The Couple who Fooled the World Page 4

  Julia did the same, waving at the crowd lining the velvet rope that partitioned the masses from the golden few, hand-selected to enter into the realm of the elite. Very often Ferro felt like he still had more in common with those behind the rope.

  She walked a bit ahead of him, her steps nervous and quick, and that was when he noticed the back of her dress, or rather, the lack of it, for the first time. It was cut low and wide, a swath of white skin on show from her shoulder blades down to the indent of her back, just above the curve of her butt.

  It was the shock of it that made him want to touch. He was sure of that. He was a man far too jaded by his past to be aroused by a wedge of skin. Far too jaded to allow himself to be aroused at all, unless it was late at night and he needed a sleep aid. And yet, he found that he was. That fascinated him nearly as much as her exposed skin.

  “Slow down,” he said, pulling her back to his side.

  “Sorry,” she said, a smile still plastered on her face. “Nervous.”

  “Don’t be. Just remember, they’re all here to see you. You’re the one in the enviable position. You’re beautiful. Successful. Everyone out there would love to be here. They would trade places with you in a heartbeat.” The words came, easy and without much thought or sincerity. He was good at giving compliments. At giving women exactly what they desired.

  At keeping his mind somewhere else entirely, even while he gave all of his body. A perfect disconnect.

  Her smile altered subtly, became more genuine. “That was a nice thing to say.”

  “It’s true,” he said, without pausing to think if it really was.

  “Ferro! Julia!”

  Julia’s head whipped around in the direction of her name. She noticed that Ferro kept his movements much less spastic, kept his emotions better hidden. But she was having a much harder time with it. She’d trained herself to keep her reactions and emotions much more veiled than this, but she’d never been to a movie premiere before. And this movie premiere was a fangirl paradise, which, she admittedly was.

  Back before she’d decided being herself wasn’t worth the pain, she would have been lining the streets with the crowd. Probably wearing some kind of Space Fleet Academy uniform.

  The flashbulbs were directed at them now and she just smiled and hoped, feverishly, that she didn’t have leftovers from lunch in her teeth or a false eyelash stuck to her cheek or anything similarly horrifying.

  Ferro, for his part, was immaculate in his dark suit and tie, short hair in perfect order. The man simply never looked anything less than composed and pressed. She’d bet he didn’t go home and put on a gigantic sweater and yoga pants after a long day of work. He probably wore a black silk robe and…nothing underneath.

  She nearly choked.

  “Are you on a date?” one of the reporters shouted over The din.

  Ferro simply smiled and said, “If you have to ask, perhaps I’m doing it wrong.”

  Jeez. The man oozed charm. She’d never seen him not at ease. Even when she’d pulled off her great OnePhone caper and messed with his product launch, his public face had remained completely smooth.

  “Julia, any comments?”

  “We better be. I don’t want to have to pay for my own dinner.” That earned her some laughter and she was gratified that she’d managed a witty response. Especially since half of her brainpower was being used up to focus on the heat that was coursing from her palm, where Ferro was holding her hand, up her arm, to her breasts, making her nipples, of all things, tingle a little bit.

  Ferro waved and she did the same, and they walked on, into the ornate theater where they were ushered to their seats. Ferro released her as soon as they were in the dark.

  And again, Julia felt like she was in danger of getting whiplash from the recognizable faces surrounding them. “I think that’s—”

  “Don’t stare, Julia, it’s rude.”

  She shot Ferro a deadly glare he probably couldn’t see in the darkness. “Sorry. I forgot we were being blasé.” And she shouldn’t have forgotten. Anything else was way too revealing and embarrassing.

  “You’ll get to the point where you don’t have to remember. Trust me.”

  “You think?” she asked, looking sideways at him in the dark.

  “I know. You’re lucky life hasn’t knocked it out of you yet.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “You have no idea what life has taken from me,” she said. For the second time in the same day, she thought back to that long-ago prom night. Why was she thinking about it so much? She never thought about it. She’d moved on from it. She was fine. Bruises healed. And the stuff that didn’t? It had helped her realize that you had to be strong. It had been when she’d stopped trying to fit in, when she’d stopped being so afraid to be unusual. She’d just started owning it then. And it had been the key to her success.

  She wasn’t sending out any thank-you cards to the jackass who’d assaulted her, but she wasn’t wallowing, either.

  “I’d venture to say you know less about mine than you think you do, Julia,” he said, his words darker than the theater.

  “I read the bio,” she said.

  He chuckled, a sound that lacked humor and warmth. “As I said, you know less about me than you think. Just because it’s in print, doesn’t mean it’s the whole truth.”

  The End of the Tech World As We Know It?

  The headline screamed up at Julia from the newspaper, just delivered to her tablet. Ferro was already in her office, sitting in the chair in front of her desk like he had every right to be there.

  “Not exactly the headline we anticipated,” he said.

  “Ya think?” She skimmed the article, her stomach sinking. “Either a sharp blow to progress or a cheap publicity stunt,” she read out loud.

  “Because if we’re sleeping together we won’t be competing, and if we aren’t competing, will we be on our game?”

  “I have a lot of words rolling around in my head right now and they’re all filthy,” she said, standing up and pacing up and down in front of her office window. “What are we going to do? It’s everywhere. It’s trending on Twitter. There’s a Facebook page, Calvaresi, a freaking Facebook page devoted to…what are they calling us?” She leaned in and skimmed the article again. “JulErro. For the love of Darth.”

  “And for everyone rooting for this little enemies-to-lovers tale…”

  “There are just as many rooting for us to go down in flames. This…this is a lot bigger than we anticipated, isn’t it?”

  Ferro wished he could say he’d anticipated just this, but the simple fact was, social media was hard to anticipate. The press was one thing, the civilian-run news machine? Something else entirely. And the simple truth was, this had gone way outside the tech world, thanks to the internet, which was run by the masses. Who were entirely unpredictable.

  “Yes,” he said. “It is.”

  The feeling of claustrophobia he felt now, the feeling of being trapped, he didn’t like it. A trap of his own making. And it wasn’t the first one he’d ever been in. He knew all about this. About going so far down a road there was no way to turn back. That you just had to push through, keep going, because you’d gone too damn far.

  “Fine,” she said, continuing to pace. “We continue on, and we make it the biggest spectacle ever. And when we blow it up, we make it huge. The biggest media explosion ever. And we’ll always be more interesting after this. Think about it, when you hijack another one of my presentations, just think how newsworthy it will be when we’re exes? Hypothetically. Don’t hijack one of my presentations again.”

  Julia might be wearing armor, but she was a tough woman. Smart. Brilliant even. “Of course,” he said, “we’ll be expected to spend a lot of time together. A lot. The visibility is too high. We’re going to have to give them something to talk about, because if we don’t…if we get caught in this…”

  “We’re in trouble.”

  “Putting it mildly.”

  “Okay…okay…
what’s the plan then?”

  “There’s a charity event tonight. I was planning on skipping it and writing a check, but I think we should make an appearance, don’t you? As a couple.”

  Julia looked like she was going to say something, but she hesitated.

  “Come on, Julia,” he said. “Don’t wimp out now.”

  “I’m not wimping out!”

  “Then why do you look like a deer caught in the headlights?”

  “Because the other day we were sworn enemies and if I never had to see you in person it suited me just fine. Now…two outings with you in a row? I could live without that.”

  “Maybe this is why tech, and business in general, is traditionally a man’s game,” he said, not meaning a word he was saying but knowing it would give Julia the kick she needed. “Maybe it’s because women are too ruled by emotion.”

  He knew it wasn’t true. Because he’d been…he didn’t even know what to call it. Shaped, molded, by women who hadn’t cared what their actions meant to the emotions of a teenage boy. He’d spent years surrounded by women who saw people only as pawns. People of both genders were more than capable of acting based on selfish desire. Of using people to meet their ends.

  But his words would push Julia. He knew it. Knew it was a hot button for her.

  “Are you saying I can’t do this?” she asked.

  “You’re the one who looks like she has a problem. I’m willing to make this work. Are you? Or are you just giving me lip service here?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to ignore the potential double entendre there.”

  “If it suits you.”

  “Fine. You have yourself a date for tonight. Ferro?”

  “Yes?”

  “Uh…what’s the charity?” He had a feeling that wasn’t the question she’d intended to ask.

  “For homeless youths.”

  “Great. I’ll bring my checkbook.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  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.
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br />   “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.