Calum kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. Two very successful days were at an end, and he couldn’t help a pinch of sorrow nibbling at his insides. They were headed back to New York in the morning—but did that also mean he and Laurella would return to being at each other’s throats? Since their impromptu truce, they’d worked really well together and secured some useful leads. Even if those leads didn’t come off, they’d made several key contacts, and some influential people had definitely taken notice. Necron’s name wasn’t unknown any longer.

He was on his way to take a shower when his cell rang. He turned back into the bedroom. Jules. With a frown, he answered.

“What’s up?” he asked his second-in-command.

Jules chuckled. “I’m starting to get a complex. One of these days, you’ll sound happy to hear from me.”

“I will sound happy—when you stop bringing me bad news every time you call.”

Jules laughed again. “How did the conference go?”

“Good. We’ve come away with some more leads that we can add to the ones we’re already working on—thanks to Laurella.”

Jules let out a low whistle. “Has the glacier melted?”

“Very funny. I wouldn’t go that far, but we decided to stop fighting over every little thing, and it’s been beneficial both to our working relationship and to Necron.”

“Well, hold on to your hat, because you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

His skin prickled, and he sat on the edge of the bed. “Go on.”

“You know how we’ve always cleared our overstocks through Ben Davies at Weston’s?”

“Yeah.”

Jules hesitated. She heaved a breath—and then dropped the bombshell. “So, he calls me today, saying he’s received an email telling him he can only have half the usual amount—at a fifteen percent increase on the price he normally gets.”

“What?” Calum bellowed. “Who sent the fucking email?”

“Guess.”

Calum clenched his jaw so tightly he could have sworn a tooth cracked. “Laurella.”

“Got it in one, boss.”

I’m going to fucking kill her. She has been the one ranting on about team players and then she goes and does this. If Weston’s decided Necron had reneged on a longtime deal—albeit an informal one—and decided to back out from taking any future overstocks, it’d hit their cash flow badly, not to mention their reputation.

He took a deep breath and held it deep in his lungs. He needed to try to calm down before he self-combusted. After two or three long pulls of air, he’d regained control of the murderous feelings racing through his body.

“What do you want me to do?” Jules said.

“Call Ben. Tell him to ignore the email. Get onto the warehouse and ship the stock. Then get accounts to send him the invoice at his usual price.”

“Got it.” She paused. “Try not to kill her. You’re too pretty to go to prison.”

Despite his utter fury, Calum smiled. Jules knew just what to say to talk him off the ledge. “I can’t promise.”

“I’ll start stockpiling cigarettes, then, and see if I can’t negotiate a cellmate with a small dick.”

Her joke coaxed a laugh from him. “What would I do without you?”

“Try to remember your current gratitude when annual reviews are being discussed. Night, boss. See you tomorrow.”

Calum cut the call and threw his cell on the bed. He stormed into the bathroom and gripped the sides of the sink, staring into the mirror. Rage burned in his eyes, turning them from a warm jade to almost black.

Truce over. Time to make her pay.

Calum knocked at Laurella’s door. He had a plan. It was a cruel one, but he didn’t care. At least, after he’d executed it, she’d think twice about interfering in his business again. He’d best nail the point home with a fucking big hammer.

She opened the door with a bright smile. “Hi. Come on in for a second. I just need to grab my shoes, and then we can go.”

“You look nice.” Calum glanced around her room. It was neat and tidy, unlike his own, which could’ve had a tornado blown through it.

“Thank you.” She slipped her feet into a pair of four-inch heels. They instantly elongated those amazing legs.

He gave her a leisurely once-over. When their eyes finally met, a pink tinge had crept over her cheeks.

“Let’s go,” Calum said, sticking out his arm.

She slipped her hand through, and they walked to dinner in companionable, if false—at least on his part—silence. Once settled in the restaurant, they ordered their food, and Calum put his plan into action, starting with… charm offensive.

“You’ve really impressed me these last two days,” he said. “The contacts we’ve made seem positive, and added to the ones we’re already working on, I’d say you’ve definitely earned your place in the company.”

For the second time that evening, warm color flooded her cheeks, and she dipped her chin, glancing up at him with a shy smile. “Thank you, Calum. It just shows what we can achieve when we work together. I think, in time, we’ll make a great team.”

You won’t be around long enough, sweetheart.

“I agree. I can only apologize for my behavior since you started.” He circled the rim of his wineglass and gazed at her with as much intensity as he could fake. “I’ve been so used to going my own way without having to consider others. I guess it’s been a tough change for me.”

Her eyes softened. “Apology accepted.”

Time for a different subject before he choked on his own lies. “Tell me more about you,” he said, even though his research had already told him most of what he needed to know.

She clutched the pendant on her necklace and zigzagged it back and forth along the chain. “There’s not much to tell, really.”

“Do you have any family?”

She nodded. “Three brothers, two sisters.”

He chuckled. “I thought my family was big.”

“That’s Italians for you. We like our big families.”

“Parents still alive?”

“Yes.”

“And together?”

“Happier than ever,” she said. “My mama is English. She met Papa when she was on vacation in Milan and never left.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and fiddled with a silver stud earring. “You never mentioned your parents when we were chatting the other night.”

“They’re dead,” he said in a flat tone, familiar agony spearing his chest. Close it down, nice and quick. Move on. The last thing he wanted was to let her see his pain and loss. “Car crash. More than twelve years ago. Jax, my eldest brother, brought us up until we were old enough to strike out on our own.”

Wearing a sympathetic expression, she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible for you all.”

Calum shrugged. “Jax is the one who lost the most.”

His clipped responses stopped her questioning him further. Instead, she withdrew her hand, possibly fearing she’d overstepped the mark by touching him. In response, he took it back and folded it between both of his. “What about boyfriends?”

She squirmed a little and tried to pull away. He tightened his grip. When she relaxed, he gently brushed his thumb back and forth across her knuckles.

“No one serious. Not for a while anyway.”

“So there was, once?”

She nodded. “I was engaged to be married, but I was far too young. It worked out as it was meant to in the end.”

Sounds to me like the guy had a lucky escape. “What happened?”

Her answering smile was stiff. “I wasn’t enough for him. Affairs aren’t too out of the ordinary in Italian culture. I anticipated it would happen sooner or later, but I did rather hope he’d at least wait until after we were married.”

A twinge of empathy for her surprised him, but he bit down on that fucker damn quick. She didn’t deserve compassion. She deserved payback. “That’s too bad.”

“Not really. Like I said, I was young. Smitten. Even if I’d gone ahead with the wedding, it wouldn’t have lasted.”

“All the same, not a fun experience.”

She sipped her wine, and the minute she replaced her glass on the table, Calum filled it up.

She giggled. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe.”

That faint flush made another appearance. If he didn’t hate her guts, he might have found it appealing.

“For what purpose?” she asked, her chin slightly curved into her chest from where she looked up at him through long, thick eyelashes.

Calum’s groin tightened. His stupid dick clearly hadn’t gotten the memo. “Maybe I need you to relax.”

She blinked several times. “Again, for what purpose?”

He slowly grinned. “Why do you think, Laurella?”

Before she could respond, their food arrived. Calum didn’t know whether to curse the timing or celebrate it. It couldn’t do much harm to have her chew over how to respond to his question.

She cut into her steak. She had this rather adorable way of holding her fork in her right hand and seesawing at the hunk of meat with her left. It was both awkward and cute. He gave himself a metaphorical slap. Don’t get caught in her web. She’d shown her colors, and they weren’t pretty. She deserved everything coming at her.

“Good?” he asked, nodding at her plate.

Her tongue swept over her full lips. “Delicious.”

Another twinge in his groin. He considered slamming his fist into his crotch, but as that would probably hurt like fuck, he focused on her backstabbing email instead. She hadn’t even mentioned it to him, yet she must have sent it while they’d been at the conference. All this time, she’d been pretending to bury the hatchet. Well, he’d bury the hatchet all right—between her fucking eyes.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s that book you keep on the corner of your desk back at the office?”

“You mean my memory book?” She grinned. “I started it when I got my first job. It’s just things I’ve collected over the years that I find inspirational, bits and pieces of ideas. Could be an article in a magazine or a picture I’ve seen in the subway. Anything I find interesting or inspiring or that might be useful in the future.”

“That’s really cool,” he said.

“Yeah. It means a lot to me. Irreplaceable really.”

“I’m sure,” Calum murmured, the stirrings of a subplot forming in his mind.

When they left the restaurant, Calum caught hold of her hand. He wasn’t sure what her reaction would be, but when she tightened her grip and leaned her head on his shoulder, he internally high-fived himself. Easy pickings.

He led her along the hallway, stopping outside her room. He lifted her purse from her shoulder and removed her key card.

“I’m a little drunk,” she said, giggling.

He dropped her purse on the floor and slipped the key card into his pocket. “I like you drunk.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and when her lips parted in anticipation, he curved a hand around the back of her neck. “Say it, Laurella,” he murmured.

“Kiss me.”

Exactly the words he’d been hoping for. He moved into her body. His hard-as-a-baseball-bat cock played along, a state she couldn’t fail to notice. Hadn’t failed to notice, if the flare in her eyes was anything to go by.

He tugged at her chin, opening her mouth farther. She inclined her head, readying herself for what was to come. He pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue inside the warmth of her mouth. A soft groan eased from her throat. Her hands came around his neck, but instead of allowing her to knit her fingers into his hair, he captured her wrists and pushed her arms over her head. He penetrated her mouth, mirroring the movement of his hips with his tongue.

As fast as he’d begun, he stepped away. Her eyes glistened. He knew desire when he saw it. There was no doubt in his mind that Laurella Ricci wanted him. Time to up the ante.

“What do you want, Laurella?”

“You,” she said, her mouth swollen and glistening from their kissing.

He swept his thumb over her lower lip, removing the moisture. “Tell me more. Be specific.”

“I want you to fuck me,” she said.

He tilted his head to the side and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “What about our professional relationship?”

She tongued her teeth, her gaze sliding over his body. “We’re both adults, Calum. I’m sure a mutually beneficial tussle between the sheets won’t be detrimental to our working relationship. It might even enhance it.”

He suppressed a smile. This was going better than he’d imagined. He removed her key card from his pocket and handed it to her.

“Better open up, then.”

She took it from him, her soft smile full of promise. In a way, it was a shame he wouldn’t get to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Laurella crouched and picked up her purse from where he’d dropped it on the floor, then she opened the door. She stepped a couple of feet inside and turned around. Only then did she realize he hadn’t moved. She crooked her finger.

“Come on, lover.”

Calum breathed in then formed his expression into a cold, hard stare. “I think I’ll pass.”

A quick frown drew her eyebrows low, and then she laughed. “Playing hard to get?”

He sneered, his lip curled with just the right amount of disgust. “Trust me, sweetheart, I’m not playing. I realize you like to use your feminine wiles to seduce men of power, to get them on the back foot. Use sex as a tool to win whatever shitty little game you’re playing. Sadly—for you, that is—I won’t be dipping my wick in your poisonous pussy tonight or any other night.”

A flash of raw pain crossed her face, as though her skin had been peeled back and the nerves exposed to the elements. It gave him a moment of pause—only a moment, though, before he brushed it aside. She’d been caught out—that was all. She hadn’t earned one second of hesitation.

He gripped her chin, forcing her head backward.

She gasped. “What are you doing?”

He loomed over her. “Next time you want to play games, sweetheart, make sure you have a winning hand. Ben Davies is, right now, enjoying our overstock, a deal I’ve done with his company for the last five fucking years. In the future, if you decide to piss off one of our best clients, remember there will be fucking consequences.” He dropped his hand.

She stumbled backward. “This was a play?” she asked in a stunned tone.

“Yeah. What, you thought I actually wanted you? Oh no, sweetheart. What I wanted was to teach you a lesson. Don’t fucking mess with me, because I guarantee you will lose.”

Her face blanched, and she blinked rapidly as though trying to hold back tears. An uncomfortable spasm flared in Calum’s chest. He spun around on his heel and slammed Laurella’s door behind him.