Part 4 (2/2)

While she still could ...

She dumped her napkin on the tabletop, jerking to her feet. 'I'm sorry. I've got an early start tomorrow.' She sounded disjointed, but she couldn't help it. Couldn't help anything right now.

He'd got to his feet as well. It registered dimly with her, and for a moment she panicked, thinking she wouldn't be able to get away. Then she realised he was simply standing because she had. She forced herself to look at him. His face was shuttered again, his expression veiled. But she didn't dare look at his eyes. Didn't dare meet them ... not again.

'Thank you for dinner,' she got out, still in that disjointed manner. 'But I really do have to go.'

She stared around, trying to remember where the restaurant entrance was. A waiter came gliding over. Angelos Petrakos said something to him, and the man murmured acquiescently and glided off again.

Angelos turned back to Kat. 'A taxi will take you home,' he said.

'I can't afford-' she began automatically, but he simply raised a hand.

'The fare is taken care of,' he replied.

'Oh. Thanks. Um-' She fell silent. She was desperate to ask-So, are you going to hire me? Am I going on the shoot?

But she didn't dare. Didn't dare do anything except pick up her evening purse from the tabletop and clutch it for dear life.

'Goodnight, Kat,' said Angelos Petrakos to her. His eyes were still veiled, still unreadable. Her veins were still in meltdown. She had to get out-now. Right now.

Angelos watched her go, nearly b.u.mping into other tables in her haste. Almost, he went after her. Instead, he resumed his seat. Another waiter glided up, removing the empty plates, bringing him his entree. He started to eat, quite mechanically. His mind only on one thing.

Kat Jones. And what to do about her.

He made his decision.

Kat sat, collapsed, in the back of the taxi. She should have luxuriated in the ease of the journey, but she was still in shock. More than shock. Worse than shock. She was like one of those native peoples who suddenly got exposed to germs they had never had. Keeling over.

Oh, G.o.d, where did it come from? And why? Why him? The guy's an arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d-rich and almighty, Mr Big and Powerful. And I don't want, I don't want, I don't want to feel like this. I don't!

But she did. That was the awful part of it. And it was the weirdest, shakiest feeling. She kept wanting to replay it in her head, make his face come up in front of her, see him there as if he was real. Over and over again.

No! What are you thinking of? Just stop it-stop it!

But it was like an electric switch that couldn't be turned off again. It was on when she went to sleep, on when she woke up. On when she went to work.

Even her anxiety as to whether or not she had or hadn't managed to get on the Monaco shoot couldn't turn it off. Yet she knew, with her head, that the shoot was the only thing she must think about-worry about.

The moment she could she phoned the agency on her mobile, desperate for news, crossing every finger and toe as she asked the snooty cow Anita if they'd heard anything yet from the Petrakos Marine campaign managers. It took another two covert calls from the shoe shop's storeroom before Anita's condescension turned to ill-concealed chagrin-and sent elation soaring through Kat.

The ad agency had been in touch-she was on the shoot. And the fee that Anita grudgingly told her was ... well, fantastic money! Loads more than she'd ever made before!

She punched the air, and for the rest of the morning floated off the ground.

This was it-her big break! It had to be! Her first real money! Serious stuff! And with this shoot in the bag she'd be up for more of the same-and better. She was on the way-she was really, really on the way! The pit she'd crawled out of was getting further and further away, and she was reaching for the sun ...

Nothing could drag her down now. Nothing ...

As for Mr Big, and the insane way she'd reacted to him-well, even if he showed up during the shoot she'd just stay clear of him, that was all. She'd have to. She d.a.m.n well wasn't about to- But her thoughts stopped right there. Anything else was mad. That was all she had to remember. Mad.

Keep focussed-the job is all that matters. Nothing else.

It was what she had to hang on to. She'd lived without s.e.x in her life, and she'd go on doing so. And certainly not with someone like Angelos Petrakos.

He'd use you and lose you.

Her spine steeled. No, it didn't matter that she'd reacted the insane way she had last night. She'd got the job, and that was all that mattered.

That day she had to work through her lunch hour to make up for time she'd taken off to go to yesterday afternoon's casting, but she didn't care. Nothing could crush her elation-not now! She worked late, too, so she could make time to call in at the agency first thing tomorrow to sign the paperwork for the contract. She was still floating, all the way back to her bedsit, but as she walked from the bus stop her feet abruptly sank to the ground-along with her elation. Mike was hovering at the kerb, his motorbike engine idling. Oh, h.e.l.l, was her first thought. She could really do without the guy right now! Why didn't he just give in and accept she wasn't interested? Instead of pestering her like this and hanging around, turning up when he wasn't wanted-would never be wanted. She started to walk along the narrow pavement. He drew level with her on the bike.

'Mike,' she began, 'look, I really don't have time for this-'

He steered his bike across her path, blocking it. He took his helmet off. Kat stopped dead and gave a heavy, exasperated sigh, glaring at him.

There was something different about him, she registered. It was his eyes. They were glittery.

'No time for me, baby? That it?' he said.

'Mike-' she tried again, but he cut right across her.

'But you've got time to hang out with your loaded rich guy, haven't you? I saw you last night in that hotel, schmoozing him, coming on to him!'

She stared. 'How did you-?'

He laughed harshly. 'I followed you! I follow you everywhere! You showed up at the hotel in the afternoon, and then again in the evening. I walked in and saw you in the restaurant with him. So you come across for rich guys, do you, baby?'

Anger spat through her. 'I was there for a casting, that's all!'

He laughed again-derisively. 'Yeah, casting couch. You put out for him and he gives you the job! Well, don't worry, baby. That suits me fine.'

'Get lost!' she snarled at him. She made to get past him, around the back of the bike. His hand shot out and closed over her arm. It was like a vice. She yanked to free herself, and failed. 'Let me go!'

For answer, he just hauled her forward, almost up against him. Fear suddenly spiked through her. The road was deserted, the streetlight broken, and it wasn't a good part of town in the first place.

'Uh-uh, babe. I'm fed up with giving you slack, OK? Time for you to put out for me.'

'In your dreams!' she spat at him, again trying to yank herself free. Anger overriding her fear now.

He gave another laugh. His eyes glittered more intensely. She realised, with a jolt, that he was high.

'Uh-uh. In my photos. Oh, come on, baby-what d'ya think I want? Sure, I want to screw you first, but then it's for the punters, see? Now, you may think they only like big girls like Katya, but trust me, babe, they like skinnies like you, too. I'll make you look really hot! You'll make good money, don't worry!'

He grinned at her. Kat's face contorted. She lashed out with her foot, impacting his s.h.i.+n, tugging back on her arm again. But Mike was strong. Frighteningly strong. He yanked her closer.

'Wanna fight me, babe?' Something glinted in his free hand, and with sick horror Kat realised it was a blade. He whipped it to her cheek. 'Just how hot will your modelling career be when you've been razored? So let's do this nicely, huh?' Then, suddenly, his tone changed. ''Course, you could always keep me happy another way. Now you're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Mr Rich you can afford to be generous. You pay me what he's paying you, and we'll call it quits, OK?'

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