Bought: Destitute Yet Defiant (5 page)

Was this where he brought his women?

Did he kiss them the way he’d kissed her?

Forcing aside that unsettling thought, she snatched up the shoebox she’d rescued from her flat and tucked it under her arm. Then she padded over to the dressing room, aware that the last place she’d lived would have fitted into this space with room to spare. It was huge.

A door had been left open for her and she peeped inside, like a nervous child exploring its mother’s wardrobe, afraid of being caught.

Her mouth fell open because she’d never seen anything like it, even in her dreams.

There were racks of shoes stored in transparent boxes; jumpers and T-shirts in a rainbow of colours, all perfectly folded, and rails of shimmering, glamorous dresses.

Jessie reached out a hand and touched one of the dresses, the silk sliding over her fingers like fluid. There was nothing cheap here. Nothing suitable for the life she led.

The clothes went with the apartment and the apartment was the domain of the super-rich. She bent to tuck her battered, cardboard shoebox safely into the corner of the cupboard, out of sight.

‘Are you all right?’ His voice came from behind her and Jessie jumped as if she’d been caught stealing, clutching the edges of the dressing gown together at her throat to make sure that not a millimetre of flesh was exposed.

‘I’m fine.’

‘You were quick.’

She stiffened defensively, not wanting to admit that she was too jumpy to relax. ‘I spent as long as I needed.’

‘Why aren’t you dressed?’

Jessie gave a humourless laugh and glanced over her shoulder at the rails of clothes. ‘Because I couldn’t see anything suitable.’

His gaze slid to the rails of clothes and a faint smile touched his mouth. ‘That’s a very female remark. A closet full of clothes and nothing to wear.’

‘They’re not right.’

‘Nothing fits?’

‘I have no idea if anything fits me! I haven’t tried any of them on.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t wear any of that stuff, Silvio!’ Suddenly she wished she were wearing her heels. At least then she wouldn’t have felt quite so small and insignificant next to him. Or maybe she would. Acknowledging that her feelings of inferiority came from the inside, Jessie glared at him, exasperated that he had so little clue as to how she was feeling. ‘Where am I going to wear fancy stuff like this? I can hardly walk around the streets wearing a floor-length gown, can I?’

‘You’re not going to be walking around the streets.’ Studying her face, he leaned against the doorframe, supremely relaxed and indecently good-looking.

Jessie noticed that he’d showered and changed, his dark hair slightly spiky from the water, his lean, powerful legs encased in clean, black jeans. An expensive watch glinted from beneath the cuff of his tailored shirt and Jessie wondered idly how much it had cost him.

More than she’d earned in her lifetime
.

He looked as sleek and expensive as the apartment he lived in and the car he drove.

But most importantly of all, he was comfortable here. As comfortable as he’d been in the dirty alley. He was able to move between the two worlds without faltering.

Feeling the gulf between them widen, Jessie took a step backwards. Once she’d adored him. But that had been a long time ago. Now she didn’t even know him. ‘Look…’ She cleared her throat. ‘If you could just find me a pair of old jeans or something, that will be fine. Then I can get out of here and leave you to your life.’

Without responding, Silvio opened another cupboard and moments later he pushed several pieces of clothing into her arms. ‘Try these. They should do until we can find you something else.’

Jessie looked down at the soft denim and nodded. ‘This is perfect,’ she said gruffly. ‘I don’t need anything else. I have stuff in my flat.’ The thought of going back there left her cold with fear and he obviously had a similar reaction because his eyes hardened.

‘Give me a list of the things you need and I’ll send someone.’

Jessie shrank inwardly at the thought of anyone seeing how little she owned. ‘There’s no need. I have to go back anyway.’

‘You’re not going back, Jess. For the time being, you’ll be living with me.’

Relief mingled with outrage and she wondered why being with this man triggered such contradictory emotions. ‘Are you planning to keep me locked up here in your fancy bachelor pad just so that they can’t get me?’ Her laugh was high-pitched. ‘That would cramp your style. I can just imagine what your new posh friends would say if they met me.’

‘They’d like you. And if they didn’t like you that would be their problem, not yours.’

Jessie turned away from him, staring into the wardrobe to hide the humiliating glitter of tears that she felt in her eyes. She must be tired, to be this close to crying. ‘I can’t stay here with you. It feels wrong.’ She didn’t add that she felt grubby and out of place. ‘I need to leave now. I have to leave.’ She said the words for her own benefit as much as his, trying to force herself to do the right thing. But nausea churned in her stomach at the thought of leaving. If she walked away from him, she’d be walking away from safety.
Did she really want to keep struggling and looking over her shoulder
?

‘Don’t waste time arguing with yourself.’ Reading her mind, he strolled towards the door of the dressing room. ‘You’re not going anywhere, Jess. You’re staying with me until I tell you it’s safe for you to go back out there—and that’s non-negotiable.’

Her eyes slid to his and she met his hard, unflinching gaze. He was being macho and over-protective and she knew she ought to argue with him. It horrified her to discover that she didn’t want to.

Being protected felt good
.

‘Do you think they’ll come after me?’

‘I know they’ll come after you. They’re going to check that I told them the truth. But you don’t need to be scared.’ He spoke with the cool conviction of someone who’d never been scared of anything in his life. ‘This place is a fortress. They can’t get to you here.’

Something he’d said nagged at her brain. ‘What do you mean, they’re going to check that you told them the truth? The truth about what? What did you say to them? Why did they back off?’ Her heart rate was suddenly twice as fast and her palms were clammy as she recalled those terrifying moments in the alleyway. ‘They shouldn’t have let me go. I thought they were going to kill me—’

Tension rippled through his powerful frame and she wondered whether he’d always seemed this intimidating or whether she was just feeling more vulnerable than usual.

‘Silvio? How did you persuade them not to?’ Her mouth was suddenly dry and her limbs turned liquid. ‘
What did you say?
’

The silence stretched between them and he held her gaze, his dark eyes burning into hers. ‘I told them the one thing guaranteed to ensure that no one touches you.’ His tone had a raw, elemental edge and he studied her with brooding concentration. ‘I told them you’re my woman.’

‘T
ELL
me what you’d like to eat and my chef will cook it. Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes?’

‘You told them I’m your woman. Why would you do that?’ Jessie paced the length of his enormous living room, unable to focus on anything except what he’d just told her. ‘I can’t believe you did that.’

His woman…

Her stomach dropped because it was uncomfortably close to her adolescent fantasies. When other girls had been drooling over boy bands and football stars, Jessie had been thinking about Silvio Brianza. When she’d seen him with different women it had caused an almost physical pain and the depth of her misery had been intensified by the humiliating knowledge that he had been aware of her feelings.

She’d loved him until she’d ached, but he’d never treated her as anything other than his best friend’s little sister.

They were separated by ten years and a gulf of experience.

And that gulf had been made even wider by the circumstances of her brother’s death.

She was betraying him by even being here.

‘Food, Jess,’ he said patiently, and she glanced towards him, too agitated to concentrate. Everything felt alien. The environment, him, even the clothes.

The jeans and the thin cashmere jumper fitted her perfectly but they felt like nothing she’d ever worn before.

It was amazing what money could buy
.

‘How can you think about food?’ she said hoarsely. ‘We need to talk about this!’

‘We’ll talk when you’ve eaten.’ Maddeningly calm, Silvio turned to a woman who was hovering and spoke to her in Italian. Then he turned back to Jessie. ‘She’ll ask the chef to prepare something. You’re too thin. When did you last eat?’

‘I’m not thin, and, Silvio, we need to—’

‘No, we don’t need to do anything. You need to trust me.’ He strolled towards the large glass table that was the focus of the far end of the enormous room. ‘Come and join me.’

Torn between gnawing hunger and raging guilt, she didn’t move.

‘Sit, Jess.’ His tone was neutral, as if he were bored with the entire situation. ‘Or do you hate me so much you can’t sit at my table?’

Jessie stared at him in silence, wondering how it was possible to feel so many things about one man. ‘I can’t sit at your table,’ she said huskily, twisting the edge of the jumper with nervous fingers. ‘I can’t eat your food or sleep in your bed. I just can’t. I know you saved me tonight, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about you.’

His face revealed no emotion but his hand closed over the back of one chair, his knuckles white. ‘So you’d rather starve yourself and put yourself at risk?’

‘I can look after myself.’

He had the grace not to laugh. ‘You need help, Jess.’

‘I don’t want help.’

‘You mean you don’t want help from
me
.’ Dragging the chair back from the table, he sat down, his eyes still fastened on her. His jaw was dark with stubble, his legs long
and lean, and he looked like every woman’s dark, forbidden fantasy.

‘You’re right,’ Jessie croaked, registering the sudden weakening of her knees with a spasm of bitter regret. ‘I don’t want help from you. I don’t want anything from you.’

Silvio reached out a hand and toyed with his fork, his movements slow and deliberate. ‘If you leave this place tonight,’ he said softly, ‘they’ll find you. Is that really what you want?’

Jessie rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to control the shivering. ‘I can protect myself.’

‘Like you did tonight? I’m not giving you a choice, Jess, so you don’t need to stand there wondering whether you’re betraying your brother’s memory by eating at my table. It isn’t your decision. If it makes you feel better you can tell yourself I’m holding you against your will.’ A humourless smile tugged at the corners of his sensual mouth. ‘Another crime to add to the many I’ve already committed against you.’

Dragging her eyes from his, Jessie looked at the window and thought about what was waiting for her out there in the darkness and the rain.

If she left him, she’d die and it was no use pretending otherwise.

He was the only one who could protect her against what was out there.

As if to undermine her resolve still further, at that moment several staff emerged and placed food on the table and her stomach gave an embarrassing rumble.

‘You might as well eat while you’re agonising over whether it’s all right to accept my help.’ Silvio gestured impatiently towards the table. ‘Sit, Jess.’

The scent of fried bacon made her mouth water and she walked towards the table as hesitantly as a gazelle might approach a waterhole, knowing that a predator was watching.

Fortunately the table was large enough to allow dining without intimacy.

She pulled out the chair at the far end of the table from him. ‘This place is huge.’

‘Space is important to me.’

‘Because of all those years cramped in one room?’

A shadow flickered across his face. ‘Something like that.’

‘Well, you’ve certainly left all that behind.’ Curious in spite of herself, Jessie looked around her, momentarily distracted by what she saw. ‘Did you build this?’

‘Not with my bare hands, if that’s what you’re asking.’ His low, masculine drawl was tinged with amusement. ‘My company built it.’

It was impossible not to be impressed by what he’d achieved. ‘You used to do it with your bare hands. You used to haul the bricks and sweat alongside the men.’ Looking at the swell of muscle under the thin fabric of his expensive shirt, she wondered whether he still did. Something had to be responsible for his athletic physique and the raw power in those shoulders. That wasn’t the body of a man who spent his days at a desk, pushing paper.

His next words confirmed her suspicions. ‘I still do some of the physical work, but even I don’t have time to erect entire apartment buildings and hotels single-handed. Are you going to eat standing up?’

Jessie sat on the edge of the chair. He obviously wasn’t going to talk properly until she’d eaten, so she might as well eat. ‘This company of yours—tell me what else you build.’ She eyed the sleek glass table, wondering if it would crack if you put something heavy on it.

‘Mostly hotels. But I can be persuaded to build corporate premises if the project interests me enough.’

Jessie lifted a knife in her hand and turned it, the silver
catching the light and winking at her. Silver. ‘You’ve come a long way from the building site.’

‘That was the intention.’

‘But you chose to build your fancy apartment block in the roughest part of London. You look out of your window every day and see what you left behind. A psychologist would say you were trying to prove something.’

‘And an analyst would say it was a shrewd investment. It’s a good position. In less than three years this has become the trendiest place to live in the city.’ He spoke with the confidence of someone whose judgements had proved unerring. ‘Right by the river. Close to the commercial heart of London.’

‘Uncomfortably close to the rough part of London.’

‘This is a cosmopolitan city.’ Silvio sat back in his chair as a chef dressed in white placed more food in the middle of the table. ‘
Grazie, Roberto
.’ He spoke a few words of Italian and the man melted away, leaving them alone again.

Determined not to show how impressed she was, Jessie stifled a laugh. ‘Does that guy stay up all night in case you want to eat?’

‘I have a team of chefs. They work a rota.’

‘You’re so rich now you can’t boil yourself an egg?’

‘I entertain a lot. Generally my guests expect more than a boiled egg.’

‘But tonight you’re slumming it. Stuck with me. Poor you.’ Hiding her self-consciousness behind bravado, Jessie leaned forward and lifted the lid from one of the plates. ‘Mmm. Bacon.’ Seduced by the delicious smell, she suddenly realised how hungry she was. ‘Can I help myself or does someone have to serve me?’

‘I thought you’d rather have privacy.’

In other words he was embarrassed by her. Jessie’s face flamed and she stabbed her fork into a few rashers of bacon,
telling herself that she didn’t care what he thought. ‘Don’t you want any?’

‘Not at the moment.’ Silvio poured himself a black coffee. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘I’m always hungry.’ Forgetting that she was trying to be reserved with him, Jessie looked at the bacon on her plate and wondered if she’d taken too much. Deciding that it would draw more attention to herself to put some of it back, she sat there awkwardly.

‘Is that all you’re going to eat?’ Silvio stood up and strolled round the table. Without asking for her input, he piled more bacon on her plate and then added a heap of fluffy scrambled eggs and warm, fresh rolls. ‘If you don’t eat it, you’ll offend my chef and I can’t afford to lose him. He’s too good at his job.’

Nibbling the corner of the most delicious roll she’d ever tasted, Jessie had to agree with him. ‘He cooks like this for you every day?’ She savoured the scrambled eggs, moaning with pleasure. ‘Is he married? Does he want to be?’

He ignored her question. ‘When you’ve finished eating you should try and get some more sleep. Tomorrow I’ll take you shopping.’ He was back at his end of the table, topping up his coffee.

Her mouth now full of hot bacon, Jessie stopped chewing and stared at him. Then she swallowed hard. ‘Shopping?’ She started to laugh because the idea was ridiculous. ‘You’re mixing me up with some other girl, Silvio. I don’t need new clothes—I need a new life, and you can’t buy that from Harvey Nichols. And anyway…’ without thinking, she picked up a piece of crispy bacon in her fingers and nibbled it ‘…I don’t have any spare money for shopping.’

‘You’ll be spending my money.’

Noticing the napkin next to her plate, Jessie started to wipe
her fingers and immediately smeared grease on the crisp, clean linen. Mortified, she considered trying to hide it but then realised that he was watching her. Her face scarlet, she shifted in her chair. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t concentrating. I picked the bacon up.’ Jessie clutched the napkin self-consciously. ‘I’ll wash it if you show me where.’

Astonishment lit his dark eyes. ‘Just leave it. Someone else will do it. Why would you even suggest it?’

She gave a hollow laugh and put the napkin carefully on the table. ‘Because I’m usually that someone else.’

He registered that comment with a slight hardening of his jaw. ‘Well, all that is going to change. Your life is going to change.’

Suddenly she didn’t feel like eating any more. ‘You think if you throw money at me, it will solve the problem?’

Her eyes lifted to his and they stared at each other in tense silence.

‘It will solve at least part of the problem.’

‘Money won’t change the way I feel about you and, anyway, I don’t need your money. I can earn my own.’ Seeing the flare of disapproval in his eyes, she sighed. Even though she knew the truth, it didn’t feel good knowing that he thought that about her. ‘Look—there’s something I need to tell you—’

‘Forget it. I don’t want to know.’ His tone was clipped. ‘What I do want to know is why you were paying off Johnny’s debts.’

Hearing his name knocked the breath from her body and Jessie sank her teeth into her lower lip, appalled by the sudden slug of emotion that hit her. ‘Don’t say his name.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I—I can’t—Just don’t!’ She was out of her chair, heart racing, the breath trapped in her throat, the food on her plate forgotten.

‘You’re paying for his mistakes, Jess,’ Silvio said, his voice low and savage. ‘It has to stop.’

‘It will stop when I’ve paid the money he owed.’

‘They want more than money from you,
tesoro
.’

The endearment cut right through to her heart. She didn’t want endearments. She didn’t want anything from him. ‘I know.’ Jessie started to pace again, feeling trapped in a situation not of her making. ‘I know what they want.’ And the knowledge had kept her awake every night for months.

‘
Maledezione
, every man who looks at you wants the same thing.’ He was out of his chair too, his tone thickened with anger, his hand slicing through the air. ‘Do you know what those men in the bar were thinking? Every last one of them was imagining you naked and thanks to your choice of dress, it didn’t take much imagination.’

‘Joe insists that his singers dress like that.’

‘Because the women he employs provide services other than their voices!’ He dragged his fingers through his hair, his beautiful features set and hard, power and authority stamped in every line of his handsome face. ‘I can’t believe you’d do that to yourself, Jess.’

‘What I do with my life is none of your business.’

‘It’s just become my business.’ He was unyielding and remorseless. ‘Why are you wasting your incredible voice in a place like that? You could be working anywhere.’

Jessie looked down at herself—at her borrowed clothes—and gave a cynical smile. ‘I’m a nightclub singer, Silvio.’

‘No. You’re a singer. It was your decision to use your voice in a nightclub. There are other choices.’

‘Not for people like me.’ She told herself that it was his height and build that made him seem intimidating.

‘Jess…’ He spoke her name through his teeth, as if he was struggling not to ignite. ‘Your voice is exceptional. Truly exceptional. With training, you could go right to the top. You’d be an international star.’

Jess was still for a moment, immobilised by the vision he’d painted. And then she remembered that dreams had a way of crumbling. ‘Hard to be an international star without a passport,’ she said flippantly, and Silvio made an impatient sound in his throat.

‘So it’s better to just give up, is that right?’

She swallowed. Not to anyone would she confess that when she sang, she wasn’t in a seedy club. She was up there, singing for an enraptured crowd of thousands. ‘Sometimes dreaming can make things worse.’

‘Dreaming can drive you forwards.’

‘Dreaming can emphasise the gap between hopes and reality.’

‘Then make the dream your reality!’ His eyes were two dangerous slits and Jessie looked at him uncertainly, shaken by the barely leashed anger she sensed in him.