‘Of course not. But we don’t get the chance to live our lives over. We just have to find ways to live with our mistakes.’
‘Shunning the simple pleasures in life won’t help you do that.’
He had a point.
His brows drew down low over his eyes. ‘Don’t you worry about other young women he might have targeted?’
Her heart started to thump. Trust Dylan to worry about vulnerable women he didn’t even know. She glanced down at her hands. ‘Fourteen months into my sentence Johnnie attempted an armed hold-up on a security van. He wasn’t successful. He was sentenced to fifteen years. I think the foolish young women of the world are safe from him for the moment.’
‘Good.’
Neither one of them went back to eating pizza.
‘Is that why you let men walk all over you?’
She stiffened. ‘I don’t let you walk all over me.’
His lips twisted, though his eyes remained hard. ‘There’s hope for me yet, then.’
‘No, there’s not! I—’
‘You’ve let Gordon, Thierry and Felipe all treat you like you’re worthless. Your father and Johnnie both treated you badly. Do you really hold yourself so cheaply?’
Her heart surged against her ribs. ‘Neither my father nor Johnnie are in my life any more. Thierry doesn’t matter to me one jot! Felipe didn’t take advantage of me. And as for Gordon...’
Dylan folded his arms and raised his eyebrows.
‘He has the power to fire me. Keeping my head beneath the parapet where he’s concerned is the smartest course of action. It won’t be forever.’
‘There’ll always be Gordons in your life in one form or another. Are you going to turn yourself into a doormat for all of them?’
‘If I do it’ll be none of your business!’
‘Why tell me all of this, then?’
‘Because if we’re going to be friends—’ she ground the word out ‘—eventually the press will find out who I am and my story will come out. And it wouldn’t be fair to have the press spring something like that on you without preparing you first.’
He dragged a hand down his face.
‘And...’
He stilled. ‘And...?’
She didn’t want to continue, but she had to. It was the reason she’d started this conversation. ‘And I wanted you to understand why I have no intention of ever pursuing another romantic relationship.’
He stared at her, but she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.
‘Because you were burned once?’
‘Because I don’t like who I am when I’m in love. I refuse to become that person again.’
He shot to his feet. ‘Are you likening me to this Johnnie Peters?’
She shot to her feet too. ‘Of course not!’
He stabbed a finger at her. ‘That’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re saying that if you let yourself be vulnerable to me, I’ll take advantage of you.’
She could feel herself start to shake. ‘This is about me, not you!’
‘Garbage. I—’
He broke off when a bright flash momentarily blinded both of them. Mia realised two things then—night had fallen...and someone had just snapped their photo.
Without another word, Dylan charged off into the darkness.
Biting back a groan, Mia set off after him.
* * *
Dylan hurled himself at the shape that had emerged in the darkness, bringing the anonymous photographer down.
He tried to clamp down on the rage that had him wanting to tear things apart with his bare hands. He wanted to tear apart the men who’d let Mia down—her father, the despicable Johnnie Peters. He wanted to tear apart her mistaken view of herself as some kind of spineless push-over. He wanted to tear apart her view of him! Most of all he wanted to tear himself apart, and he didn’t know why.
Don’t tear the photographer apart. He’s just doing his job.
‘Fair go, Fairweather!’
Dylan pushed himself upright as Mia came running up. She shone the torch on her phone on the photographer, confirming Dylan’s suspicions. A hard ball lodged in his belly.
‘Percy Struthers. What the hell do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me again now?’
Percy had created a PR firestorm last year, when Dylan had been in charge of a Turkish sultan’s sixtieth birthday celebrations. Percy had released a photo of Dylan and the Sultan’s very beautiful youngest daughter, linking them romantically. It had been a lie, of course, but try telling that to an enraged Turkish sultan...
Percy Struthers was the grubbiest of the gutter press, and trouble with a capital T.
Mia had broken the law—she’d done wrong and she’d paid the price—but the world was full of immoral, unethical people who lied and cheated. Were they sent to jail? Hardly! Some of them were applauded and clapped on the back for it—like tabloid journalists and politicians.
‘It’s news whenever a new woman turns up in your life—you know that.’
‘Give me the camera.’
With a sigh, Percy handed it over.
Dylan stood and indicated for Mia to shine her torch on the camera. With a flick of his fingers he removed the memory stick.
Percy clambered to his feet, caught the camera when Dylan tossed it back to him. ‘It won’t stop the story, you know.’
‘Without a photograph the story won’t gain traction.’
They both knew that.
The photographer gave an ugly laugh. ‘But one of us will eventually get a photo—you can’t remain on your guard twenty-four-seven.’
Beside him, Mia stiffened. Dylan wanted to throw his head back and howl. This was her worst nightmare, and it was he who’d dragged her into it.
‘I know who she is,’ Percy continued. ‘And I know what she’s done.’
Her absolute worst nightmare.
‘Aren’t you afraid she’s on the make? That you’re simply her latest target?’
He felt rather than saw Mia flinch. A ball of fury lodged in his gut.
Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t give the pond scum anything. Don’t feed the frenzy.
It hit him suddenly how much his name, his position, were black marks against him in Mia’s book.
Percy gave another of those ugly laughs. ‘An ex-con? Really, Dylan? What are you trying to prove? Or have you developed a taste for a bit of rough?’
Dylan reached out and took Mia’s hand. ‘I think we’re done here.’
‘Run along, darlin’.’ The photographer smirked. ‘We all know what you’re after.’
And then he called her a name that no man should ever call a woman.
Dylan whirled around, his right hand fisted, and smashed him square on the nose. Blood burst from it as the man reeled backwards to sprawl on the ground. Pain shot up Dylan’s arm.
Mia sucked in a breath, and even in