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Nikos, so close she could see every line and plane of his face! So close she could reach out and touch him!
No! Desperately she fought against the rush of blood as her gaze clung to the man opposite her. No! That was all—the only word she must keep in her head. No! No to everything that made her want to go to him, that made the pulse quicken in her veins, the breath tighten in her lungs.
She opened her mouth to speak, to voice her protest at what was happening, but he was there before her.
‘I’ve booked you for tonight, Sophie, for one reason and one reason only,’ he said, and his voice was steely.
His face was shuttered, jaw set. His eyes bored into her, pinioning her. She could not move, could only endure—frozen, immobile.
‘Didn’t I tell you last night what a dangerous game you were playing?’ he iced out. ‘You’re standing at the gutter’s edge, Sophie, and it will take only a single step to be in it! You can think yourself unsullied because you call it escorting, but that’s not what others will think, believe me!’
His hard eyes excoriated her. ‘I thought I’d got the message home to you last night, but I haven’t, have I? You’re still on the agency’s books, and your presence here right now is proof you haven’t wised up yet. Or won’t!’ He took a sharp intake of breath. ‘You got lucky last night, Sophie! That jerk Cosmo had other girls to help himself to, so he didn’t turn nasty on you! That won’t happen every time! And a man like that, who thinks he’s paying for a woman for the night, won’t take kindly to being told, sorry, but you’ll go home to your virtuous single bed at midnight!’
Her face was closed, shutting him out, rejecting what he was saying. ‘I can handle myself,’ she retorted, quelling the churning inside her. She wanted to leap to her feet, run, but she couldn’t move, could hardly get words out while he laid into her.
‘Like hell!’ he shot back dismissively. ‘Last night you saw the kind of scene that the men who’ll hire you like to enjoy! All it will take is a spiked drink, or worse, and a little exercise of masculine strength. And you don’t think anyone at a place like that is going to believe your protests, do you? Do you want to end up drugged and raped?’
Her face was white under the make-up. ‘It won’t happen! I’ll be careful! I’ll stick to public places, like this.’
Nikos’s voice was scathing. ‘And then what, Sophie? Have you thought that through? Because I have, believe me! And it’s the reason you’re sitting here right now. Let me spell it out for you.’ He took another scissored breath. ‘You may not give a cent for your reputation, you may not care if the whole world knows your line of work, but spare a thought, if you please—’ his voice was edged with scathing sarcasm ‘—for others. Whether you get into serious trouble with a demanding client or not, you’ll cause trouble for others. Think of your father, Sophie. Whatever his business problems, he wasn’t responsible for the way you behaved four years ago. His fault was in indulging you, making you think you could have everything you wanted, the easy way. But he wouldn’t want this for you now, what you’re doing—what father would?’
A steel band had started to tighten around her skull, digging into her skin. ‘He won’t know.’ It was all she could get out and it cost her, even to say that.
Nikos’s eyes hardened. ‘You think? By swanning around in public places people will see you—people who know you. After all…’ he paused ‘…I did.’ He paused again, his eyes boring into her like drills. ‘And I won’t be the only one to make the conclusion I did about you last night. Do you think anyone is actually going to believe your claim that you only sell your company—not your body?’ His voice was harsh, pitiless. ‘They’ll call you a hooker, a whore, a call-girl—whether you like it or not!’
The unbearable lecture went on, and she wanted to scream and yell, but she couldn’t—she couldn’t. She had to sit there and take it, endure it.
‘And then, Sophie, what about when the tabloids cotton on to what you’re doing? Someone will spot you and tip them off. And it doesn’t matter that Granton plc is no more, they’ll dredge it back up and they’ll have a field day exposing how a millionaire’s daughter has ended up on the game now Daddy’s run out of his millions. They’ll revel in it, Sophie! You can protest your innocence all you like, but they’ll still put “escort agency” in quotes, and everyone will know it’s just a euphemism, whether you like it or not. Then some kindly soul will put the tabloid rag in front of your father, with a sympathetic look on their face, and your father will know just how far his precious darling daughter has fallen….’
