Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

C ooper schmoozed for business all the time and had faking it in social settings down to an art, so attending this soiree should've been easy.

Instead, he'd been on guard ever since he got out of the car and had stayed close to Ariel as they walked the path towards the imposing double doors of the mansion. She'd been oddly vulnerable in the car, at complete odds with her usual feistiness, and he wanted to put her at ease. He also wanted her next to him for a purely selfish reason; he liked having her there.

The quirky, sassy woman had him laughing more than he had in ages and he enjoyed firing right back at her. Not to mention the way her unique green eyes sparkled with cheeky glee when she scored a direct hit with her teasing barbs.

However, spending time with Ariel had one major drawback; he had to keep reminding himself of the real reason, the only reason, he was with her.

Business.

He'd never lost sight of the ultimate goal in any deal and he wouldn't start now. Not when leaving Vance Corporation was all important.

He'd had enough of his dad and his tyrannical style of running a company. Time to get away, start up some healthy competition, and see if that made the old man sit up and take notice.

"Uh-oh, look at all these people." Ariel gripped his arm tighter and all but yanked him behind a marble pillar as they stepped into an elaborate foyer.

"Hey, didn't my pep talk in the car resonate?"

He refrained from patting her hand, knowing she'd probably slug him on the nose for being patronising.

She shook her head and the pile of curls piled on the top wobbled, enveloping him in a bizarre fruity-floral scent he'd yet to identify and was too embarrassed to ask her about. The same scent that haunted him, enticed him, and beckoned him to get closer to her.

"Sorry, the naked visualisation thing doesn't do it for me."

"Even after seeing me with my clothes off?"

She rolled her eyes but at least he saw a glimmer of a smile. "Especially after that."

"Ouch, you sure know how to wound a guy's ego." He clutched his heart in mock pain, eliciting more of a smile from her enticing mouth coated in a shiny gloss.

He'd never seen her wear makeup, and her subtle use of cosmetics tonight highlighted her exquisite features to perfection.

"With the size of ego a big shot like you has, I seriously doubt that."

Shaking his head and exceedingly pleased his distraction technique had worked, he said, "I take it the big shot label isn't a term of endearment?"

Her smile faded. "It's a fact. You're a businessman, I'm an artist. You want something I have, which is the only reason you're here tonight and being so darn nice to me. So let's go in, do the obligatory social niceties, and get out of here before this princess turns into a pumpkin."

"Fine," he said, not sure what annoyed him more: how little she thought of him or the element of truth behind her brutal honesty.

"Fine," she echoed, tilting her head up like a queen and marching away, leaving him with a tantalising view of a straight, bare back courtesy of her daring dress, while the rest of it cascaded from her waist to the floor in shimmery shades of aquamarine, turquoise, and emerald, the exact colour of the Great Barrier Reef on a clear day.

So much for a connection. He tried to be nice and what did he get for his trouble? An earful. He tried to be rational about this business deal between them and what did he get? Angst.

And she hadn't even heard his pitch yet.

He'd never pretended he was anything but the heartless tycoon she thought he was. Business meant everything to him. It was all he knew.

He'd blitzed his uni degrees, waltzed into a cushy job, and proceeded to set the business world alight. He deserved to be confident. Failure wasn't in his vocabulary. Never had been, never would be.

And no matter how stubborn the eccentric Miss Wallace wanted to be, he'd make sure he wouldn't fail this time.

He couldn't. There was too much at stake.