Calum scanned the restaurant, searching for Laurella. He couldn’t see her. She must not have made it down for breakfast yet. He slipped into a booth with a view of the entrance and ordered coffee and juice. As the waitress brought his drinks over, he spotted Laurella chatting to the greeter. She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail, leaving her long, elegant neck bare. It gave her a younger look, one he found extremely appealing.

He raised his hand and pointed to the spare seat opposite. He wouldn’t have put it past her to go sit somewhere else but, ever the professional, she headed on over.

“Good morning,” she said, the politeness in her tone setting his teeth on edge.

“Coffee?” he asked.

She nodded.

He signaled to the waitress then turned his attention back to Laurella. “All set for today?”

“I am,” she said. “Not sure about you, though. You seem a little tired, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Calum scowled. “I’m fine.”

“Late night?” She stared at him innocently, but the minutest curve to her lips gave her away.

“Carry on like that, Laurella, and I’ll think you’re jealous.”

She snorted. “Of you and that woman you picked up? Hardly.”

“If you’re not jealous, why are your cheeks flushed?”

“I wasn’t aware they were.” She fanned her face with the menu. “It is a little warm in here.”

Her calm demeanor increased his irritation. He wanted to get a rise out of her, to have that fiery Italian temper aimed in his direction. Her casual indifference would soon wear thin.

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table. “You don’t fool me, sweetheart. You can lie to yourself but not to me. You virtually turned green last night when I left with Vonny.” He grinned. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you scream like I did with her.”

She laughed, the sound brittle and tinged with derision. “Not even if you were the last man on Earth. You may think you’re God’s gift, but I prefer my men a little more humble and a lot more self-aware.”

He opened his mouth to respond but was curtailed when the waitress brought Laurella’s coffee.

“Can I get this to go?” Laurella asked her.

“Sure thing,” the waitress replied. “I’ll be back in two.”

Laurella stood. With her fingers pressed to the table, she bent forward, showing the merest hint of cleavage. He lowered his gaze before dragging it back up to her face.

“Enjoy the view,” she said. “It’s the closest you’ll ever get. So, before we head into the day, let me make one thing clear: I’m not interested.”

Calum leaned away and draped his arm across the back of the booth. He looked her up and down while tonguing his teeth then lifted his eyes to hers. “Say it enough times, and you might even convince yourself. But you won’t convince me, sweetheart.”

With a frustrated huff, Laurella set off after the waitress. Calum grinned to himself. He loved getting the last word. He’d won that battle. Bring on the next.

Her stomach rumbled, forcing Laurella to grab a pastry from the deli in the lobby. She would have liked something a little more filling, especially as it might be the last thing she ate before dinner. Calum had ruined that plan. The worst of it, though, was that he’d been right. She was jealous. Not that she’d ever admit such a thing. Hell would freeze over first. Calum’s high opinion of himself did not need any stroking from her.

She returned to her room, grabbed her notebook, and headed down to the conference room, thinking she might as well get an early start. It was never too soon to begin networking. With any luck, she’d avoid Calum for as long as possible.

The large room was set up classroom style. Laurella entered, spotting a couple of other people milling about. She wasn’t the only early bird, then. She introduced herself, glad to have someone to stand with while she waited for the conference to begin.

The room rapidly filled up. Laurella sat beside the people she’d already introduced herself to. Still no sign of Calum. Well, too bad. There weren’t any seats left near her, so he’d have to sit elsewhere. She wasn’t complaining.

A glance at the schedule showed that the first speaker was someone she couldn’t wait to hear. Daryl Hudson was CEO of an online clothes company that he’d started from scratch. Even though Necron operated in a very different field, she could still learn a lot from his perspective on growth. Daryl, too, had begun his career in marketing, and she was hoping that by listening to the lecture, Calum might at least begin to understand that having a robust and growth-focused marketing strategy was key to taking Necron from a small to a medium-sized business. Without that type of game plan, they’d be unlikely to achieve their goals.

She reached for the water and unscrewed the bottle top. A cool finger trailed across the back of her neck. She jumped, spilling the water all over her notebook.

“Oh, shoot,” she said, dabbing the soaked paper with a napkin. She glanced over her shoulder and scowled. Calum! “What are you doing?”

“I got us seats over there.” He pointed across the room.

“I’m fine here, thank you.”

Calum reached over her shoulder and picked up her notebook and pen. He walked away without saying another word. Damn the man. She had two choices: either stalk after him and snatch her stuff back, or meekly follow and look like a complete pushover. Actually, strike that. She only had one choice—and Calum knew it. Murmuring apologies to the person sitting next to her, she gathered her purse and bottle of water and trudged across the room.

Calum ignored her as she sat beside him, choosing instead to chat with the woman on his right. He murmured something under his breath, and the woman giggled, her body automatically leaning toward his. Laurella gritted her teeth. She had to hand it to him—Calum could turn on the charm when he wanted. She was the only one who seemed to feel his wrath.

After the initial presentations were over, the first breakout session began. Now, this was the main reason she’d wanted to come to this event—the chance to network, to swap thoughts and ideas, and to learn from others. She slipped away while Calum was deep in conversation with his seat neighbor. Probably negotiating the route into her panties, Laurella thought uncharitably.

She joined a group of marketers, and soon they were sharing their experiences. There was a broad mix. Some worked at companies such as Necron—up-and-coming small and medium-sized enterprises—and others at the large conglomerates. But the one thing they all had in common was regular conflict with the sales department.

“I got on fairly well with the sales director at my last place,” Laurella said to a young guy standing to her left who was having a particularly bad time. “It’s been my experience that sales teams are like abusive spouses. When things are tough, they want to blame, to take it out on the marketing department, to beat up on them. But when they want something, they’re as sweet as pie.”

“That’s an interesting concept,” an all-too-familiar voice drawled behind her. She inwardly groaned as Calum muscled his way into the gathering. His arm brushed hers, and she thought about stepping to the side, but that would have meant getting far too close and personal with the man on her left. “Calum Brook,” he said, layering on a charming smile. “The abusive spouse.”

A guy standing across from her sniggered. Deciding it was time to find a new bunch of friends, Laurella stepped away. She didn’t get far, though. Calum’s hand shot out, and he gripped her elbow, holding her firmly in place.

“It’s been my experience,” he said, parroting Laurella’s words, “that sales teams are hunters. They’re agile predators who act fast, bring home the prize, and then quickly move on to the next kill. Whereas marketers”—he turned to Laurella with a devious grin—“are much more interested in setting a trap and simply hoping their prey takes the bait.”

A few people snorted with laughter, which, considering Calum had basically insulted their profession, showed once more how he could charm a snake when the mood took him.

“As fascinating as that theory is, Calum,” Laurella said, her tone dripping sweetness, “the fact remains that without marketing, the sales department wouldn’t have any prey to hunt.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said. “I found plenty of prey to hunt before I met you. And I had a lot of fun pursuing them, too.”

His double entendre wasn’t lost on her. The man even had the gall to wink. Laurella managed to free herself from his grip in a subtle way without drawing any extra looks from the group, who were already watching the exchange between her and Calum with barely veiled fascination.

“How lovely for you,” she murmured. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She stepped away, half expecting Calum to follow, but instead, he simply turned his back and carried on chatting as though the spiky interchange hadn’t happened at all.

With her heart pummeling against her ribcage, Laurella headed outside for a breath of fresh air. She sat on a bench right by the front entrance, her chin trembling with suppressed anger. She’d hoped that by being away from the confines of the office in New York, she and Calum might find a way to work together, but it seemed that particular hope was little more than a pipe dream. He was toying with her, and she didn’t have a clue about how to fight back. She’d faced worse than him, so why did he get to her so much? How did he burrow beneath her skin and lay his poison, making her throat burn and her hands inadvertently form into fists?

“There you are.”

She lifted her chin, shielding her eyes from the sun. Calum wandered over and sat beside her. He handed her a coffee. Their fingers brushed as she took it from him, sending an unwanted shiver down her spine.

“Thank you.” She peeled off the plastic lid, the welcome smell of coffee tickling her nostrils. For a second, she considered throwing it all over Calum’s pristine white shirt. It would serve him right for the way he’d behaved. Instead, she blew on the hot liquid and sipped, her attention locked on a point in the distance.

“I know I’m a bastard,” he said, drawing her gaze to him.

“Yes. You are.”

“How about a cease-fire?” he said.

She eyed him with suspicion. “What’s brought this on?” When he shrugged one shoulder but didn’t answer her, she added, “For how long?”

His genuine laugh made something funny happen to her insides. She didn’t like the sensation one bit.

“At least until the conference is over or you do something to piss me off. Whichever comes first.”

“And what if you do something to piss me off?”

He clasped a hand to his chest. “Me? Never.”

Despite her deep-seated irritation with her nemesis, her lips twitched, but as she gazed into his green eyes, the bright sunshine highlighting flecks of gold around the edge of his irises, a tremor sent shockwaves through her body. She recognized the sensation, of course. Lust. Desire. Longing. Any of those words would suffice. But she could not let the bane of her life know her innermost feelings. They were hers and hers alone. She needed to concentrate on how he made her working life a misery. That should be more than enough to keep the unwanted hankering at bay.

“I guess we should go back in,” she said.

“You sound almost disappointed.” Calum grinned. When she scowled, he gave her shoulder a playful nudge. “Kidding, Ricci.”

His jokey manner by using her surname was so different from the Calum she’d come to know, warmth flooded her body, and her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Oh hell. What do I do now?