King's Price. Jackie Ashenden

laughed, a soft sound that made me shiver. ‘Then maybe your poor father doesn’t get his money.’

      ‘Why not? You’d really pull out just because I won’t marry you?’

      He gave another shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal. ‘I’m not risking my money to your father’s promises, not without some guarantee.’

      Dammit.

      I shifted on the chair then rubbed my temples with one hand. The relentless beat of the music was giving me a headache and this was...not going like I’d planned. I’d thought he’d be a typical man, only concerned with having the beautiful trophy woman on his arm. But apparently he was different for some reason. Which was irritating.

      Tell him it’s all off. Leave Dad to get out of this one himself.

      I could. Except then the debt I owed Dad would still be there, hanging over my head. He’d got me away during the media storm, tried to cover my tracks and get rid of that recording. All the while facing the bankruptcy that I’d caused. I did owe him something.

      Leon watched me, his gaze a searchlight uncovering all kinds of things I’d prefer to keep hidden.

      ‘What, exactly, is your problem?’ he asked. ‘I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, and at the end of six months you can have my house and a divorce. I’ll be leaving the country after that anyway. You’ll barely see me.’

      He made it sound so reasonable. Why was I balking? I didn’t have any particular beliefs around marriage and love wasn’t real anyway. So what did it matter?

      ‘I don’t like...the attention,’ I said lamely, settling on the most logical reason for my reluctance. ‘I’m not comfortable being in the spotlight. And marrying you will draw attention.’

      ‘Of course it will. I want it to.’ His gaze wandered over me again and I felt my skin prickle in response. ‘I want people to think we’re in love, not that I married you purely to get an in with your father.’

      Well, Dad had not mentioned anything about a love affair.

      ‘But that’s why you are marrying me,’ I pointed out.

      ‘Well, yes. I just don’t want other people to know that.’

      ‘Why not? Why should you care?’

      He gave another of those soft laughs, his eyes gleaming. ‘The King family has changed, Miss Hamilton. We’re not the criminals everyone seems to think we are, not any more. And what better way to illustrate that than for one of us to fall desperately in love and marry a good woman from a very good family?’

      ‘Not to mention getting investors for your company’s expansion,’ I said dryly.

      ‘That too.’ He swirled the liquid in his glass. ‘It’s a multi-layered, complicated problem. I wouldn’t think too hard about it if I were you.’

      Was that a not-so-subtle dig at my intelligence? ‘Not to worry my pretty little head, you mean?’

      He shrugged, his gaze guileless, and didn’t answer. ‘Did you know I was supposed to be meeting Clara for our first public date tonight?’ he asked instead. ‘She didn’t turn up, but you did.’

      Public dates? Dad hadn’t mentioned anything about public dates.

      Because he knew you’d refuse.

      ‘I didn’t know Clara was supposed to be here,’ I snapped, freshly annoyed at my father all over again. ‘Dad didn’t mention it to me. And I’m certainly not here to be her stand-in either.’

      ‘Clearly not.’ He tilted his head. ‘What have you got against a bit of attention, though?’

      Great. That was all I needed. To drag up what had happened to me ten years ago. I didn’t want to talk about it and I especially didn’t want to talk about it to him.

      ‘I just don’t like it,’ I said.

      ‘Bullshit. Must be something pretty bad for it to involve coming to talk to me personally.’

      Dammit. My options were either lying or simply not answering the question, but I was hopeless at lying and I had a feeling he wasn’t the type to simply drop a subject.

      Hiding it wasn’t an option either, not when a quick search on my name would bring up the video. No matter how hard Dad had tried to scour it from the Internet, he hadn’t been able to. The Internet was for ever and so was my video.

      He’ll see it if you tell him.

      My jaw tightened. Well, everyone in creation had seen it, so why should I care if he did? Possibly he already had.

      ‘Google my name and you’ll find out.’ I lifted my chin and folded my hands in my lap so I wouldn’t be tempted to bite on my nails.

      He gave me a long, silent, assessing look. Then he put down his glass and reached into his pocket, bringing out his phone.

      I opened my mouth to tell him that he should wait until I wasn’t around at least. But his long fingers were already moving over the screen and a moment or two later he lifted his gaze from the phone and looked at me.

      I blushed again, the old feelings of humiliation and shame washing over me, but I shoved them away. I wasn’t that girl in the video, not any more.

      Instead, I stared, daring him to say a single word.

      He merely lifted one dark brow. ‘So you had a sex tape drama. Who hasn’t?’

      Was he being flippant? I couldn’t tell.

      ‘But you can see why I don’t want any kind of public attention. I don’t want anyone dragging that up again.’

      ‘You’re thinking about this all wrong, sweetheart.’ Casually, he dumped his phone on the table then sat back against the couch, lifting his arms along the back. ‘You could hide away for ever, afraid of all that coming back up again. Or you could go for a little revenge.’

      It was not what I’d expected him to say.

      ‘Revenge? What do you mean revenge?’

      ‘A hot guy slept with you and humiliated you. And millions saw it. What better revenge than to show those millions of people another guy falling for you? Incredibly handsome, sickeningly rich.’ He gave another smile, utterly and completely charming, and not at all modest. ‘Notorious. Not a man anyone would mess with. Yet you’d have him wrapped around your little finger.’

      The words slid under my skin in a way I wasn’t comfortable with. Revenge wasn’t what I wanted. Oblivion was, and I didn’t want anything to disrupt that. And yet...

      ‘I’d already planned some dates with Clara,’ he went on, that rich, deep voice of his winding around me. ‘Nothing major, just a few public outings to show people we’re in love. And then a big wedding to top it all off.’ His voice deepened, became softer. ‘Yes, it’s attention. But this time you get to call the shots. And it ends with you getting everything. The wedding, the mansion, the money.’ He paused, gold glimmering in his eyes, his smile making me feel hot, even though I wasn’t. ‘And, of course, you get the man.’

      My instant response was to tell him no, that I didn’t care. I’d got past what had happened to me and what I wanted was to go back to my obscure life and carry on as if none of this had ever happened.

      You could do that. Or you could rewrite your own story. And this time with the ending you want.

      The thought hit me hard.

      Back when I was seventeen, being Clara’s tall, gangly stick of a sister had been tough, and I’d longed to be like her. Pretty and curvy, popular with all the boys. I’d been an easy mark for Simon. Desperate for attention, insecure, a prime target for his manipulation. And he had manipulated me. He’d made me think he wanted me, that he loved me.

      Then he’d used me, humiliated