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‘That wasn’t ever on the table! Nor, for your information, did I choose his company!’
‘So how come you ended up with him?’ Nikos pushed back.
The flash in the eyes came again. ‘He hired me for the evening! As an escort.’
Nikos stilled, not believing what he’d just heard her say.
‘A hooker?’
‘I am not a hooker!’ The snarl came from her throat. ‘I took a job at an escort agency, as an escort! That’s all! I’m well aware that some girls do a hell of a lot more than just have dinner and drinks with their clients, but not me!’ Breath razored in her lungs as her eyes blazed. ‘So whatever else you think, and whatever else that disgusting jerk thought, that was all I signed up for! And he knew it, and the agency knew it, and now you can know it too—and you can take it and choke on it!’
She was fumbling for the door catch again, dimly aware, in the fury and tumult in her head, that the taxi had stopped. She couldn’t find the catch, and then, as she fumbled desperately, she felt a hand close over hers, pulling it away. The cabbie was speaking, opening the partition slightly, his voice wary. ‘You OK there, luv?’
‘She’s fine!’ Nikos cut across roughly, closing the glass again. ‘Keep driving!’
For a moment longer the cabbie looked over his shoulder. But Sophie was sitting frozen again, as if all the fire had been doused with a pail of water. Oh, what the hell? she thought, a bitter weariness crushing down on her as the cold in her bones took over and she started to shiver again.
Why did I rise to it? What do I care what he thinks of me? What could I possibly, possibly care? He’s nothing to me—nothing, nothing, nothing.
Depression, weariness, and despair like a deadweight crushed her down. Her shivering intensified. Her mind seemed like a blur, a mush. Too much had happened, too much overload. She could not take any more…
‘Sophie—’
Nikos’s voice cut across her deadening mind, and she raised blurred eyes to him. Her make-up was running into them, stinging, and drops of rain were still oozing down her forehead, making her blink.
Nikos. I’m in a taxi with Nikos Kazandros, and I don’t know why, or how, or what the hell is going on, and I just can’t cope any more, I can’t…can’t cope…
‘Sophie!’ Nikos spoke again, louder this time. Demanding attention. She stared at him and realised he had taken off his jacket, was holding it out to her. She shrank back, as if it were poisoned.
‘I don’t want it,’ she bit out. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re soaking wet and freezing—even in here.’
‘I’m fine,’ she repeated doggedly.
Nikos’s dark eyes glinted balefully, but he shrugged himself back into his jacket. ‘You really believed Cosmo Dimistris just wanted a sexy female to have dinner with?’ The question was scathing.
She said nothing, only clenched her jaw.
‘Answer me!’
Her eyes flashed again. ‘What do you want to know for? What possible concern is it of yours?’
‘Just tell me,’ he gritted.
‘Yes,’ she enunciated, berating herself even as she did so, because she owed this man no explanation, no justification. But she wanted to wipe the sneer from his face—needed to. ‘I did. Because that is what I signed up to. When I went to the agency, I said I would only do dinner dates, nothing else. And the woman said fine, it was up to me, it was my choice, and the agency didn’t get involved with anything more than providing the introduction—’
His laugh, harsh and short, cut across her. ‘Introduction? Did you think you were working for a dating agency? No one can be that naïve!’
She twisted her head away. A rock was in her stomach. Yes, she’d been that naïve, all right. So naïve—right up to the moment when she’d gone to find Cosmo Dimistris and he had offered her some cocaine, having clearly just snorted some himself, and said it would make the sex much, much better, whilst steering her into a bedroom.
The rock in her stomach hardened, and she felt again the lash of self-hatred that she’d flagellated herself with as she’d trudged down the rain-sluiced street. Cosmo had made it savagely clear to her, with a laugh so coarse that it had almost obliterated the hot groping of his hand, that if she wasn’t going to come up with the goods, she could stop wasting his time and get the hell out, because there were plenty of other girls here who would provide what he wanted.
The taxi was turning off the road, heading into the sweeping entrance of a hotel.
