The Couple Who Fooled The World. Maisey Yates
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Her blond hair was pulled back in a low, messy bun, her makeup done all in shades of pale pink and gold. Her lips were painted the lightest rose, and it created the strangest curiosity in him. A fascination with what they might look like darker, flushed with arousal. Strange because he never felt curious about those things. He knew all about sex. There was no mystery left.
He’d opened the door and let her into the limo, and then both of them had spent the drive down the interstate on their mobile devices, finishing up the day’s interrupted work.
When they pulled up to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, the streets were already blocked off. Ferro’s limo was given immediate access, and they were let out near the end of the red carpet. This sort of thing had never been his favorite aspect of fame. The fortune was his biggest draw. These events did very little for him. Giving fake smiles to even faker people ranked low on his list of things he’d like to do with his Friday night.
Julia had the most purposeful look of boredom on her face he’d ever seen. Like she was forcing her lips to stay pulled together, forcing herself not to smile. She was stiff, walking with her head held high, her posture overly straight.
But beneath all of that, she was vibrating under the surface. Energy was pouring from her in waves, though he knew no one standing far away from her would ever be able to tell. But he could feel her shaking.
She seemed to like a spectacle, her presentations were so ostentatious it was unreal, but then, she was in control of them. The press played by her rules in those situations. Perhaps that was the cause of her unease now. It wasn’t her security keeping the fans at bay. The press weren’t being held to her guidelines.
He pulled her to him, lacing his fingers through hers. “We’re ready to walk the carpet.” He could feel her fingers trembling in his. “Relax,” he said. “We aren’t the A list. We won’t be mobbed.”
“I’ve seen pictures snapped of you while you were getting coffee at Roasted. You’re mobbed frequently.”
“Yes, but not when there are movie stars around. Come on. Anyway, if we are mobbed, our purposes will be served even better.” He tugged her along and when they stepped onto the carpet, he turned his smile on full.
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.