Page 4 of Their Diamond Ring Ruse

His blue eyes twinkled as he leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face at the last moment, forcing his lips to press against her cheek. His blond hair brushed against her skin as he pulled away, his lips set in a grim line.

‘Lily.’ Lincoln slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side.

His touch might as well have been a padlock and chain. That was how trapped she felt. She glared at her brother, but turned away. She couldn’t look at either of them.

Her stomach roiled at the weight of Lincoln’s hand on her hip. Not a sign of affection but a shackle. She couldn’t breathe. Needed to get out of this place. Out of her life. Lincoln wanted them to wed in a year. How could she do that? How could she succumb to a life like that?

She couldn’t. Would never survive it. Never survive being with this man who had asked her father if he really wanted to risk Devan’s place at Arum when they had spoken once about calling off the arrangement. When Sam had tried to explain that Lily’s goals no longer suited being married to him.

Bile rose in her throat when she thought of what freeing herself might mean for Devan. And she might displease her mother by going against her father’s wishes, even though before he’d died he had promised to find a solution for her. But still she was stuck here.

Lily took a deep breath, trying to centre herself. To halt her panic and desperation to run. She needed to think, but when she opened her eyes a figure captured her attention. A man in a dark suit with red hair and no hint of a smile on his face.

He wasn’t the tallest man in the room. Nor was he the largest or the brawniest. But he had a presence that shouted louder than any voice. It made him stand taller than anyone else. He had a predatory air that sucked all the attention away from everyone and everything else, focussing it all on him.

He was feral and beautiful, caged in a designer suit. But it didn’t make him look trapped. No. It was the glossy coat of a jungle cat as it stalked its prey.

As if he felt her gaze on him he turned his eyes on her. While she couldn’t tell the colour of them from where she stood, she felt a shiver pass through her, and even the constricting band of Lincoln’s arm fell away.

* * *

Julian Ford stood at the bar, glass in hand. Raising the club soda and lime to his lips, he took a sip, rolling it around his tongue, relishing the tart bite. He hated these events, preferring to be at home or in his office, working. Growing his company or creating blueprints for new technology.

That wasn’t an option tonight.

The exclusivity of this network was legendary. The only thing that had garnered him an invitation—and a reluctant one at that, he assumed—was his bank balance. No one would ignore a billionaire for too long. Especially one like him.

He hated having to make small talk with a bunch of rich snobs, but even he knew the importance of this kind of networking.

He glanced around the room once again, paying close attention to all the heads of industry he wished to win over. Mentally he sorted through the list of people who it would be most profitable for him to work with. To him, winning people over didn’t mean playing nice and kissing ass. No. To Julian, winning meant making a success of the company he’d worked his hands to the bone to build. Winning meant showing people just what they would lose from not signing with him and how much they would gain from an association.

His attendance here was only the first step. What he needed was an in for the Zenith dinner in a few weeks’ time. If this event was exclusive, it was nothing on the Zenith network. Much to his irritation, he had never yet received an invitation, and even his being here tonight didn’t mean that was likely to change.

He took another sip of his drink, sliding his free hand into his pocket, and turned to face the older gentleman beside him, nursing a glass of Scotch as he ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.

‘This turnout could work in your favour,’ said Henry Cross, the man Julian owed so much to. He was his mentor. The one person in the world he trusted.

‘I’m not interested in the numbers,’ Julian replied.

‘Of course not. I taught you better than that.’ The old man smiled.

Julian had seen that smile so many times over the years, yet still he couldn’t return it. Thankfully Henry never expected him to, which made being around him so much easier.

Julian had graduated from school early, which had meant he was far younger than anyone else at college. Far younger and far, far smarter. Henry had recognised the genius in a very poor, very serious, driven young man, and had taken him under his wing.

Now Julian owned IRES, a leader in renewable energy technology. His own invention—created while still a teenager—had made him a millionaire, and following that a billionaire, but the success of IRES had mostly come from overseas markets. He was still struggling to gain a foothold in the States.

It was hard to convince companies in the US to work with him when even those in San Francisco—the city in which he’d placed his headquarters—stubbornly refused to work with him. But his overseas success wasn’t enough. Julian needed to replicate that success on home soil.

His drive to turn nothing into the behemoth IRES now was had taken intelligence and an understanding of where exactly to focus his efforts. So, no, he would not be looking to get in bed with anyone in this room who had money—which was everyone—but the select few who would have the greatest impact.

After all, a predator didn’t hunt an entire herd blindly...it selected its prey and went after it.

‘You did,’ he said now. ‘The problem is I couldn’t care less about the people who want to talk to me,’ Julian added, looking around the room.

‘That group will be hard to break into,’ Henry agreed, glancing over his shoulder to the man Julian was looking at.

‘Lincoln Harrison won’t give me the time of day. He won’t even take a call from IRES,’ he said through clenched teeth.

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