The Couple who Fooled the World (8 page)

BOOK: The Couple who Fooled the World
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Lace, silk, would not have been as compelling. Because right now, Julia was a woman as he had never seen one. Clean, bare in so many ways. Her armor reduced to nothing.

How easy it would be now, to say the right words. To go from the couch to her bed. A kiss that would turn into two kisses. Which would turn into more. He could touch her softness, feed on her heat.

A shudder went through his body. He
wanted
it. Wanted her. Wanted her body.

The realization of what he was planning, of what he was allowing himself to want, stopped him cold.

Someday, yes, he would take a lover. He had left it far too
long. But it wouldn’t be this woman. Not now. He would not under these circumstances.

He could see it in his head.

Your body in exchange for your company. I let Anfalas live without ever tasting interference from me. All I need in return is you. At my command. For my pleasure
.

He could do that. Stop all the digging he’d been doing in her company, stop looking for weaknesses to exploit. Offer her payment. And claim her body as his reward.

And he would have become the very thing he hated. Trading favors. Taking advantage.

No. He would not allow it. He would not give himself the pleasure. Would not put himself through the hell.

He had very little soul left. It cost to get where he was. And what remained was scarred beyond repair. But he would not surrender the rest.

His body throbbed with heat, tormented him with a taste of what could be.

No. Passion was the road to destruction. It was only through control that he would ever find satisfaction. That he would ever be able to find some sort of answer, some sort of peace, for the torment inside him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

J
ULIA WOKE UP
groggy and twitchy. Room sharing with Ferro was proving to be extremely problematic. First off, the man slept in his underwear. Which she hadn’t noticed when he’d gone to sleep on the couch, he’d laid down before she had, and had been covered with a blanket.

But then, he’d gotten up before her and the sound of him getting out of bed had woken her up, and she’d opened her eyes just in time to see him, his bare, muscular back and his butt, oh, dear heaven, his butt, in nothing but a pair of stretchy black briefs that hugged the contours of his body in such a way that there were no longer very many secrets between them, disappearing into the bathroom.

Then he’d exited the restroom, not dressed, and giving her a clear outline of the rest of his…secrets, in addition to sculpted abs and chest, dusted with just the perfect amount of dark hair.

He was like a walking female fantasy, conjured from her most base desires. A real man, with hair and muscles and all the good things that came with a healthy dose of testosterone.

She’d never craved those things before, not at a real visceral level, not like the sight of him made her crave them.

Because she didn’t let herself. She hated to admit it. She liked to pretend that Michael, that the assault, didn’t matter in a sexual context. Because in her head she knew sex
wasn’t like that. She knew that most men wouldn’t hurt her like that. She knew it.

But a part of her didn’t truly believe it. And avoiding sex, and men who wanted it, was so much easier than dissecting how she felt.

So, since guys were hardly beating down her bedroom door, it had been easy to let it go and simply fantasize in private when any needs arose. It was safe that way. She didn’t have to depend on anyone. She didn’t have to trust anyone.

That was the big one.

But Ferro was making her wonder if it was worth the risk to have contact with a body like that. He wouldn’t hurt her, or force her. She knew that much.

And hey, maybe he liked her, too. He had kissed her, after all, and he had to have felt something.

Not that she
liked him
liked him. She just thought he was hot. Totally different from
liking
him. She wasn’t a dumb girl with a crush. She was a woman. With needs. She wanted to ravish him, not date him.

She pushed her chicken breast across her plate with her fork. It was time for lunch and the wedding was starting in just a couple of hours. And rather than thinking of her employee on her special day, all she could think about was Ferro’s muscles. Pathetic. Completely pathetic.

She didn’t even like the man. Except she was almost starting to.

But she didn’t really know him. She knew that. She really did. And yet, she couldn’t seem to remember when she was with him. When she was with him, she bought into the smiles. The laughter.

She was seriously pathetic.

Ferro had skipped the lunch, citing work related issues, and that was just fine with her, because she needed the break.

A Ferro break. Wow, she remembered the days, sweet,
recent days, when a Ferro break was just needed because she couldn’t deal with his pranks and smugness and general jerkishness.

Now she needed a Ferro break so her neglected hormones could calm down and stop panting after him for attention. Not happening. Nope.

Because if she gave in to this weird, crazy desire for him it would ruin…it would ruin…nothing. Absolutely nothing. She didn’t like him. He didn’t like her. They were rivals bent on taking each other down and right now they were on nothing more than a temporary break from trying to obliterate each other professionally.

So sleeping with him would destroy absolutely nothing. They had no chance at a relationship anyway. She didn’t even want one with him.

Her realization almost made her dizzy.

Except, she wasn’t really the sort of woman who would sleep with a guy she knew she wasn’t going to end up with. Was she?

But she also couldn’t see ever trusting someone enough to have an actual relationship. And she knew she didn’t want to be used for her money, and guys that were just after her for what she could buy them? Those guys were easy to deny. They were ineffective and basically sexless in her eyes.

But Ferro? Ferro didn’t want her money. If he wanted to sleep with her then he would at the very least really want her and not just her status.

Heck, her status meant nothing to him. And anyway, they were already using each other to get a business deal, sans sex, so the using would be physical using, which, as long as she went into it eyes wide-open…

Her mother would be so disappointed in her.

She bit her lip. She’d been taught to treat her body, sex, like it was special.

But Her mother had paid for the date who had tried to take her virginity from her. Who had ruined, yeah, she would admit it, the way she saw sex for a really long time. So what did it matter? Her mother had never known what was best for her.

All that aside, what did she have to lose? She was hardly wife and mother material anyway. Maybe, for her, a steamy affair would be the best she could do.

An affair with her enemy. Now why did that excite her more than it repelled her?

She looked up when a man sat down at her table. Blond, handsome. Not handsome in the same devastating way as Ferro, but not unpleasant, either. Maybe that was the answer. Another man. A more sensible man. And they were in public, safe. Maybe he would be a more sensible choice. A man who could answer this sensual need she seemed to be developing but who wasn’t quite as full-on as Ferro.

And, you know, not someone she classified as an enemy.

“Hi,” she said, smiling, tilting her head to the side and trying to look flirtatious. She’d seen other women do it, she thought she should be able to pull it off. Plus, her boobs looked really good in the dress she was wearing which, really should help capture attention.

“Hi. Julia Anderson, right?”

“Yes,” she said. She didn’t feel breathless, but she tried to sound it because she was pretty sure men liked that. “And you are?”

“David Brown. I saw you sitting here and just had to come over.”

She lifted her shoulder and pushed her arm in, drawing a little attention to her assets. “Really? That’s so nice.”

“I have a product idea that I have to pitch to you.”

After that, her brain just sort of shut down while David, who was looking less and less handsome, started pitching
some half-thought-out idea that didn’t have any basis in current technology, or clearly any understanding of how computers worked. Or any idea that walking up to a woman at a wedding and making a business presentation to her was an automatic no.

She was pretty sure when he finished, she shook his hand and thanked him, smiling and pretending like she wasn’t dying inside.

She was so sick of it. Of the fact that when she was no one, no men talked to her. Because she was gangly and liked computers more than she liked going out. And that now she had money and status good-looking men approached her frequently. That people were nice. That they treated her with deference because she had power.

That they were all liars. That she couldn’t trust anything they said, anything they did. Ferro was a bastard, but he was honest. He wasn’t the kind of guy to act charming until he got you alone.

And there was actually a lot to be said about that.

She looked around the room, around the amazing setting. Would she have been friends with this couple if not for her status? If she didn’t buy people the best rooms in the hotel, would they still want her around?

One thing was certain. If she couldn’t throw money at them, she would have to give something of herself. Open herself up to them. And she didn’t like that idea at all.

Ferro didn’t like her much, he didn’t pretend to. He didn’t want to know her, but he might just want to sleep with her. And she could handle that. At least it was clear-cut. At least it was honest.

Right now she would rather have his brutal honesty than a smile from a sycophant.

An affair with her enemy was sounding less and less stupid.

“You aren’t supposed to wear black to weddings.”

Ferro approached Julia at the reception, a glass of champagne in hand. He’d come in just as the ceremony was starting, after doing some business with China.

Julia turned and his stomach tightened, blood rushing hot and fast through his veins. And he felt it, strong and sure, arousal.

“I have permission,” she said, smiling, her teeth a flash of white against the crimson of her lipstick.

Her blond hair was styled in soft waves, the black dress a simple silhouette that clung tight to her hips and flared out like a bell at her knees, falling softly to the ground from there. But it was the neckline, a plunging V in the front and back, that had his attention.

Her breasts were small, but perfectly formed. And he found himself wondering about them to the point of obsession. Was it due to so many years when his own fantasies had to stay locked inside of himself while he catered to others? So many years spent suppressing desire so he didn’t have to deal with past memories? Was that why it was so strong? Or was it simply Julia?

Forbidden fruit. A temptation he never thought he would be vulnerable to.

Because he had been that for other people and there was no satisfaction there for the object of that kind of lust. It was a selfish desire. It used the other party, until there was nothing left of them. Until they were cold inside.

Unless he made it his mission to satisfy her.
No
.

He would not do it. He was stained by his past, every penny he’d ever spent, every penny multiplied, coming from his deepest shame. His entire empire had been built on his
back, in a near literal sense. He wouldn’t bring it all back. He wouldn’t.

He hated the rumors. That he had seduced wealthy older women out of their fortunes. But he hated the truth more. That he had been their toy. That he had been bought. That his company was built that way. That his legacy was that of a man who had sold cheaply what should only be given.

So he looked away from her figure. Looked at her eyes. Blue. Clear. Reflecting everything he was starting to think she was: innocence. Goodness. All that armor to cover the sweet and vulnerable that was in her.

“Special permission for the wedding’s benefactor?” he asked, handing her the flute of champagne.

She took it, lifted it to her lips, then lowered it. “I’m hardly the benefactor,” she said.

“You paid for everyone’s accommodations. And you also pay the bride’s salary.”

“I don’t give her money for nothing. She’s a darn fine programmer.”

“Do you know all of your employees?”

She shrugged one bare shoulder. “Not all of them. At a company the size of mine, that’s impossible, but then, you know that.”

“I barely know one of mine. Not below a certain tier,” he said.

“How is that possible?”

“I’m not the kind of boss who does walk-throughs of the office and team meetings and wilderness camping trips where we do trust exercises.”

“Oh. I am. I mean, I’ve done those things,” she said.

“Yes, you are a very…you are a nice person.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I don’t know very many nice people.”

“Maybe I’m not that nice, Ferro.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess I’m generous. With money. But not with me. Yeah, I walk through the halls of the office building and I tell everyone good game. I come to their wedding and I buy expensive gifts. But money is so easy to give. It’s a lot harder to give you. To give real friendship.”

“You want people to use you for your money,” he said, the words slipping out.

“I never thought of it that way, but I suppose it’s what I earn, since it’s all I give. Still, human nature being the fickle, hypocritical thing it is, I’ve never cared for being used for my money when I was…trying to make a connection.”

“And men do that to you?”

“Yeah. There are a lot of beautiful women in the world, Ferro, much more beautiful than I am. But there are no women with more money than me. So…doesn’t take a genius to figure out why guys are attracted to me, suddenly.”

“Any man who looks at you and only sees a bank balance is an idiot. How could anyone miss how truly amazing and unique you are?”

Her eyes rounded, his compliment hitting its mark. Except, it had been genuine. He wasn’t trying to seduce. Wasn’t trying to play. Still the words had come out and he knew they had worked. They were drawing her in.

If you want her, you can have her
. No. He wouldn’t.

Still, the temptation burned so hot he was nearly consumed with it. To know what it would be like to take everything he wanted. To explore all her softness. Her innocence.

That was the true shame. It was her innocence, his desire to tear off her armor and expose all that soft sweetness, that called to him and it was those very things that should keep him from ever touching her.

And yet, were she another woman, more jaded, more purposefully seductive, he doubted he would have felt a thing.

It was her differences. The very things that made her forbidden. That was what made her call to him.

“You really think they’re missing something?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, knowing he should stop. Knowing he should cut her down as effectively as he’d just built her up. Something to get her to stop looking at him with those round blue eyes. Looking at him like he was some kind of hero.

“How can everyone have missed it, Ferro?” she asked. “What is it about me? I don’t really go out of my way to hide the good things about myself. Why does everyone see something wrong with me? Why do people just want to take things from me?”

“The truth? I think you’re too smart for most people. You’re intimidating. And it’s clear you wouldn’t be able to connect with someone who isn’t somewhat exceptional. You’re a challenge, and that frightens some men. Or…makes them want to subdue it.” She flinched when he said that. “Also, I think you don’t really want any of the men who haven’t shown interest in you. I think you’re more in control than you think.”

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