Do you think anyone gave a damn about me when I was a poor orphan? When I was living on the streets?”

She shook her head. “I’m sure they didn’t otherwise…you wouldn’t have been on the street, would you?”

“No one cared when my mother died,” he said. “Because she had nothing to give anyone. She only had a son, a son no one wanted to look after. A boy who fell through the cracks.”

“How did you survive?” she asked.

“For a while? The church. I lived there for a few years, went to the school the nuns ran. But after a while there wasn’t enough money to care for me, and I found myself homeless again.”

“I suppose that makes my complaints about gold-digging men sound a little silly.”

She looked away, her expression sad. He should compliment her. She’d just fed him the best information, told him that she craved that sort of male attention. She was giving him ample material to use against her. A chance to form a bond that he could use to his advantage later. After he took down Hamlin. When it was time to take Anfalas, and Julia, out, too. He could use this in conjunction with information already in place. All he had to do was use it.

But he didn’t. And he wasn’t sure why.

Perhaps because she was honest. Her words weren’t designed to manipulate. She was truly giving something of herself, and no one had ever done that with him before. No one had ever made him want to share his past before. Just now, he’d told her more than he’d ever told anyone else before.

Again, he felt that strange sort of warmth. Fire licking at his veins.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. She turned to face him. “Uh…sure?”

“Good. Let’s go find something for dinner.”

“O-okay. Just let me get something on other than this.”

He nodded, and suddenly, he was assaulted by an image of her peeling those leather pants from her body. The flames burned hotter.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He strode out of the hotel room and closed the door behind him. And he was cold again.

J
ULIA TRIED TO
shake the little shiver that seemed to cling to her skin whenever Ferro was around. It would be so convenient to blame the Alaskan chill, but it wasn’t really fair or accurate since she’d felt this way ever since their kiss on the balcony.

She wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. Red, which was unusual for her, paired with matching shoes and lipstick, and a fitted black dress, all provided by her stylist with explicit instructions. Along with every other outfit she would wear this weekend.

True horror had been discovering that her very helpful assistant, who did not know her affair with Ferro was fake because she couldn’t have anyone privy to that, had ensured that a different horrifically see-through negligee was provided for every night.

This had prompted her to send Thad a very angry text message about her being in the frozen tundra. His response had been that skin-to-skin contact was the best way to reduce hypothermia. He suggested she get that “delicious bastard” naked and snuggle up for safety.

Her follow-up text had been unrepeatable in polite society.

Ferro was waiting for her at the bar in the hotel restaurant, a glass of whiskey in hand.

“That ought to warm you up,” she said.

His dark brows shot up. “Who said I needed to be warmed up?”

“Earlier you said you didn’t like to be cold.”

His lips curved into a half smile. “I guess I did.” He knocked back the rest of the whiskey, his face remaining placid when she knew his throat had to burn. “Let’s get a table.”

“Sure.”

Ferro flagged down the hostess and she led them across the restaurant, decked out in the same rustic sophistication as the rest of the hotel. They were seated in a corner at a table fashioned from a ring of log and polished so that it was smooth.

“I really like it here,” she said when they were seated. “It all kind of reminds me of something from a fantasy movie. I can imagine dwarves eating here. Though, it would need to be more rustic and less polished. But the idea, I mean.”

If biting her tongue would take the stupid, revealing statement back, then she would do it. What was it about Ferro that brought her inner geek out in full force? Maybe it was just that she wasn’t used to spending so much time with someone who wasn’t a part of her inner circle. She didn’t have to play around with Thad, he knew her, he kept her on track. Her stylist, Sophie, had seen her at her worst in terms of wardrobe and she didn’t seem to care at all.

And her employees, well, most of them were as out of the mainstream as she was. But with Ferro, before this, she’d tried to maintain her image. Because he was one of the enemies, and she never wanted him to see a hole in her armor. Had never wanted him to catch a glimpse of just how human she was.

And that came from the fact that Ferro himself seemed inhuman.

He was a wall of unreadable emotion. Pure granite.

Soft little things like herself were easily squished by something as immobile as rock, and she should remember that. And not think about their kiss. Or the shiver that went over her skin whenever she looked into those dark, fathomless eyes.

But then he surprised her. “Perhaps you should use it as an inspiration for a game setting. For your phone. We could coordinate and make one that runs on my phone’s platform, as well.”

“Oh, that would be fun. Could be one where you build your fantasy world and try to create bigger cities.”

“And you can create armies.”

“Or live peacefully and hunt and gather,” she said, picking her menu up.

“I think it would be a good idea.”

“See? Passion. It helps.”

“Personally I prefer control. Then things aren’t as random. They’re much more predictable. Much more orderly.”

“Oh, but Ferro, you never reach the heights.”

Something in his eyes changed, darkened, his gaze lowering to her lips. She could feel them tingle, just from him looking at them. Well, her lips and parts lower, and she didn’t even want to think about that. About how he’d managed such a feat.

With just a look.

“I’m going to get the salmon,” she said, doing her best to defuse the tension that seemed to only be felt on her end. “Though I feel a little disloyal to my iron friend in the lobby.”

“You have a ruthless streak in you, Julia,” he said, his voice husky. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

He put his menu down and leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She felt like she was being hunted. A strange, and oddly exhilarating feeling.

“It goes with the passion. Even when it’s against my better judgment…I make decisions that are led by emotion. Clearly, or I wouldn’t be here. My desire to cut Hamlin out of the picture,
to advance my company, my baby, well, that trumps common sense. That’s the catch to passion.”

“Oh, there’s far more than one catch to passion.”

“Is there?”

“Yes, passion is extremely selfish. It’s personal. And when fueled, it only becomes hungrier. It demands satisfaction no matter the cost.”

Her eyes were drawn to his lips now. To the way he spoke the words. The way they moved. She knew how expert they were. How adeptly they could awaken her body.

Passion, just like he was saying, only grew hungrier the more it was fed. Apparently that was true of physical passion, too.

She had limited to no experience with that.

Another thing she kept quiet. Another thing she didn’t advertise because, OMG as if she wasn’t enough of a geek, she was also still a virgin. At twenty-five. her only experience had been violent, painful. She was so thankful it had stopped before he’d managed to rape her, because she knew that had been his intent. But even so, it had crippled her confidence with the opposite sex, no matter how much she liked to pretend it didn’t.

Maybe that was why she said yes to dates with guys who only wanted her money. Because they were nonthreatening. Because they wouldn’t want her.

Even without having a lot of experience with passion, passion that went beyond sci-fi and fantasy films, she could feel the truth of his words. Oh, boy, could she feel them. The shivery feeling was back with a vengeance.

“Is that…I mean, is that so bad when both parties involved are…passionate about the same thing?” She cleared her throat and stumbled on. “You and…and me for example. With the business stuff, I mean. So, I’m very passionate about the Barrows deal and you’re…well, you want it, and while we both
want it for how it benefits us, in the end, my passion will benefit you and vice versa.”

“That’s nice when it happens, but in my life, what I have seen is that the one with the most power ends up taking control of the game. And you don’t want to be the one out of control.”

“So, summation, in Ferro world, control trumps passion.”

“Every time,
cara.”

“But control doesn’t help you think of cool games. Check and mate.”

He laughed, a sound that seemed pulled from him, as though he wasn’t used to it. But she’d heard him laugh a few times. She didn’t know why this one seemed different. More genuine.

“I cannot argue with your logic. On that point.”

“Great.”

Their salmon appeared a few minutes later, with wine, which Julia was very happy to see, all things considered.

They ate in silence for a while, both of them enjoying the view of the lake, which was still brilliant and bright despite the late hour, thanks to the Alaskan summer.

She flashed back to her presentation, nearly two weeks ago now. and she laughed.

“What?” he asked, looking up from his dinner.

“Well,” she said, straightening, “two weeks ago you crashed my presentation and I wanted to kill you, cheerfully, with whatever object was readily available. And now, here we are, sitting across from each other, and I have a knife to my right and I don’t even want to use it on you.”

“We have come a long way.”

“Indeed.” She took a bite of her rice pilaf. “You almost seem civilized.”

“Don’t make that mistake, Julia,” he said.

“Why? You don’t want to have to live up to my expectations?”

“I don’t want you to have expectations that are impossible to have met. Don’t forget, when this is over, all bets are off. And this experience, you and me, it’s not off-the-record. I’m going to remember everything you say to me. Every weakness you show. Every secret you betray. And I will use it against you.”

“You’ve been nothing but honest with me, Ferro. For your sins, you aren’t a liar. So I believe you,” she said, her throat tightening, aching. Strange. “No worries.”

Maybe because he was so determined to not have a moment of connection with her. Maybe because she was starting to feel a connection, however strange, with him.

Something about him certainly touched her, reached deep in her and made her feel things—want things—that she hadn’t really given a lot of thought to wanting in a long time.

What? More kissing? More than kissing? With him? That would be really stupid
.

Also, though, really delicious. Wow, she needed help. Professional grade help.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

She nodded. Except if they left, they were going to be back in the hotel room. Alone. Together.

“Maybe,” she said, “maybe we could go…hike?”

“At nine o clock?”

“It’s light out.”

“Bears?”

“Oh. Right. Well, I don’t really want to run into any bears.”

“I didn’t think you would.” She sucked in a breath. “Okay. The room then.”

Ferro put some bills down on the table. “Since you’re paying for our accommodations.”

“Noble of you,” she said, her stomach tightening. Why was
she reacting like this? It was pathetic. She was strung so tight it was unbelievable. “Oh!” She remembered her pajama situation and nearly panicked. “Um, I will meet you at the room.”

“Okay.” He shrugged and turned to go, leaving her there.

She breathed out a long, slow gust of air then headed in the direction of the gift shop. She would get sweats. And then she wouldn’t feel quite so out of place and thrown off with Ferro staying in her room. Maybe. Probably not. But it was worth a shot.

Ferro reclined on the couch, his eyes on the sky, still illuminated at eleven. Julia had disappeared to take a shower a half hour before, and he was simply lying there, thinking far too much.

Not so much about her naked body beneath the hot spray of water, but of why he shouldn’t think of it.

He was allowing the shame to do its job, to be the reminder he needed for why he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to feeling attraction for her.

He wasn’t just stopping himself from acting, he was stopping himself from wanting.

It was something he was quite accomplished at. He’d learned, early on, to master his body by thinking the right things. Dwelling on the right things. To become aroused when it was needed, to shut it down when it kept him safe.

The bathroom door opened and light spilled into the room in a thin line, that widened until he saw Julia. She was wearing sweats. Gray and baggy and low on her hips, and a black T-shirt with writing on it.

Her hair was captured in a towel on her head.

He tried to remember if he’d ever seen a woman dressed so casually. He had never had a lover. Not a real lover. He’d had clients. Women who paid to be with him. Who paid for him to be their fantasy. And they had their vanity. For him,
they were always overly made up, in stiff corsets attempting to defy gravity and nature. As if he had cared. As if there was any way to make the act, or them, more palatable.

Again, he was struck by Julia’s softness. Softness she tried so hard to hide. But it was there, even though it was buried deep. And it fascinated him.

She unwound the towel and threw it back into the bathroom, shaking out her wet hair. It hung, stringy and wavy down her back. She walked to the bed and jumped into the middle of it, pulling her tablet computer from her bag and firing it up, illuminating her face with the bright screen.

She stuck headphones in her ears and started tapping at the screen furiously. Playing a game, he figured, especially when a tiny grunt of frustration escaped her lips.

He couldn’t help but smile. That passion she was such an advocate for. It was quite something to witness. Beautiful.

She
was beautiful. He realized it with a jolt, realized that he wasn’t simply observing her beauty as though she were a sunset. But that he felt her beauty. That he wanted to touch it. Possess it.

It was such a strange, sharp ache. A longing that went deep. Something he was sure he must have felt before, but it seemed lost. In a different part of his life. Maybe in a different man. A different man than he’d become.

“What are you playing?”

She startled, her head popping up, her eyes wide. She pulled her headphones off.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said, hand on her chest.

“No. Sorry.”

“So you were just…skulking. In the shadows.”

“I’m lying on the couch, I’m hardly skulking.”

“Lurker.”

He laughed. Strange how she made him laugh. Normally he chose to laugh, just like he chose to smile. It wasn’t involuntary.
It wasn’t spontaneous or heartfelt. But she actually pulled something from him. A reaction.

One he couldn’t control, which made him slightly concerned. Resentful, even. That this woman, who was so much a girl in many ways, had this power over him. And yet, something in him also wanted to tempt it. To take it to the edge and see what happened. It was tempting. So very tempting.

How long since anything had excited him? Since anything had made him feel heat beneath his skin.

He was tired of being cold.

And that was his very sad reality. That no matter how warm and opulent his surroundings, he never warmed up inside.

“Guilty,” he said. “I was just admiring your choice of attire.”

“You won’t even believe what Thad packed for me.”

“Your assistant?”

“Yes. He had, well, he had sexy times on his mind so he packed me some…uh…well, not my sweats. But the gift shop accommodated me.”

“I like the sweats,” he said.