CHARITY 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.
The chill that came over him now wasn’t anything like what she’d seen of him before. It seemed more real. And a whole lot scarier.
“Right, well, me, either. High school basically sucked. I had braces and zits and these really thick glasses…”
“Sounds like it was tough,” he said, clearly not of the opinion that it was. “But it’s time to go.”
But he had no idea. No idea what it was like to feel like an outsider, not just in school, but at home. To have your mother pay a guy behind your back to be your date. And to have that date…that date that still had a twenty from your mom in his wallet, try to force you into sex, then hit you when you said no.
No, he didn’t know about that. And he didn’t need to. It didn’t matter anyway. Because now she understood, understood that normal wasn’t so shiny and perfect. That normal and “functional” didn’t really mean anything at all. Because somehow everyone had thought that a guy who would try to rape his date was normal, while those same people were convinced something was wrong with her.
It hadn’t left her with much confidence in people.
She nodded slowly and he looped his arm through hers. They went back into the ballroom and she felt like all eyes were on them, which they doubtlessly were. They’d just very conspicuously gone out to the balcony for fifteen minutes, and now Ferro was rushing them through the crowd at a speed that spoke of urgency.
Oh, yes, they had earned the stares.
She’d never been big in the dating scene, so it was an interesting experience being on the arm of a guy like Ferro.
Well, since becoming a billionaire she’d had more than a few guys after her, but they were all the same. Gorgeous, dumb, lazy and in possession of very little knowledge of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. In short, totally worthless to her.
But they didn’t count. They didn’t even have the decency to want her for her body. Just her money. And that wasn’t exactly a turn-on.
Of course, her for-show kiss with Ferro should not have been a turn-on, but darned if she wasn’t just a little on the turned-on side of things. Pulse racing, breasts aching. Yeah, turned on, for sure.
She hoped her heated cheeks weren’t as pink as she was imagining them, and followed Ferro out of the ballroom and to the front of the hotel, where his limo was already waiting.
“Nice work, Calvaresi—texted your driver did you?”
“I have an app that lets me send down a brief alert when I need to be picked up. It even gives my location to the driver. Just in case over the course of the evening I wind up in a different place than where he dropped me off.”
She got in, and Ferro slid in beside her. “Oh, like if you bar hop or something?”
His smile turned naughty. “Or something.”
Oh. Yes. That. The going back to a random hotel with a random woman. Strange, considering the reputation Ferro had as a legendary lover, that he wasn’t actually photographed with women all that often.
She frowned. “Right.”
“Now, don’t look jealous, cara, those other women, they meant nothing.” He wasn’t being sincere. He wasn’t even trying to look sincere, and yet her body, her heart, which, she swore skipped a beat, didn’t seem to care.
She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. All the better to keep from reaching out and touching him again. “It’s almost frightening how full of crap you are.”
“Excuse me?”
“The smile.” She punctuated that with a wide, cheesy grin of her own. “The pickup lines. You’re very good at it, Ferro. It’s easy to forget that it’s all a show and you’re just a big empty husk of a man with no heart and no soul.”
“Ah, you see right through me,” he said, still smiling, still looking at her like she was the only woman on earth. “I would advise you to remember the words you just said to me, because you may need them later. I am a man with little in the way of a conscience and it would do you well to keep that in mind.”
“Don’t worry, Ferro, I won’t forget. I’m not in the habit of trusting men. Anyone, really. I won’t lapse with you.”
But with his dark eyes trained on hers, and the impression of his mouth still burned into her lips, she was afraid that if she didn’t watch herself, she would be tempted to forget. Just so she could enjoy the fantasy of the man.
Because the fantasy of him was more compelling than any reality she’d had yet, at least in terms of kissing and desire.
But the important thing to remember was that it was a fantasy. Was that this was a tentative alliance at best. And that when all of the deceit was stripped away, when this night was nothing more than a memory, Ferro Calvaresi was her deadliest enemy.
And that was much more important than a kiss. No matter how scorching.