“That depends on what you think it is. Perhaps you should open it.”
She shot him a look that could only be described as annoyed and reached out, taking the box in her hands. She cracked open the lid and for nearly a full second her expression was blank. Tellingly so. It was very difficult to describe the shift that took place between the look on Victoria’s face when she was genuinely at a loss, and the look that appeared when she was trying to make others believe that she was blasé. A subtle softening in her eyes, an added tension around her mouth. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.
By the time she looked up at him she was in full control again. “I told you I don’t care for colored diamonds.”
“But it suits you. I made an executive decision.”
She arched a brow. “It suits me? Or was it just the most convenient diamond?”
A smile curved his lips. “Does it really matter? I’ve made the decision. This is your ring.”
“So that’s how this is going to be?”
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Ms. Calder. You might have come to me, but the moment I agreed it became my game. I do like a challenge, but I also like to win.”
She smiled brightly, so brightly that he knew it was false. “That may be a problem, because I like to win, too.” She tilted her head to the side, her expression taking on a mock thoughtfulness. “I did a bit of research on your mentor. He was from New Orleans. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” he said.
Her expression shifted slightly yet again, and this time the smile seemed more genuine. “Good. That’s an excellent venue for charity. And a location people enjoy traveling to. Also, it will appeal to the local moneyed class.” He could see her mentally tallying everything up, valuing it.
“You are terrifying. Has anyone ever told you that before?”
“Oh yes.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve been told that on many occasions. But I don’t like to be idle, and I don’t see the point wasting time—do you?”
“I told you I wanted this rolled out as quickly as possible. Obviously I don’t see the point in wasting time. In fact, on that note I have already been in touch with the press to let them know that you and I have decided to marry.”
Her pale brows shot upward. “Well, excellent.”
“You seem surprised by my efficiency.”
“I’m accustomed to being the most efficient half of any partnership. As I’m sure you can well imagine.”
“Oh, I can well imagine.” He smiled. “But this is the first time you have ever worked with me.”
“A mistake, I think. We might make a fairly deadly duo.”
“Oh, I am counting on it.”
Victoria snapped her folio shut and stood, hands held in front of her, every inch the efficient businesswoman she always seemed. Though, he imagined she wasn’t truly a businesswoman. Her reputation was largely as a socialite, and yet she did not appear to be as insubstantial as one tended to assume socialites were. She had all of the strength and steel of someone who was accustomed to doing battle in the boardroom. He knew that she had her own money, mainly from making savvy investments and turning an already-healthy trust fund into a bank account she would be hard-pressed to drain over the course of her lifetime.
He imagined many people underestimated her as a result of her appearance, her petite frame, the fact that she could be easily written off as a lady who lunched and nothing more. He also imagined that some of her strength came from the fact that people underestimated her. Victoria Calder had more dedication, brilliance and determination than half of the CEOs he knew.
“I’ll be in touch about the New Orleans charity event. Would you like to set a budget?”
“This is coming out of my pocket, is it?”
She waved a hand, a gesture he was becoming used to. “Of course it is. I’m doing you a service. Naturally you will be paying for it. I will see what I can manage to get donated, of course, but I need to establish a venue, and there will need to be food.”
“Louise will send you something.” He looked down at his computer for a moment, then back up at her. “I would prefer not to be bothered by the arrangements. I figure our agreement should have as many perks for me as possible. And somehow I get the impression that planning an event is a perk to you.”
“It most certainly is. Especially in New Orleans. In the meantime I will be in touch with the media about the event, and I will let them know how deliriously happy I am to be wearing your ring.” She picked the ring box up from the desk. “Even though yellow is not my color.”
“I disagree, I think yellow could be your color. You just seem to insist on wearing black.” He examined the black pencil skirt and fitted black top she was wearing today. He couldn’t deny that she looked striking in black, but still.
“You, too,” she said, indicating his suit.
“Touché. We will be in touch.” She turned to go. “And Ms. Calder...” She turned back to face him. “You had better make sure to put the ring on. The press will be expecting it.”
The right corner of her lips tugged downward, and she reconfigured the things she was holding, opening the ring box and taking the jewel out. Then she slipped it, rather unceremoniously, onto the fourth finger of her left hand. “There—” she wiggled her fingers “—are you satisfied?”
No, dammit, he wasn’t. She was too cold by half, too in control. He didn’t like it. And before he could question why, he had stood and rounded the desk.
“Not just yet.” He closed the distance between them, watching as her blue eyes widened with each step he took nearer to her. “You do not look like a woman who has just had an encounter with her fiancé.”
“What do I look like?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, her expression still far too composed. All of the color in her cheeks was courtesy of her makeup.
“A woman who has just been in a business meeting. And I find that unacceptable.”
Her hair was already slightly messy from her trek across the city, but he still felt it wasn’t enough. He reached out, pressing his fingers to her temples and sliding his hand backward, fingertips sinking deeply into the softness of her hair. She froze beneath his touch, her eyes widening, her mouth rounding into a perfect O.
He shifted his hold, tugging at the pins that held her bun in place, letting the shimmering locks fall free around her shoulders. He raised his other hand, forking it deeply in her hair, ruffling it slightly as he might have done during a passionate kiss.
For the first time, he thought he might have actually succeeded in shocking her. Oh, certainly he’d had moments of surprising her, such as when he’d taken her up to his apartment in the gym and talked fake engagement logistics in a towel. But he didn’t think he had truly shocked her until this moment.
He was only guessing, of course, because of the way that she held herself so still, because of the way that she looked at him, blue eyes wide and lacking in the kind of sharpness they usually held.
There was something soft there now, something blurry.
His stomach tightened, lust grabbing him by the throat and shaking hard. He was on edge with her, a touch bringing him much closer to losing hold on his control than he would like to admit.
There was no denying that he found her very attractive. No denying that she was very attractive. And he wanted to know what it would be like to undo all those buttons on her blouse, to push that tightly fitted skirt up around her hips, tease her until she cried out, and then sink into her softness.
He