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Thinking about how hard it had been even to keep herself clothed on her non-existent budget, Jessie glared at the clothes as if they were responsible for her situation.
She’d show him fashion sense.
Her attention caught by a shimmer of peacock blue, she reached out and snatched the dress from its hanger. Seeing the label, she gave a gulp and almost put it straight back. A dress like this would cost a fortune. More than she earned in a year, including tips.
But where was the harm in trying it on?
Too much of a woman to resist the temptation, she wriggled out of her jeans.
As soon as the delicate fabric whispered over her skin, she gave a low moan of appreciation. She didn’t need a mirror to know that it was going to look good. This dress would look good on anyone.
Taking a pair of shoes from the selection that had been left out for her, Jessie slid them on, noting how much more comfortable they were than the cheap budget-store version she crammed her feet into every night.
‘Goodbye, blisters,’ she muttered, pushing back the curtain and stepping onto the catwalk. Hoping she wasn’t going to fall flat on her face, she strolled forward, imitating the swaying confident walk of the models. ‘This store is trying to fleece you,’ she said lightly. ‘There’s nothing but expensive stuff back here.’
‘That’s good.’ In the middle of reading an email, Silvio didn’t even glance up and Jessie felt a rush of anticlimax, thrown by the fact he hadn’t even looked at her.
‘Did you hear what I said? They’re trying to make you spend loads.’
‘I heard you.’
‘Well, you at least ought to tell me if you think it’s worth the money.’
His glance was so fleeting that she almost missed it. ‘You look fine.’
That was it? That was all he was going to say?
‘At that price it ought to be more than fine.’ Curiously deflated by his indifferent response, Jessie was about to turn away when she noticed the tension in his shoulders. Puzzled, she glanced at his face but his eyes were on the screen in his hand. ‘Why did you come here if you’re too busy for this?’
‘I’m not too busy.’
‘Well, you’re obviously really stressed about something. So what’s on your mind? What is there to worry about now that you’re rich?’
Finally he looked at her.
Self-conscious under his penetrating dark gaze, Jessie shifted awkwardly. ‘What? There’s no mirror so I couldn’t look at myself. Am I wearing it the wrong way round or something? Is there something wrong with it? You said it was fine.’
It was a moment before he answered and when he did his voice was terse. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it. And this is going to take all day if we spend this long on each outfit.’ He returned his attention to his phone and Jessie felt a rush of humiliation, all too aware that he’d paid the model more attention than he’d paid her.
Infuriated with herself for minding, she scowled at him. ‘I can’t pick a whole wardrobe from the stuff back there,’ she said huskily, horrified to discover that she had a lump in her throat. ‘It’s all really expensive.’
‘It doesn’t matter what it costs.’
‘Do you throw money at every problem you encounter?’ The words fell out of her mouth without the approval of her brain. ‘Because you ought to know that spending money on me isn’t going to change the way I feel about you, so if that’s why you’re doing this, you shouldn’t waste your money.’
His fingers stilled on the keys. ‘If a problem can be solved with money, then I use money. You have no clothes that fit your new life, so I’m solving that problem.’ His response to her impassioned outburst was supremely logical. ‘And I don’t expect it to change the way you feel about me.’
‘Good, because it doesn’t.’ She wondered why she suddenly felt ungrateful. ‘But I’d rather not be in debt to you for the rest of my life if you don’t mind. So could you snap your fingers or whatever it is you do when you want attention, and ask them to bring something in a more realistic price range? Tell them I want normal-person clothes. The sort I can wear around the supermarket.’
‘You w
on’t be going anywhere near a supermarket for the foreseeable future. And they’ve chosen well.’ His gaze lingered on the dress. ‘It’s perfect for the role you’ll be playing.’
He was reminding her that this was a role. That none of this was real.
That she wasn’t dressing up for him.
He didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.
