Socialite's Gamble(25)

Feeling her body sag he bent to her ear. ‘Put your arms around my neck.’

She did, clinging to him for support, and then she was in his arms and he was carrying her back inside, her head tucked firmly under his chin.

Aidan threw the remaining paps a fulminating glare as he walked past and he didn’t stop until he was back in his room and had quickly deposited Cara on the deep-seated sofa.

She sniffed and gazed back at him with angry tears streaming down her face.

‘Here.’ He handed her a tissue and repeated his command of the night before. ‘This is becoming a habit. Blow.’

She sniffed again and took it, swiping at her eyes beneath her sunglasses before doing as he’d instructed.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked briskly.

‘No … not really.’

Aidan paced away from her. ‘What the hell happened down there? I thought you’d be used to handling those types of situations.’

She sat up straighter and folded her long legs underneath her. ‘I mistakenly thought the US press were nicer than the UK ones and I … I wasn’t thinking very clearly when I left my room.’

He shook his head. ‘No paparazzi are nice.’

‘You must think I’m pathetic,’ she murmured.

He scowled but didn’t answer her. She looked like a scared kitten that had just been plucked from its mother to be sent home with a new owner.

‘This is awful,’ she murmured. ‘I take it you know what the papers printed about last night.’

‘My senior editor rang this morning with the wonderful news. She wanted to know why I’d let the other papers have the exclusive.’

Cara gave a watery smile. ‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing. I don’t play into trashy gossip.’

‘Lucky for you because I hate to think about what they’re going to print after the way you just swooped in and rescued me. They’re going to say we’re a couple. Why did you do it, by the way?’

Good question, he thought. And one he didn’t have a readily acceptable answer for. And worse still, he hadn’t thought about how his actions would be perceived. He hadn’t thought about anything other than getting her out of harm’s way.

‘You were in trouble and no one else was helping. I would have done the same for anyone.’ Which was possibly true. ‘And why do you care so much about what the press think?’

She swiped at her face with the damp tissue. ‘I don’t.’

‘Then why are you crying?’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are,’ he said patiently. ‘And you clearly care.’

‘Well, so would you if you’d just hit rock bottom.’

Thinking that she was probably exaggerating he crossed his arms and tried not to look exasperated. ‘Why have you hit rock bottom?’

She frowned. ‘I was supposed to be on my best behaviour last night and this morning I sent a text telling Christos that I would stay out of sight until this whole thing blew over and he’s going to be so mad at me now because there will be even more pictures of me and—’

‘Take a breath, Cara. And who the hell’s Christos? A lover?’

‘No.’ Her eyes briefly dropped to his mouth and then just as quickly found the carpet between them. ‘Christos Giatrakos. He works for my father. He’s my boss. Sort of.’

‘Your boss?’

She let out a worried sigh. ‘He sent me to hostess the high-rollers room last night so that I could contribute to the family business with the specific instructions to not cause a scandal.’ She gave a little hiccup and told him the rest, including losing her lucrative deal with Demarche, the French cosmetic giant. ‘This might be one of my worst scandals to date. Put up as a stake between two men. God …’ She dropped her face in her hands. ‘I’ll never work again.’

‘You won’t if you keep crying,’ he growled, absently wondering what it was about this woman’s tears that moved him when usually a woman crying left him feeling like they were trying to emotionally manipulate him. An impossible task since he didn’t do emotions.

Somehow, though, he knew Cara Chatsfield’s tears were genuine and he felt sorry for her.

‘I can’t help the way I feel,’ she blurted out. ‘And I don’t understand why you’re not furious.’

‘Stories like this are a dime a dozen.’

‘Maybe. But you’re not the one they’re implying is a cheap tramp. The guy’s reputation never suffers in this situation. In fact, you just come out looking more virile and attractive. But me …’ She swiped at her eyes hidden by truly ugly sunglasses and her lips quivered as she fought back more tears.