Page 10 of Hate On

“You know, I’ve never been able to understand why our families had to have this rivalry between them,” he said softly, staring at his reflection in the golden doors. As they slid open, he stepped to the side to let her step out.

She glanced his way before doing so, and he took that as a positive sign and fell into step next to her.

“There is plenty of room for both of us in this world. Especially with Templeton bowing out of the race,” he added, giving her a quick wink.

She smiled a little and shook her head. “They aren’t closing their stores. I don’t think you can call them out of theraceper se.”

“True. But without their own mines, they won’t be as competitive. You and I both know that.” He slowed his steps and was pleased when she did the same. Gesturing at the posh bar just to his left, he asked, “Why don’t you join me for a drink, Julianna?”

She hesitated and he fired a grin at her. “Come on. Our parents will be retiring at some point and it’s going to be the two of us leading our family businesses from then on out. I’d much rather have a friendly competition than this knuckle-dragging hatred our fathers seem to have.”

At that, she laughed. “Maybe one drink. I’m not much for knuckle-dragging myself.” She waggled nails polished the shade of the world’s finest rubies at me. “It messes with my manicure.”

A few moments later, as he followed her and the hostess to a table, he was treated to an intoxicating inhalation of her scent—and a delightful view of her ass under the narrow pencil skirt she wore. Pencil skirts—he loved them. As she slid into the plush, padded booth with its high back, he entertained the brief fantasy of slipping the skirt up over her ass and burying himself deep inside of her.

His trousers tightened uncomfortably and he casually slid a hand into his pocket, hoping to disguise his sudden arousal. “I’m going to make a quick run to the washroom,” he said, nodding at the hostess and Julianna. “Order their best scotch for me, would you? Straight up, no ice.”

“Of course.”

He ducked into the restroom and pulled out his phone, making a couple of discreet calls, watching the time so he didn’t spend too long taking care of the matters at hand.

He would have liked to be more thorough, but he was under a time crunch as it was, so he left the rest of the matter in capable hands and slipped out of the restroom just as a scotch was being put down in the empty space opposite Julianna. She spied him coming and to his pleased surprise, she greeted him with a smile.

That was a start.

There was business to see to, but he’d never minded mixing business with pleasure.

4

Julianna

One cocktail turned into two,which turned into an invitation to dinner at a sweet little Italian place in Midtown.

Her driver let her out in front and Julianna started to think she’d wasted time going home after she’d wrapped up her business for the day to put on a sleek black dress that was sexy in an understated way.

It definitely looked like she was overdressed.

She quickly learned she was wrong, because while the place looked like a hole in the wall, it turned out to be a gem.

Julianna turned to Roman with a delighted smile. “This place isbeautiful,” she exclaimed.

It looked like an Italian grotto, complete with columns and greenery. Small strands of lights stretched overhead.

It wasn’t anything like the posh, but somehow rigid environment she’d expected from Roman Montrose.

He grinned at her, that slow smile tugging at things she was better off not thinking about, considering who he was. “Why do you sound so surprised? I’m a master when it comes to picking out all things beautiful, Julianna.”

There was an intimacy to his tone that had her fighting back a shiver.

“Hmmm…” She managed to summon up a note of skepticism and withdrew her arm from his as the hostess approached.

They were escorted to a table tucked in the back, partially shielded from the rest of the diners by the greenery carefully positioned around the table. Roman pulled out Julianna’s chair and she sat down, trying to ignore the flutters in her belly. She hadn’t felt butterflies like this since her last date. Actually, no. She hadn’t felt butterflies like this inseveraldates. She couldn’t remember the last time, really.

Feeling them with Roman Montrose was unsettling.

What would her parents think?

“Do you mind if I select a bottle of wine?” Roman asked, picking up the wine list lying in the middle of the table.