The Couple who Fooled the World. Maisey Yates

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.