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  ‘I’m not your responsibility. I don’t want your help. I hate you.’ She glanced around the sumptuous apartment, feeling disloyal to Johnny just by being there. The contrast between this and the desolate place where he’d spent his last few hours was painful to think about. ‘Why would you even want to help me, knowing the way I feel about you?’

  A muscle flickered in his lean cheek. ‘You lost your brother. I don’t blame you for the things you feel about me.’

  It was emotion, and Silvio Brianza didn’t do emotion.

  ‘Well, I blame you, Silvio!’ Her voice shook with enough passion for both of them. ‘You gave him the money. Without that he wouldn’t have been able to do it.’

  His eyes darkened and he seemed about to say something, but then changed his mind. ‘I know what I did.’ His tone was flat. Neutral. He made no attempt to dodge her accusations or excuse himself. ‘And I know you blame me.’

  ‘Is that why you’re helping me? Guilt? I thought you never looked back. I thought you always look forward.’

  He took so long to answer that she wondered if he’d heard her question.

  And then he inhaled slowly. ‘I’ve already lost him,’ he breathed. ‘I won’t lose you, too. That’s looking forward.’

  His words sent a shiver of awareness through her body and a deep, heavy sadness because she knew they’d lost each other years before.

  It was all too late. The blame and recrimination had eroded their relationship as surely as the weather eroded rock. It had been reshaped into something she no longer recognised.

  ‘I can’t pretend to be…’ it was difficult to say the words ‘…your woman.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Johnny would have wanted you to do whatever it took to keep yourself safe.’

  Jessie’s heart was pounding against her chest. ‘So you’re going to move me into your fancy apartment, dress me up in some shiny new clothes and kiss me in public, is that it?’

  ‘You’ll go where I go.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth. ‘And I’ll kiss you when I want to kiss you.’ He was self-assured, strong and more of a man than anyone else she’d ever met.

  And the mention of kissing knocked the strength from her knees. ‘It’s a crazy plan.’

  ‘What’s crazy about it?’

  ‘Well, for a start your current girlfriend is likely to object that you’ve moved some lowlife into your apartment.’

  ‘Don’t speak about yourself like that. And—I’m not in a relationship at the moment.’

  Jessie looked at him in disbelief. ‘Oh, sure. A man like you must really have to scrabble around for a date. I’m not naïve, Silvio. Women have always found you irresistible. I know you get thousands of offers.’

  He didn’t smile. ‘Just because I have the opportunity to sleep with a woman, it doesn’t mean I do,’ he said softly, his words a subtle condemnation of the life he believed she led. ‘I’ve always been extremely selective.’

  Jessie looked at him warily and then glanced around her. Nothing but the best for Silvio Brianza. Apartment, car—women. ‘All the more reason why no one is going to believe I’m your woman. I wouldn’t be convincing. I don’t know how to live in this world.’

  ‘This world is easy.’ His wry tone was tinged with humour. ‘It’s yours that’s the hard place to live.’

  ‘Life is hard, Silvio. That’s how it goes.’ She twisted the ends of her hair, aware that it had dried fluffy. ‘And how long do we keep this charade up for?’

  ‘Until I say it can stop.’

  Jessie looked at him in exasperation. ‘They’ll never believe you. No woman involved with you would work in a seedy bar.’

  Silvio gave a grim smile. ‘You no longer have that job.’

  ‘You lost me my job?’

  ‘You don’t need a job that requires you to dress like the centrefold of a pornographic magazine.’

  ‘It paid well!’

  ‘For all the wrong reasons. You’re not going back there.’ His voice harsh, he made it clear that there was no room for negotiation on that point.

  Outraged and suddenly frightened, Jessie paced across the pale wooden floor. ‘You shouldn’t have done that, Silvio.’

  ‘Did you love the job that much?’

  She stopped pacing and stared straight ahead of her. ‘No,’ she croaked. ‘No, of course I didn’t. But I don’t want you taking control of my life! How am I supposed to earn money? How am I supposed to pay them back? And whether or not we go ahead with this charade you’re proposing, I’m going to need a job when it finishes.’

  ‘I’ll give you a job.’

  Jessie glared at him. ‘I don’t want your charity.’

  ‘It isn’t charity. It’s employment.’

  ‘How can you offer me a job?’ Fraught and exhausted, Jessie gave a hysterical laugh. ‘You build hotels.’

  ‘Once they’re built, my hotels are run by a team of people. Live music is one of the entertainments we offer.’

  ‘You’re offering me a job as a singer?’

  ‘I’m certainly not expecting you to lift bricks.’

  Pride warred with practicality. She wanted to tell him she’d rather die than accept a job from him. The problem was, if she didn’t accept it, dying might well be her fate.

  She stood still, aware of his unwavering scrutiny, knowing that this was a turning point for her. She had to make a decision.

  Her survival instincts proved stronger than her principles.

  It wasn’t really charity, was it, if he was paying her to do a job?

  And the opportunity to move away, somewhere miles from here, was too tempting to reject out of hand.

  ‘Where would I go?’

  ‘To start with, Sicily. My flagship hotel opened last month and we’re hosting the celebrity wedding of the year in a few days’ time. Gisella Howard is marrying Brentwood Altingham the Third.’ The name brought a faint smile to his hard mouth. ‘Old money. Very old money.’

  Trying not to look impressed, Jessie shrugged. ‘Do they know you were from the streets?’

  ‘That’s why they’ve chosen my hotel.’ His eyes gleamed with irony. ‘They’re confident I can handle security.’

  And they were right, Jessie thought, remembering the bold, fearless way he’d extracted her from danger. ‘And you’ve employed all your dangerous friends to keep the paparazzi at a distance.’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘So you’re offering me a job in a super-smart hotel?’ Impossibly daunted, Jessie suddenly wished she had the confidence to take it. ‘I’m really going to fit in there wearing my gold dress.’

  ‘You won’t be wearing your gold dress. And it’s not open to negotiation.’ Silvio glanced at his Rolex. ‘It’s really late. You’re obviously exhausted so go and get some rest. Do me a favour and don’t try and escape because my team have instructions not to let you pass. Use my room. I’ll take one of the others. I have to go out for a while.’

  ‘Go out?’

  He was leaving her?

  The warm cocoon of safety that had surrounded her since she’d slammed into him in the alley evaporated and suddenly she wanted to beg him not to go. ‘W-where are you going?’

  ‘Out.’ Without elaborating, he strode towards the door, leaving Jessie immobilised with panic.

  What was so urgent that he had to go out in the middle of the night?

  And how was she going to keep herself safe without him?

  ‘Silvio…’ Her tone was urgent and he turned, a frown in his eyes, his mind clearly on something else.

  ‘What?’

  Jessie tried to ask him not to go. Her mouth opened but the words wouldn’t come. What was the matter with her? Why was she being so pathetic? ‘Nothing,’ she croaked finally. ‘I’ll see you.’ It required a monumental effort to hide how bad she felt, and for a moment she thought she’d failed because he stared at her, his gaze sharpening.

  ‘Non ti preoccupare. Don’t worry. You’re safe here, Jess. This place has state-of-the-art
security.’

  ‘I’m not worried.’ She snapped the words, hating herself for showing her insecurities and reminding herself that she’d been coping on her own for the past three years. Watching her own back.

  But in the last few hours she’d tasted safety and she didn’t want to let it go. After three years of sleeping with one eye open and living her life on a knife edge, she’d suddenly been able to relax, safe in the knowledge that he was the one in control.

  Aware that he was still watching her closely, Jessie managed a casual shrug. ‘Have fun.’ Where else would he be going at this time of night but to see a woman? And why should that thought make her feel so miserable?

  Silvio checked his watch again. ‘Get to bed, Jessie.’ As the door clicked shut behind him, Jessie flinched.

  Suddenly she was aware of the enormous space around her and felt terrifyingly vulnerable. Looking around her, she wondered what he meant by ‘state-of-the-art security’. Presumably not her, holding a saucepan, ready to bash an intruder.

  How were you supposed to know if anyone was lying in wait in a place like this?

  It was full of dark, hidden spaces.

  Having worked herself into a panic, Jessie tried telling herself that any apartment he’d built was bound to be secure but she knew it wasn’t the building that had provided that security blanket.

  It had been the man.

  And he’d gone.

  It was hours later when Silvio arrived back at the apartment.

  Grimly satisfied with what he’d achieved, he dismissed the hovering staff and poured himself a drink.

  As the first streaks of dawn split the night sky, he stared sightlessly through the glass, trying not to think what would have happened to her if he hadn’t chosen to return when he had. What he’d learned about her life over the past few hours had turned his insides ice cold.

  He’d asked questions, called in favours, exploited contacts, all the time spreading the same message:

  That Jessie was his and no other man’s.

  He’d been unable to think of any other way of ensuring her protection.

  Draining his drink in a single mouthful, he reflected on the irony of the situation.

  It was a good job that both of them were private people, he thought grimly as he stared into his empty glass, otherwise everyone would know that an emotional involvement between the two of them was impossible.

  The apartment was silent as he walked towards one of the guest suites but he paused outside the master bedroom, unable to resist the impulse to check on her.

  Opening the door quietly, he looked at the bed and saw it empty.

  There was no sign of her.

  Preparing to fire his head of security, Silvio was about to leave the room and create hell when he noticed that the velvet throw from the bed was missing. Frowning, he strolled into the room, a suspicion forming in his mind.

  He checked the bathroom and then moved across to the dressing room. It was in darkness. Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, he stilled for a moment and tried to think like her.

  Her childhood fear of being trapped had never left her and he hadn’t needed to witness her performance earlier to know how much she hated being on the top floor. A penthouse to Jessie wasn’t real-estate heaven—it was hell. Knowing that, he also knew that there was no way she’d shut herself in a dressing room.

  Turning his head, Silvio narrowed his eyes and rejected the possibility that flew into his head.

  No, she wouldn’t—

  Or maybe she would.

  Silently, he moved through the bedroom and paused outside the door that concealed the escape slide. It was open a crack and he slid his fingers into the gap and widened it.

  Jessie lay curled up on the floor only centimetres away from the top of the slide, her slender body swamped by the huge throw from the bed, her arm flung protectively over the shoebox.

  Silvio stared down at her in silence, a thousand emotions rushing through his head.

  What terror inhabited her mind that she’d rather sleep in the bottom of a cupboard than in his comfortable bed? His apartment was protected by the most sophisticated security in existence, but Jessie hadn’t trusted it.

  He saw the faint smudge of make-up under her eyes and realised that she’d been crying.

  The fact that she’d waited for privacy before she’d allowed herself to cry created more strain on his conscience.

  She hadn’t wanted to break down in front of him and he should be grateful for that, shouldn’t he? He knew nothing about offering comfort to a woman and all he’d ever done to Jessie was hurt her.

  Lifting her easily, he carried her back to the bed and her eyes opened. Her lids were heavy, her eyes glazed with sleep.

  ‘Silvio—’

  ‘Go back to sleep.’ The taste of regret made his voice gruff and he lowered her to the mattress and tucked the throw around her. Was she going to beg him to put her back in the escape chute?

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, her hand slid into his and Silvio tensed because it was so unlike Jessie to show weakness and he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. Ordinarily he was the last man to whom she would turn for comfort and the fact that she had reached for his hand told him that she must be desperate.

  Without breathing, he looked down at their joined hands—saw the fragility of her pale, delicate fingers placed trustingly in his strong palm. After a moment’s hesitation he closed his fingers over hers and Jessie sighed softly.

  ‘I’m glad you’re home,’ she said sleepily, a smile hovering around her mouth as her eyes drifted shut again. ‘Are you going out again?’

  Knowing that if she’d been fully awake she would have consigned him to hell, Silvio found it difficult to speak. ‘No,’ he said finally, his voice rough around the edges, ‘no, I’m not going anywhere, tesoro. You can sleep now.’

  And she did. With the smile still on her face and her hand locked in his.

  Trapped there, Silvio found himself forced to confront issues he didn’t want to confront.

  Like the dangerous chemistry that drew them together.

  And the fact that because of him, she’d lost the most important thing in her life.

  Silvio stared down at her pale face and narrow shoulders and at the battered shoebox that she was gripping like a lifeline.

  He wanted to open it to see what it was that she refused to be parted from, but he didn’t want to risk waking her. Neither did he want to intrude on her privacy because he knew how much that mattered to her.

  The resolve hardened inside him.

  He couldn’t undo what had been done. He couldn’t bring back her brother.

  But he could take her away from the life she’d fallen into.

  He could take her away from this hell that was all she thought she deserved, and give her something different.

  He owed her that.

  Chapter Four

  ‘YOU don’t have to take me shopping.’ It was another blow to her badly damaged pride that he’d suggested it. ‘It’s a luxury I can’t afford.’

  ‘You need clothes,’ Silvio said smoothly. ‘It isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity.’

  Unable to argue with that, Jessie shrank lower in the passenger seat of his Ferrari, averting her eyes from the stares. She felt as though everyone was a witness to her humiliation. ‘Just a couple of things, then. Maybe another pair of jeans. Do you have to drive this car? Everyone is looking.’

  But she knew that the driver was every bit as conspicuous as his car. With his Mediterranean good looks and spectacular physique, Silvio drew covetous glances wherever he went.

  ‘You would have preferred a chauffeur-driven limousine?’ He pulled the car up on a double yellow line outside the most exclusive store in Knightsbridge and a uniformed man immediately sprang forward.

  ‘Mr Brianza.’ His voice oozed awe and respect and Silvio tossed him the keys and said something that Jessie didn’t catch.

  ‘I don’t
think they sell my sort of clothes here.’ Stepping cautiously onto the pavement, she glanced around her furtively, daunted by the throng of beautifully groomed women who strode past her in tailored skirts and vertiginous heels, all of them brimming with confidence. Gazing at one woman’s perfect straight hair, she fingered her tumbled dark curls self-consciously and then stiffened as Silvio took her arm.

  ‘Try not to look as though you’re expecting someone to assault you,’ he said mildly, guiding her towards the glass doors with a purposeful stride. ‘You’re with me now. No one is going to touch you.’

  He was touching her, and the feel of his hand on her arm and the brush of his body against hers created a lethal assault on her senses that was as unwelcome as her disturbingly clear memories of nestling against him while she’d slept.

  Instead of pushing him away and telling him she didn’t need him, she’d clung to his hand as a drowning man might have clung to a floating object in a raging river.

  He hadn’t mentioned what had happened, but she’d thought about nothing else. Although she’d been alone in the bed when she’d woken up, she knew he’d stayed beside her for the rest of the night.

  Something else she was supposed to feel grateful for, Jessie thought moodily, staring in disbelief at the perfect arch of a woman’s eyebrows as she hurried past on her way to somewhere important. Her image of him as a cold-hearted monster was becoming uncomfortably distorted.

  Cringing at the memory of how frightened she’d been once he’d left the flat, Jessie scolded herself silently. She was pathetic. She just hoped his fancy apartment didn’t have CCTV or he’d be treated to some embarrassing footage of her checking under the bed and inside the wardrobes before finally allowing herself to sleep.

  As Silvio guided her into a lift Jessie stared in front of her, determined not to look at the mirrored walls. She knew what she’d see. A woman who wasn’t supposed to be there.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about this suggestion of yours.’