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It was such a manifestly false statement that Jessica laughed, but it was a hysterical laugh, devoid of humour. ‘Make up your mind. Last night you told me you were dangerous too.’
‘All right, let me put that another way.’ A sardonic smile touched his beautiful mouth. ‘I’m not dangerous to you.’
Oh, but he was.
She knew that this one man had the power to do her more damage than every gang prowling the streets of London.
And he knew it.
He’d always known how she felt about him.
Jessie drew in a shuddering breath, reminding herself that everything was different now. He wasn’t her hero any more. He was strong, yes. And powerful. But he wasn’t the saint she’d once thought he was.
Her eyes were open wide and her heart was safely shut away.
He couldn’t hurt her any more than he already had, could he?
And it would be crazy to refuse his protection. She’d lived her life on the edge for long enough to know that when help offered itself, you took it. ‘I don’t think it will work,’ she said huskily. ‘They’re going to know I’m not the sort of woman who is usually in your life. I don’t go to film premieres and celebrity parties. I don’t know how to walk down a red carpet.’
‘You put one leg in front of the other,’ Silvio drawled. ‘And celebrity parties and film premieres are going to seem like a holiday after the life you’ve been leading. It isn’t something you need to practise.’
The lift doors opened but Jessie didn’t move, daunted by the acres of glass and the sheer elegance of the building. ‘I don’t know how to shop in places like this.’
‘That’s easy too.’ His hand closed over her wrist and he urged her forwards. ‘You just find something you like and you buy it. It’s not rocket science.’
‘I don’t like spending your money.’
‘Now, that’s something no woman has said to me before.’ His smile was shockingly appealing. ‘You’re missing an opportunity for revenge, Jess. This is your chance to fleece me.’ With his usual cool confidence, he walked towards a woman who was waiting. ‘Alternatively you could consider it a necessary investment on the part of your employer. You’re singing at the most important society wedding of the decade. You need to look the part.’
And that was another thing. It was all very well singing in Joe’s Bar, but another thing entirely to sing in front of a discerning audience.
Just the thought of it made her stomach cramp with nerves.
What would they want her to sing?
What if they hated her voice?
Guided into an elegantly furnished private room, Jessie sat on a low, comfortable sofa and watched as clothes were modelled for her by a series of haughty models with endless legs.
She sat stiffly, feeling horribly out of place and painfully conscious of what they must be thinking about her.
After ten minutes of smiling politely, she turned to Silvio. ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing here. Am I supposed to clap?’
‘You make a note of the ones you like.’ Preoccupied with answering emails, Silvio’s eyes were fixed on the screen of his BlackBerry. ‘Then you try them on. After that you take them home and wear them. Simple.’
He thought that was simple?
At the moment it felt like one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
Her confidence didn’t increase when she turned back to the private fashion show in time to see a model staring hungrily at Silvio. She was sleek, glamorous and confident and Jessie suddenly wondered what on earth had possessed him to think he could convincingly pass her off as his woman.
‘It doesn’t matter how you dress me,’ she mumbled, fiddling with the ends of her hair, ‘I’m not going to look like her. I don’t know why you’re bothering.’
Silvio lifted his gaze and frowned. ‘I wouldn’t want you to look like her,’ he murmured in an undertone. ‘She’s extremely bony.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’ Jessica’s eyes widened as she watched the girl disappear behind the curtain. ‘She’s beautiful. And confident.’
‘Confidence is an act.’ Silvio glanced at Jessie’s face, exasperation gleaming in his eyes. ‘Jess, what is the matter with you? You faced a bunch of thugs in an alleyway but here you are looking at a few fancy clothes and you’re scared?’
