He didn’t answer for a moment, but instead leaned back against one of the giant sofas and looked at her, his arms folded across his broad chest. Yet for all his supposedly casual stance, Alannah felt a chill of foreboding as his eyes met hers. There was a patina of power surrounding him which she hadn’t noticed in that long-ago nightclub. There was a hardness about him which you didn’t find in your average man. Suddenly he looked formidable—as if he was determined to remind her just who she was dealing with.
‘I think we both know a simple way to resolve this,’ he said softly. ‘All you have to do is step out of the spotlight right now. Do that and there will be no problem. Michela is about to marry a very powerful man. She is about to take on an important role as a new wife. In time, she hopes to have children and her friends will be role models to them. And…’
‘And?’ she questioned, but she knew what was coming. It was crystal clear from the look on his face.
‘You are not an appropriate role model,’ he said. ‘You’re not the kind of woman I want fraternising with my nephews and nieces.’
Her heart was beating very fast. ‘Don’t you dare judge me,’ she said, but her voice wasn’t quite steady.
‘Then why not make it easy for yourself? Tell Michela you’ve changed your mind about acting as her bridesmaid.’
‘Too late!’ Forcing herself to stay strong, she held up her palms in front of her, like a policeman stepping into the road to stop the traffic. ‘I’ve made my own dress, which is currently swathed in plastic in my room, waiting for me to put it on just before noon tomorrow. I’m wearing scarlet silk to emphasise the wedding’s winter theme,’ she added chattily.
‘But it’s not going to happen,’ he said repressively. ‘Do you really think I would let it?’
For a moment Alannah felt another shimmer of doubt flicker into the equation. The quiet resolution of his voice scared her and so did the forthright expression in his eyes. Somehow he was making her feel…vulnerable. And she wasn’t going to let that happen. Because she didn’t do vulnerable. Not any more. Vulnerable got you nowhere. It made you fall down when life landed one of its killer punches and think you’d never be able to get back up again. It made you easy prey to powerful predators like Niccolò da Conti. ‘How wicked you make me sound,’ she said.
‘Not wicked,’ he corrected silkily. ‘Just misguided, out-of-control and sexually precocious. And I don’t want any publicity generated by the presence of Stacked magazine’s most popular pin-up.’
‘But nobody—’
‘Michela has already mistakenly tried to tell me that nobody will know,’ he interrupted impatiently. ‘But they will. The magazines you stripped for have become collectors’ items and back issues now change hands for thousands of dollars. And I’ve just been informed that a film of you has made its way onto YouTube, raising your public profile even further. It doesn’t matter what you wear or what you don’t wear—you still have the kind of body which occupies a fertile part of the male imagination. Men still look at you and find themselves thinking of one thing—and only one thing.’
Alannah tried not to cringe, but unfortunately his words struck home. Clever, cruel Niccolò had— unwittingly or not—tapped into her biggest insecurity. He made her feel like an object. Like a thing. Not a woman at all, but some two-dimensional image in a magazine—put there simply for men to lust over.#p#分页标题#e#
The person she was now wouldn’t dream of letting her nipples peek out from behind her splayed fingers, while she pouted at the camera. These days she would rather die than hook her thumbs in her panties and thrust her pelvis in the direction of the lens. But she’d needed to do it, for all kinds of reasons. Reasons the uptight Niccolò da Conti wouldn’t understand in a million years.
‘You were notorious, Alannah,’ he continued. ‘And that kind of notoriety doesn’t just go away. It sticks like mud.’
She looked at him in despair. He was telling her that? Didn’t he realise that she’d been living with the consequences of that job ever since? No, of course he didn’t. He saw what he wanted to see and no more—he didn’t have the imagination to put himself in someone else’s shoes and think what their life might be like. He was protected by his wealth and position and his arrogance.
She wanted to go up and shake him and tell him to think outside the box. To wipe that judgemental look from his face and to start seeing her as a person, instead of someone who’d once behaved rashly. She could see exactly why Michela had been so scared of him when they’d been at school together. Was it any wonder that the Italian girl had rebelled from the moment he’d dropped her off at the exclusive Swiss finishing school where Alannah’s mother had worked as school matron?