‘You don’t need to pity anyone,’ Ashley replied hotly, her eyes flashing fire. ‘That isnotwhat Infinite Innovations is about at all.’
‘I didn’t say I did pity anyone,’ Nico replied, keeping his voice mild. ‘But, Ashley, you must have realised yourself, very few of these technologies are what I could call money spinners. Until they become cost effective, Infinite Innovations doesn’t have a chance. The only reason you were as successful as you seemed was because of that robotic toothbrush.’
‘But there are other inventions that could be just as successful,’ Ashley insisted, her voice wobbling. ‘Shutting the whole thing down because you’re annoyed at my father—’
‘I’m notannoyed,’ Nico bit out. His patience extended only so far, and she made him sound—and feel—petty. ‘This runs far deeper than some minor irritation.’
‘Then tell me.’
He wasn’t ready to reveal that information, not until he understood her more. Not until it made him feel less vulnerable. But, as Tony had said, Nico needed to do damage control. ‘We have more to discuss,’ he told her. ‘There’s a charitable gala I need to attend tomorrow night. I’d like you to go with me.’
Ashley’s jaw dropped before she snapped it shut. ‘As yourdate?’ she asked incredulously.
Nico gave her a cool smile. ‘No, as my potential business partner. If you want to save Infinite Innovations, then you’ll attend with me and make a nice show of how we’re so happy to be working together.’
Ashley’s golden brows snapped together. ‘Arewe working together?’
Nico bared his teeth in a smile. ‘What do you call this?’ he asked.
Chapter Seven
ASHLEY OPENED THEdoor of her apartment with a groan, kicking it behind her before she shuffled over to the sofa and collapsed on it in a veritable heap. Today felt like the longest day she’d ever known, and it was only five o’clock. Yet her world had shattered, come back together and shattered again in the space of a few hours.
Ashley still don’t know what to think about any of it. What did Nico Galletti evenwantfrom her? This morning, he’d seemed intent on cruel destruction, and then this afternoon he’d rowed back on it all…maybe. Ashley still couldn’t tell if he was merely toying with her.Whyhave her attend this gala event, and why make it seem as if they were working together, if he had no intention of taking on her company, even as a “pity project”?
The questions seethed through her mind, filling her with uncertainty…and that was without thinking about that scorching kiss they’d shared, which she’d been doing her best to block out and act as if it had never happened.
Yet now, as she lay on her sofa in her studio apartment, Ashley let herself remember. She luxuriated in the memory of his strong arms around her, his hand sliding up her thigh, his fingers tantalizing her flesh and cupping her breast… His lips, so soft and full, yet hard and demanding at the same time…
Heat bloomed inside her at the mere thought, snaked through her veins and filled her with wanting. Ashley had been kissed only a few times in her life, and it had all been unremarkable, confirming her suspicion that romance was nothing more than a distraction and worse, a weakness—one she had no intention of giving into the way her mother had. She’d been in thrall to a man who had as good as disposed of her when she’d outlasted her usefulness.
And, Ashley suspected, Nico would be a similar kind of man. Maybe he didn’t possess the subtle yet devastating cruelty her father did—although there was no real reason for her to think hedidn’t—but in any case, she was under no illusions that that kiss had meant anything to Nico whatsoever. If anything, he’d been trying to demonstrate his power over her, something she had no intention of giving him. She would, she decided, never let him kiss her again.
Evenif she’d agreed to attend this ball with him tomorrow night. With the fate of her business in his hands, what else could she do? But, as Nico himself had said, it was a business engagement only, and Ashley intended to be every inch the consummate professional.
The buzz of her intercom had Ashley heaving herself from the sofa with a groan. She didn’t get many visitors, because she didn’t have many friends, but this day had been one surprise after another…
‘Delivery for Miss Ashley Woodward,’ the voice on the intercom informed her after she’d pressed it.
‘Can you leave it in the post room?’ she asked. Usually deliverymen just chucked whatever packages or parcels arrived in the small room intended for such things.
‘I’m afraid Mr Galletti’s instructions were to have it delivered directly to your apartment.’
Briefly Ashley closed her eyes. She had no idea what Nico had sent to her apartment, but she was not surprised a deliveryman was determined to obey his fearsome instructions.
‘All right, thank you, you can send it up,’ she said wearily, and she pressed the button to unlock the front door. She supposed she should be grateful to Nico; he’d provided her with a car to take her home from his office after she’d—reluctantly—agreed to attend this event.
‘If it’s black tie, I don’t have anything to wear,’ she’d warned him after he’d told her, irritatingly, to ‘dress appropriately’. ‘I gave away all my formal clothes years ago.’
His brows had snapped together at that. ‘Why did you do such a thing?’
‘Because I had no need for them and I didn’t want the reminders,’ she’d replied shortly. She’d not been about to explain how she’d hated every dress her father had forced her to wear, intent on her being the consummate hostess, the perfectprincess. How giving them all away had felt like freedom, a huge weight sliding from her bowed-down shoulders.
‘But if this is abusinessevent,’ she’d told Nico with emphasis, ‘Then I can attend in business wear, so we should be fine.’ She’d bared her teeth in a steely smile and, to her annoyance, Nico had given her a little quirk of his lips in return, as if her petty little power plays merely amused him. She’d wondered if he’d still be amused when she showed up at the charity event in off-the-rack business separates.
As Ashley opened the door to her apartment, a groan escaped her. There was not just one deliveryman, butthree, and they carried a portable clothes rack with at least a dozen plastic-swathed hangers that looked to hold designer dresses. Clearly Nico had not approved of her suggestion that she wear her usual business attire. She wasn’t surprised by his high-handedness, but she was certainly aggravated by it, especially when she considered her history with her father and all the dresses he’d made her wear.
‘I don’t need these,’ she informed the first deliveryman as he held out a receipt for her to sign. ‘You can take them back.’
