by Sarah Morgan
‘It’s really weird,’ she confessed in a soft voice, her fingers sliding into the lapels of his dinner jacket. ‘Whenever I sang there I pretended I was somewhere else—somewhere like this. And now that I’m here, I’m so nervous I’ll have to pretend I’m back there.’
‘Once you start singing, you’ll be fine.’
Jessie looked down at herself. ‘The dress is truly stunning. It wasn’t one of the ones I tried on, was it?’
‘I had it made for you. Everything you touch will be gold once people have heard you sing.’
Jessie tried to dismiss the thought that he hadn’t trusted her to choose her own dress for the evening—that he’d been afraid she might make a fashion faux pas.
Cross with herself for even thinking that, she reached for the other gift. ‘What’s this?’
‘No more battered cardboard boxes,’ Silvio said softly, sliding his hands over her shoulders and watching while she opened it.
Jessie removed the packaging and revealed a box the same size and dimensions as hers—only this one was gold, inlaid with an intricate pattern, and she knew instantly that was extremely valuable.
‘Open it,’ Silvio urged, and she did so cautiously, wondering why she felt so numb.
Was he afraid that one of his staff might come across her battered cardboard box?
But if the box had surprised her it was nothing compared to the contents. Inside was a glittering diamond pendant on a bed of scarlet silk. Nestled in a setting of gold, it was a more expensive replica of the one he’d bought her years before and Jessie stood in stunned silence as he fastened it round her neck.
‘Time to throw the cheap version away,’ he purred, standing back and looking at her with a satisfied expression. ‘It looks good on you.’
‘Silvio, I can’t wear this!’ Her voice barely a whisper, Jessie touched it with the tips of her fingers.
‘I might lose it. Or someone might mug me—’
‘The hotel is swarming with security staff. And anyway…’ he gave a faint smile ‘…if someone tries to mug you, you can stab them with your shoe. Or you could just punch them. We both know you’re more capable of defending yourself than any of the other women out there.’
Her hand still on the diamond, Jessie gave a choked laugh. ‘I don’t think that sort of behaviour goes with the dress.’
‘Fine. Leave it to the security staff, then. Or me. I’ll be watching. Are you ready?’
Jessie looked in the mirror. On the outside she looked every bit as glamorous as any of the women who had attended the champagne reception on his yacht.
On the inside, she felt no different.
She was like a sturdy family car that had been re-sprayed and fitted with a Ferrari engine.
She was a fake.
She wanted to say something about how she felt but she knew that anything she said would sound ungrateful. And she wasn’t ungrateful. Far from it. She just wished she didn’t feel as though he was…she swallowed…upgrading her?
Silvio held out his arm. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Now?’ Her eyes widened and panic gripped her. ‘I need more practice.’
‘You don’t need more practice.’
‘Aren’t they eating dinner or something?’
‘They’re just finishing their second course. They’re ready for music. The other musicians said you were fabulous.’
‘I wasn’t fabulous, actually,’ Jessie said honestly, suddenly overwhelmed by nerves. ‘I didn’t sing well. And they were just normal people.’ Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t imagine being able to sing a note. ‘Why am I doing this? I’ll let you down. You haven’t heard me sing since I was a child.’
‘I’ve heard you sing, Jessie.’ Clearly unable to understand her panic, he smiled. ‘I was in Joe’s bar a few nights ago. It took a great deal of will power not to drag you from that stage, I can assure you.’
She stood still while the words sank in. ‘You were there? I didn’t know.’
‘Well, tonight you will know.’ Dismissing her fears, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘And when you sing, you will be singing for me.’
Her insecurities melted away.
He cared for her.
He’d bought her the gifts because he was generous and he wanted her to feel confident, and she was being stupid and paranoid. He wasn’t upgrading her—he was spoiling her.
‘Thank you,’ Jessie said softly, smiling up at him. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Shall we go?’
Silvio sat at the back of the room, watching Jessie walk onto the stage.
The laughter and chat didn’t cease and most of the guests didn’t even notice that she’d joined the other musicians.
The bride and groom were drawing all the attention, as was to be expected, because this had been the most anticipated wedding for a decade and everyone who was anyone had been silently hoping for an invitation.
As the pianist started to play and the rest of the musicians joined in, no one broke off their conversation or even looked in their direction.
And perhaps that was just as well, Silvio thought wryly, watching Jessie’s hand shaking as she reached for the microphone. If she thought they weren’t looking, she might find the courage to open her mouth.
The diamond pendant he’d given her glittered at her throat and the dress dipped seductively, while still managing to be discreet. Even though it was subtle and understated it was every bit as sexy as her tight gold dress.
Given that no one was taking any notice of her, Silvio was severely tempted to haul her off the stage and take her back to bed. He had to remind himself that this was her big opportunity.
This was her dream.
He lifted his glass and drank, trying to ignore the nagging voice that told him he’d taken advantage of her desperate situation.
Their relationship had nothing to do with the fact that he’d rescued her. Nothing to do with the gifts he’d showered on her.
He’d acted on the chemistry that had always been there.
She’d chosen to start with a love song, slightly jazzy, nothing too intrusive. Silvio saw her glance nervously at the pianist, and then as the opening notes of the piano faded Jessie started to sing and he gave a slow, satisfied smile, sat back in his chair and waited.
Her voice slid over the room like a spell, silencing conversation and stilling all movement. Waiters stopped serving, even her fellow band members stumbled over a few notes, too busy gaping at her to concentrate on what they were doing. But Jessie didn’t stumble. She sang as she always sang, her beautiful voice so unbelievably perfect that no one listening could have doubted that she was a star.
As she hit the top notes, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Silvio wondered how she’d managed to spend so long in obscurity with a voice like hers.
But he knew the answer to that.
Sometimes you needed life to give you a break.
And he’d given her that break.
Silvio glanced sideways, noticing that the women on the table nearest to him had tears on their cheeks.
No one was eating. No one was talking.
When Jessie finished the song, no one moved and he saw her look at him with panic in her eyes and launch straight into the next song.
He held her eyes, listening to the words of love that flowed from her lips and her heart, understanding that she didn’t have the courage to look at anyone else.
The words were soulful and intimate—far more intimate, he realised, than anything they’d said to each other in the privacy of the bedroom.
The fact that she was so unsure of herself sent a flicker of exasperation through him.
How could you have a voice that held everyone in thrall, and not be sure of yourself?
Silvio ignored the food on his plate and the champagne in his glass. He was as captivated by her voice as the rest of the people in the room. And then the song ended. There was an explosion of applause and everyone was on their feet.
He saw the shock on her face. Saw her look from him to the audience, disbelief and excitement lighting her eyes.
And he knew that Jessie had got her break.
Just as he’d predicted, her life had changed in an instant.
Jessie felt as though she was floating on air.
Not just because of the amazing response of the audience but because she’d seen the pride glowing in Silvio’s eyes and as she’d sung to him she’d realised that she’d meant every word.
She was in love with him.
She’d been in love with him all her life.
And he had feelings for her too, she knew he did.
Why else would he have done so much for her?
Why else would he have given her the gold dress and the pendant?
As Jessie sipped the champagne someone had handed her, the compliments bathed her in a warm glow. It was like living your life in winter and then suddenly discovering summer.
She was desperate to share her feelings with Silvio, but she couldn’t fight her way through the throng of people keen to talk to her.
Cameras were flashing in her face and she gave an interview before she even knew she was talking to a journalist. Hoping they weren’t going to print anything embarrassing, Jessie turned to find a tall man with grey hair waiting to talk to her.
‘So has Silvio arranged a recording deal for you?’ The man drew her to one side and Jessie took advantage of the space to take a breath.
‘No.’ Baffled by the question, she looked at him. ‘Why would he?’
‘Because Silvio Brianza has an unerring eye for a good investment and you must be one of the best investments he’s ever unearthed. The guy is a genius, I have to hand it to him. I don’t suppose I can persuade you to desert him and fly with me to Las Vegas, can I?’ Delving into his pocket he withdrew a card. ‘My daughter is getting married next week. I’d love you to sing. Who is your agent?’
‘I—’
‘Contact him. Tell him I’ll pay a million dollars for the evening.’
Jessie almost fainted. ‘A million dollars? You have to be joking.’
He frowned. ‘I’ve insulted you. I apologise. Would you consider doing it for two million? I’m impressed that you know your worth.’ He moved to one side as someone elbowed him. ‘I realise you’re in demand, but I hope I hear from you.’ With a nod and a smile he walked away and Jessie flopped onto the nearest chair, feeling as though she was going to pass out.
Had someone really just offered her two million dollars to sing for an evening?
Feeling light-headed, she automatically looked across the room, searching for Silvio so that she could tell him the news and they could laugh at it together, but she could no longer see him, so instead she sat for a moment, trying to catch her breath.
‘Silvio really does know how to spring surprises.’ A beautiful woman sat down next to her and lifted a glass of champagne in a silent toast. ‘Have you known him long? Or are you another one of his sob stories from the gutter?’
Jessie felt her mouth dry. ‘Sob stories?’
‘Yes, you know…’ The woman suppressed a yawn. ‘All those people he rescues. He’d rescue the whole world if he could. It’s quite sweet really, Silvio’s soft streak. He dragged himself from the streets and he likes to help others if he can. I don’t blame him. These days it’s good business to have a social conscience.’
Jessie felt her happiness shatter. ‘Silvio doesn’t care about his image. He helps people because he wants to make a difference.’
‘Well, he’s certainly succeeded with you. Although does it really work, I wonder? This type of social engineering.’ The woman put her glass carefully on the table and rested her perfectly manicured hand on the linen tablecloth. ‘It seems a bit cruel to me. Do you honestly feel part of this crowd?’
Jessie felt as though her face was frozen. It was impossible to move any of her muscles. ‘I’m fine.’ Fine. She was the one using that word now.
‘Oh, you look the part. He’s done a good job on your appearance, but are you happy? Or are you just looking round comparing yourself to everyone else?’
Jessie felt numb. She’d thought she was happy.
She’d thought this was the happiest day of her life.
‘I’m not one of his good deeds. That isn’t what this is about.’ But it was impossible not to think about the gold dress and a diamond pendant. And the box. He’d replaced her battered old box with something special that would last for ever.
Why?
Jessie rubbed her fingers over her forehead, trying to ignore the voice in her head that was telling her that he was wiping out everything of her old life.
Her companion gave a sympathetic smile. ‘If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry. I was just worried about you sitting here by yourself, not knowing anyone.’ She sounded genuinely contrite. ‘Why is Silvio helping you, then?’
Jessie couldn’t formulate a response.
She tried to silence the nagging voice in her head that told her that if he’d cared about her as a person, it shouldn’t have mattered whether she was wearing her cheap gold dress or his couture version. It should be about her, not about the clothes she was wearing or her ability to blend into his new life.
But he’d never talked about a future, had he? Never talked about love.
Silvio Brianza didn’t fall in love.
Yes, he’d wanted her. But only after he’d dressed her up and transformed her into someone different.
Suddenly needing some sort of evidence that she was wrong, Jessie looked around for him again and this time spotted him through the crowd, deep in conversation with a stunning brunette. He appeared to be enjoying her company, a smile playing around his firm mouth as the girl flirted with him.
Watching the girl flick her hair and gaze at Silvio from under her eyelashes, Jessie felt the last dreg of hope ooze out of her.
She was deluding herself if she ever thought she could compete with that.
‘That’s Angelica De Santos, the Spanish actress. Silvio’s had an on-off relationship with her for years. They were together in Cannes earlier in the year. She’s determined to be the one to pin him down, and perhaps she’ll succeed. He certainly likes her. They’re always being photographed together.’ The woman next to her stood up, taking her glass with her. ‘Good luck with the singing.’
Jessie didn’t even hear her.
She was staring at the elegant, confident, poised woman who was still laughing with Silvio. Watching them, it wasn’t hard to believe they’d had a close relationship. And why not? Both of them were single. Both of them were rich and glamorous. They were perfect together.
Silvio had never had to buy that woman a dress or show her what to wear. He’d never had to find subtle ways of disposing of an embarrassing box.
He’d never had to rescue her from an alleyway.
Jessie gulped down several mouthfuls of champagne, forcing herself to face the truth.
She was one of his projects.
Silvio had helped her because he felt guilty about Johnny, not because there was anything special between them. And how could there be? He was a billionaire.
And who was she? Not a supermodel or an actress. Just a girl from the back streets of London who happened to have a decent voice.
In the past few days she’d seen enough of the way that Silvio lived his life to know that he enjoyed the lifestyle that went with immense wealth and privilege. He’d moved on. And he had no intention of ever going back.
Even now he was too absorbed by his beautiful companion to bother coming over to congratulate her.
She’d accepted his help because she was desperate, but she wasn’t desperate any more, was she?
She had no excuse to stay.
Far too proud to be a burden on anyone, Jessie stood up quickly and searched the crowd for the man with the grey hair.
She had no idea where Las Vegas was, but she knew it was a long way from London. And a long way from Sicily. I
t sounded like a good place to start her new life.
And two million dollars would mean she could repay Silvio everything she owed.
No more debts to be paid. No more blame.
Nothing.
It was over.
From across the room Silvio watched with growing tension as Jessie talked to the most influential figure in the music business. It took all his self-control not to shoulder his way through the crowd and drag her away from the man who was, without doubt, trying to sign her to his record label.
‘Silvio! You’ve cut yourself!’ Angelica broke off flirting with him and took a step backwards. ‘The stem of your glass has broken—how did that happen?’
He’d made it happen, he realised blankly, staring down at the razor-sharp glass and the blood on his fingers. ‘Weak glass.’
‘Or strong fingers,’ Angelica said dryly. ‘Don’t you dare get that on my dress.’ She removed the glass carefully from his hand, placed it on the tray of a passing waitress and helped herself to a napkin. ‘Use the napkin, Silvio—you might be perfectly comfortable with blood, but the rest of us have weaker stomachs. Then tell me what’s made you so angry.’
‘I’m not angry.’ Silvio took the napkin from her and pressed it to his finger, his eyes still focused on Jessie.
She was surrounded by people congratulating her.
And she wasn’t even looking in his direction.
Angelica peered through the crowd. ‘Oh—I see. Brad is interested in your little protégée—you must be pleased.’ She looked up at him and her beautiful eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not pleased.’
‘Of course I am,’ Silvio said, his tone neutral. ‘A music career has always been her dream.’ And he had plans to arrange it for her—plans of his own.
He watched as Jessie listened attentively to what Brad had to say.
He thought of what they’d shared over the past week—
The fact that she’d given herself to him and no other man.
The breath hissed through his teeth as he watched Brad hand her a business card.
She wouldn’t go with him, would she? This man she didn’t know—this stranger who was probably offering her the world…
