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“You? Ferro Calvaresi? You’re playing the maturity card? You just…hijacked my presentation like a…a…pillaging tech pirate and now you’re trying to tell me you’re mature?”
He gave her his most practiced smile, smooth, genuine, a smile no one could find fault with. A smile he never felt at all. “I show the world what I choose to show the world.”
“You think I don’t?”
“I think your armor is thin, cara.”
He expected her to make some sort of snitty denial. Say she didn’t wear armor. She didn’t, and that was to her credit.
“You tell me then,” she said, slowly crossing her arms beneath her breasts, her blue eyes never wavering from his, “what do you think we need to do?”
“We need to make the world believe that all of our hostility has melted away into an attraction, an attachment, that we can’t deny. We need to make them think we’ve fallen head over heels into, if not love, bed.”
“And you think that will work?” She was blushing. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a woman blush. Or anyone for that matter. Everyone he’d ever known had seemed born jaded.
He hadn’t been. He could remember a time when he’d been young. When he’d felt hope. Optimism. Passion.
He’d learned. He’d learned that there were no bonus points for getting through life without mud on your hands. Sometimes you had to get dirty climbing out of the gutter, but at least you were out, even if the filth clung to your skin for the rest of your life. Even if it made you hard and old before your time.
“I know it will.”
“How?”
“The press, the public, are predictable. We show up at a public event, we’ll make headlines around the world. The seed will be planted, when we pitch our design to Barrows, it all suddenly makes sense.”
She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and shifted her weight, one stiletto clad foot out in front of her. “But won’t Hamlin see it coming?”
“Not necessarily. I said it would make sense. I didn’t say it would be predictable. I’m banking on his own ignorance to be his downfall in this. He would never partner with a woman. He’ll assume I won’t, either.”
She chewed her bottom lip, another show of that insecurity she kept concealed by all her hard black clothing. If this were a seduction, he would touch her face now. Just her cheek. Tell her it would be all right. She would respond to that.
He gritted his teeth. “Well? You were quick to remind me you had limited time, Julia. I am a man with many commitments and I can’t stand around waiting for you to make a decision that should be a very easy one to make.”
She extended her hand and he gripped it. She was so petite, fine-boned, her fingers long, slender and clinging to his with a firmness that surprised him. She was indeed a businesswoman.
“You have yourself a deal, Calvaresi.”
“Gratified to hear it, Anderson.”
“We work together on this project,” she said. “No touching that isn’t strictly necessary, no funny ideas about things heating up behind the scenes, and no espionage.”
The espionage happening in her company was well in place, information already being fed to him on a regular basis. And he was sure she’d done the same to him. Fair play during their normal operations.
This agreement changed things. But he imagined as long as he didn’t look at it during the duration of their agreement, it would count as him following the rules. Or maybe not. But he’d never been one for rules. “I think I can handle all of the above.”
“And when it’s over, it’s over. If I have a chance to get you in my crosshairs even thirty seconds after our work together is done, I’ll do it and I’ll pull the metaphorical trigger without hesitation.”
“Back at you,” he said, releasing his hold and dropping his hand back at his side, ignoring the slight burning sensation that skated over his skin.
“Until then, I suppose we have to play nice.”
Ferro smiled, and he watched the color in Julia’s cheeks darken again. “Now that, I can’t promise. I’m not all that nice.”
