Part 5 (1/2)

She could feel the edge of the blade, flat on. All he had to do was twist his wrist ...

Terror and sickness dissolved her. '... OK,' she managed to get out.

He smiled. 'That's good.' He slid the flat of the blade down her cheek. 'Shame to mark you. You're worth more unmarked. So, how much are you going to bring me?'

'A ... a hundred,' she said shakily.

He laughed nastily. 'Get real, babe. Just bring me the lot, OK? Cash, jewellery-whatever he pays you in. Don't hold out on me, now. I'll be watching you. Like I always do. Wherever you go, baby-wherever you go.'

As quickly as it had appeared the blade was gone and he was thrusting her back. Pulling his helmet on and climbing on his bike. She stood, shaking, on the pavement. He turned to smile at her. His eyes were like pits.

'Like I say, shame to mark beautiful girls. But ...' He sighed. 'Sometimes they just don't learn. Like your friend Katya. She didn't want to put out for the punters. Now she couldn't sell herself to a blind man!' He laughed, a sound as sick as the words he'd just said, gunned the engine, and roared off down the road.

Somehow Kat made it back to her bedsit, shaking like a leaf. With fumbling hands she found her mobile. When Katya answered she sounded distraught.

'I'm sorry,' she kept saying. 'I'm sorry. He was already threatening me when I got you in for your portfolio shots. He's been after you since then. Kat, do what he wants! Whatever he wants! Photos, money, men-just do it! Don't say no to him, Kat! Don't say no!' Kat could hear, through her own terror, Katya's.

'Oh, G.o.d,' she whispered. 'What did he do?'

There was a silence. Then, 'He cut my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He cut them and cut them. All over.'

CHAPTER FOUR.

KAT was calm-very calm. It was her only option. Otherwise she would break down into hysteria. She knew what she had to do. The police would be useless. Unless they gave her round-the-clock protection, Mike would always find her. Would always be trailing her. Stalking her. Threatening her. She would have to buy him off the way he wanted-buy herself time until, with the money from the Monte Carlo shoot, she could hire her own protection and work to get Mike caught for attacking Katya and threatening herself. Once she'd got a signed contract surely she could raise cash on the expectation? Enough to keep Mike at bay for now?

She headed for the agency.

Anita was at her desk. She was looking pleased with herself. 'Oh, there you are, sweetie. I've been trying to reach you. About the Monte Carlo shoot.' She smiled sweetly. 'They don't want you after all.'

Kat heard the words. But they didn't make sense. 'What do you mean?' Her voice was hollow.

'I mean they don't want you any more.' Anita's lip curled. 'Well, they did specify ”cla.s.sy”, and that's hardly you, is it?'

'But I've got to have that job,' Kat heard herself say. From very, very far away.

Anita laughed-a tinkling sound. 'Too bad,' she purred.

Too bad-the words echoed in Kat's head as her feet took her out of the agency, took her along the busy London pavement. She could feel fear start to crawl over her skin, memory bringing back the sick glitter in Mike's eyes, the sicker glint of his knife-blade-the same blade that had cut Katya's b.r.e.a.s.t.s ...

I've got to have that job. It's the only way to get Mike off me. I've got to get it back.

As she walked, thoughts-hectic, panicked-crowded into her brain. Dismay washed through her. Cold, like icy water. Angelos Petrakos had turned her down after all-and she knew why. Like a stone in her guts, she knew exactly why.

It's my own fault! He warned me, but I still couldn't keep my mouth shut. That's why he's pulled me from the shoot! That's why! But I don't understand. Why did they say I was on it yesterday and then pull me? How come one minute I'm on, the next I'm off! How could he change his mind like that? I don't get it-I just don't get it!

Confusion, dismay, and sick, gutting fear writhed within her. In her mind she saw Mike's knife glint in the light, heard Katya's terrified warning. Desperation scythed through her. She could do a runner-head out of London. But that would be to run from everything she'd achieved so far, to start all over again. And where? London was where the big modelling contracts were. Like the one she'd just lost.

I've got to get it back! I've got to try, at least! If I go to him-beg, crawl-maybe he'll change his mind back again. I'll be as meek and docile as he wants! Whatever it takes!

It was all she could do, and she knew it. Rage, fury, anger-all were useless now. Useless! Fear churned in her stomach. She had to batten it down. Keep it under control. Tight, tight control.

She went to the hotel first. It was the only place she knew to go. She walked up to the sw.a.n.ky receptionist and asked for him. The woman looked at her coolly.

'Mr Petrakos is not in his suite,' she told her. 'Try his office.'

'But I don't know-'

Kat stopped, and walked away. She found a library. Looked up 'Petrakos Marine', and the name of the boat company. It was all she could remember. She tracked down a London office for Petrakos International U.K. Phoned the number. Got pa.s.sed around. Then, finally, 'Mr Petrakos is in Dublin today. He'll be back tonight and in the office tomorrow.'

Relief washed through her. For all she'd known Angelos Petrakos could be back in Greece now-or on the other side of the world. But he was coming back to London. He hadn't checked out of his suite. He'd be there tonight.

And so would she.

To prostrate herself before the almighty Angelos Petrakos and beg him to hire her after all.

Angelos rolled his shoulders and ma.s.saged the nape of his neck. His jacket was draped over the back of a chair, his tie likewise. It had been a long day. But tomorrow he'd set an easier pace-with a highly enjoyable evening to look forward to.

Courtesy of Kat Jones.

He'd made the right decision, he knew. He wasn't about to question it any further. It would be, he knew, electric. Kat Jones was so utterly different from his usual choice of woman. True, that meant that his affair with her would be highly restricted-but, however brief, it would be enjoyable. He looked forward to seeing her wary antagonism towards him change to something very different ...

For a moment he considered getting in touch with her now, but decided against it. He had things to go through from his Dublin meeting that he wanted to be shot of first. He strolled to the sideboard, slipping his cufflinks and dropping them on to its surface, following suit with his watch, turning up his s.h.i.+rt-cuffs. He picked up the first report and lowered himself down on the sofa to read it. A minute later the doorbell sounded. That would be the suite butler, bringing his coffee. Absently he pressed the console to open the door for him, his eyes swiftly perusing the words in front of him.

He heard the door open, but paid no attention. The man knew his business, and knew not to disturb hotel guests. Then something-instinct, or the faint catch of body scent-made him whip his head round.

Kat Jones had walked into his suite.

She stood very still. Her heart was pounding. Adrenaline surging in her body. Crackling through her like overloaded static.

Mike was outside in the street-he'd been d.o.g.g.i.ng her footsteps all day, trailing her on his motorbike. Keeping the sick fear churning inside her. Now he was waiting outside the hotel. Not close enough to draw the attention of the doorman. Close enough to make sure she saw him. Saw him lift a finger to his own cheek and draw it down, slowly, deliberately. Smiling at her.

She got the message. Right in her terror centre.

Now, as she walked into Angelos Petrakos's suite, she felt as if a garrotte were strangling her.

I've got to get that job back.

Angelos Petrakos got to his feet. She saw him, but it was as if he was underwater, or behind gla.s.s, very far away.

'Kat.'

She heard her name. Heard the deep, accented voice. Heard it and felt it do things to her. Things that didn't matter. Not now, when all that mattered was why she was here.

'I was not expecting you,' he said. His tone was even, but his expression was veiled.

'I-I wanted to see you.' How she got the words out she didn't know. They came out as a low husk. It was all she could manage through her stricken throat.