“You won’t stab me in the back during this…caper?”

“I wouldn’t call it a caper. Although it will require a bit of…finesse.”

“Meaning?”

This was the part she wouldn’t like. The part that would have been easy with another woman. But Julia wasn’t easy. She didn’t respond to his flirtation. Didn’t respond to Ferro’s charm. Charm he knew was lethal in most cases.

“We’ll have to make our merging look organic.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

She wasn’t going to like his suggestion, but that, in some ways, made it even more perfect. The more flustered she was, the more control he would have.

“It would be completely expected for a couple to discuss a project and come to the conclusion that collaboration would be the best for all involved.”

Her blue eyes glittered. “Are you suggesting that we…that we feign some kind of personal involvement?”

“You’re sanitizing it,” he said, smiling. “I’m suggesting we pretend we’re heavily involved in a scorching affair.”

MAISEY YATES was an avid Mills & Boon^® Modern^™ Romance reader before she began to write them. She still can’t quite believe she’s lucky enough to get to create her very own sexy alpha heroes and feisty heroines. Seeing her name on one of those lovely covers is a dream come true.

Maisey lives with her handsome, wonderful, diaper changing husband and three small children across the street from her extremely supportive parents and the home she grew up in, in the wilds of Southern Oregon, USA. She enjoys the contrast of living in a place where you might wake up to find a bear on your back porch and then heading into the home office to write stories that take place in exotic urban locales.

Recent titles by the same author:

HEIR TO A DARK INHERITANCE

(Secret Heirs of Powerful Men)

HEIR TO A DESERT LEGACY

(Secret Heirs of Powerful Men)

HER LITTLE WHITE LIE

AT HIS MAJESTY’S COMMAND

(The Call of Duty)

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Maisey Yates

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“IN TERMS OF design and usability, the new operating system is leagues above the competition.” Julia Anderson turned and gestured to the high definition monitor behind her, the one that was currently projecting the interface of her computer screen to thousands in the audience, and millions watching on television and the internet worldwide. “It’s sleek, user friendly and aesthetically pleasing which, as we know, matters. Technology is not just about wires, it’s about people.”

She smiled for the cameras, knowing she looked good. Thank God she had a personal stylist, along with a hair and makeup team these days. On her own she was hopeless. She’d been told so many, many times. But with a legion of people making sure she looked presentable, she could face the world—and it was literally the world—with confidence.

“However, design isn’t everything.” She took another breath and looked down at her computer. “It has to be secure. The new firewall we have in place is more secure than anything else on the market. It’s able to identify and block even the most sophisticated threats so that your most sensitive data is protected.”

The screen in front of her flickered and a video popped up in the center, then enlarged to take up the entire monitor. She froze, all eyes on her, and on the gigantic display behind her that was showing the exact same thing she was currently looking down at.

“Secure? I don’t find it all that secure, Ms. Anderson. Maybe secure against the rare hacker who bothers to use An falas. Anyone running Datasphere software would be able to get right in.”

Heat prickled on her neck. Her face. Ferro Calvaresi was a pain in her butt that would not quit. Though, in fairness, she was also a pain in his. And they were a mutual pain in Scott Hamlin’s. Basically they were a circle of techie annoyances to each other, but this, this was going way too far.

His face, his gorgeous, infuriating, chiseled face, had effectively taken over her presentation, his smug smile a gigantic display of a weakness in her firewalls she hadn’t known about.

“Hardly just anyone running Datasphere, Mr. Calvaresi,” she said, trying to keep calm, aware that her humiliation was being broadcast everywhere. The launch of her new OS was the news of the day. The launch of every Anfalas product was the news of the day. And Ferro had just hijacked it. “You practically need a masters in technology to run Datasphere. On the other hand, Anfalas computers focus on the user.”

“And your user just got hacked. I wonder if you have any banking information on here I might access?”

She made an axing motion toward the guy running the feed between her computer and the screen and the screen behind her went dark, at the same time the audio for Ferro was cut. His voice was still coming out of her laptop, and his face was still visible to her.

“And you’re done here,” she said, glaring daggers at the computer screen.

She looked back up. “I apologize for the theatrics. You know how my competition can be. It’s entirely possible he’s trying to compensate for some shortcomings.” There was a wave of nervous laughter through the room.

The press were jostling in the front row, but they knew better than to start flinging questions at her before the designated time. She was strict about that. She liked to make her presentations uninterrupted.

Grrrrr.

A new computer was supplied for her and she continued on with her demonstration. Of course, the wind had been taken out of the sails of the security portion of her speech, so she opted to skip on to the ultra high definition features of her new monitors, and to demonstrate the music and photo editing software, the things that hit really bit with her target market.

And when she was done, she opted to dodge the press. She dashed off the stage, cursing and taking a water bottle from the cooler in the back, then jammed her sunglasses onto her face and took her black leather bag from her assistant.

“Car?” she asked.

“Out back. Press is being baited by a fake car out front.” Thad picked something off the shoulder of her black T-shirt. “Stray hair,” he said.

“Thanks.” For everything. She wanted to cling to her assistant and cry right then, but Thad would scold her for smudging her makeup, and she shouldn’t show that kind of weakness anyway. Because the weak were unceremoniously devoured, in life and in business, and she didn’t show vulnerability anymore for that very reason. She knew that all too well.

What she would do was go home to her mansion on the seaside, look out the window at the view and eat a gallon of ice cream. Oh, yes, calories, here she came. And then…oh and then she was going to plot her revenge against Ferro Freaking Calvaresi.

She pushed open the back door and got into the limo that was waiting, closing the door tightly behind her.

“Hi.”

Her head whipped to the side and her jaw went slack. There was Ferro and his mocking smile, in the very male flesh.

“What the—? What are you doing in my car?”

“It’s my car. These limos all look alike.”

“Well, what did you do with my car?”