Victoria Calder would realize very quickly that this was his show now. And he would conduct it as he saw fit.

Now all that was left was to speak to his darling fiancée, who was currently five minutes late. He did not take kindly to people running late. Of course, it might’ve been helpful for him to inform her that she was supposed to meet him with a bit more time for her to actually make the commute to his end of London. She had been somewhere quite a bit away, and traffic would be fairly awful at this time of day, as it was awful at any time of day.

He could very well imagine that she hated to be late, and he had all but guaranteed that she would be. The enjoyment he felt at the thought of her annoyance did somewhat temper his irritation.

And his irritation vanished completely when she burst through the door of his office, with his assistant on her heels, her blond hair escaping from its neat bun, her cheeks pink.

“So sorry to keep you waiting.” Her tone said that she was anything but sorry; in fact it did not denote apology of any kind. In fact, she sounded quite venomous. He found that quite enjoyable.

She had already backed him into a corner, her logic and facts more persuasive than a cattle prod. And here he was again, faced with a fait accompli. Faced with giving away the very last piece of his twisted soul.

He nearly laughed. Perhaps that would have been an issue if he’d had a piece of his soul left. Sadly, he was almost certain he didn’t. Not even a twisted one.

“I am a very busy man, and I do not like to be kept waiting.” He looked behind Victoria’s shoulder at his very put-out-looking assistant. “Of course that does not include you, darling.”

He could see Victoria’s muscles visibly tighten at the endearment, but his assistant’s face relaxed. Undoubtedly Louise had been afraid an intruder had got past her.

“Very giving of you, dearest,” Victoria sniffed. She crossed the room, and sat in the chair that was positioned in front of his desk.

“That will be all, Louise.” His assistant nodded, the relieved expression still on her face as she closed the door. “Nice of you to finally join me.”

“Yes, well, I was at a luncheon. I had to leave, quite abruptly. It was very rude. And I am never rude.”

“Are you not?”

“Not in public.”

“What else don’t you do in public?”

She blinked. “A great many things,” she said crisply.

“There isn’t much I won’t do in private. Or in public.” He said it to get a rise out of her, but as the words escaped his lips, and as the color deepened in her cheeks, he could not help but experience a rush of heat through his own veins. Because it made him think of all the things that a man could do in public, or private, with a woman like Victoria. Truly, there was very little he would not do with her in either setting. Especially with her.

Then he reminded himself that there was much easier game to be had. He was working with her, using her to his advantage, and that meant sex was most definitely out of the question. Of course, given the fact that they were to be playing at being a couple, and that introducing anyone else into their charade would be something of a liability, it was very likely there would be no sex for the foreseeable future. The thought made him frown. Deeply.

Victoria frowned in return. “Why do you look so grumpy? I was only five minutes late.”

“I was only pondering the specifics of our arrangement,” he said.

That word made her brighten. She seemed to relish this entire process and he hadn’t decided yet if he trusted her. “Well, talking of specifics, I have drawn up some legal documents for us to go over.”

“That quickly?”

She waved a hand. “Oh, I had these drawn up weeks ago, when I was first formulating the idea. I know better than to leave these things until the last minute. The last thing you want to do a rush job on is legal documents. I didn’t want any reference to our engagement being false in them, but also I need to guarantee that you will in fact hand over the ownership of my father’s company upon the end of our little alliance.”

“And what makes you think I’ll sign this?”

She shrugged. “Because if you don’t, I walk.”

“I see.” He leaned back in his chair, then pushed against the surface of the desk and stood. “And where is my guarantee?”

“If I break off the engagement, then I don’t get the company. However, if you break it off, I do. So, if at any point I abandon you, my side of the agreement is void. This is sort of the pre-prenuptial agreement.”

“Is that something people do nowadays?”

“Actually, it is.”

She reached down and took a folio off the ground, pulling a thick stack of documents out of it. “It outlines several things, including what will become of the ring should we break up—it returns to you—and the fact that I’m not entitled to the company should I break things off with you. It also clearly states that upon our marriage the company reverts to me, but if we divorce and it’s my fault, ownership reverts to you. We need all of this seamless. It has to look legitimate even when it’s over.”

“You certainly don’t leave things to chance.” He examined her fine features, high cheekbones, the delicate rose color in her cheeks, the faint blush of her lips. She was very pale, her blond hair silvery. To some, he imagined she would appear very fragile, but then, that was what made her interesting. The fact that beneath the soft facade she was steel and ice.

She might appear to be an English rose, but she would not be half so easily crushed.

“Only fools leave these things to chance. Even the best gamblers are calculating odds, not taking wild stabs in the dark.” She placed the stack of papers on his desk and pushed them toward his side. He bent to pick them up, slowly leafing through the pages.

“Calculation is important,” he said, as he continued to scan the papers. “But you should never underestimate the importance of being able to follow your gut. When you’re in a fight there often isn’t time to play it out like chess, even if it would be ideal. Sometimes you just have to trust that if you need to feint right, your body will feint right.”

“A nice theory. But that has nothing to do with legalities. What do you think?” She looked at him with her sharp blue eyes, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“Everything looks good.” He sat back down behind his desk and opened the top drawer, taking out the ring he had stashed in there earlier. The velvet box made a muted sound as he pressed it slowly onto the wooden surface.

She looked down at the box, then back up at him. “Is that what I think it is?”

“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?”