Panic choked her and she gasped for breath, teetering on the precipitous edge between sanity and hysteria. ‘It’s not all right! It’s not all right, Silvio! You brought me to the top floor!’ Her voice rose and she snatched in several short breaths. ‘How could you do that? How could you? I have to get out of here!’ She tried to drag herself out of his arms but his fingers bit into her arms and he shook her slightly.
‘Jess, listen to me.’ His voice was commanding, his grip preventing her from running. She would have gone over the balcony if she’d had the chance and he knew it. ‘You’re not trapped. You’re safe.’
There was roaring in her ears and she lifted her hand to her mouth, her breathing so rapid that the world started to spin.
She heard Silvio swear softly and then he hauled her across the room and yanked open a door. In front of her was a curving metal slide, like something from a child’s playground. She stared at it blankly and she heard him sigh.
‘If you sit on it, you’ll be on the ground floor in less than four seconds. I designed it myself.’ Still with his hand around her wrist he dragged her back to the glass wall overlooking the river, hit a button and the whole thing slid open.
The cold air and driving rain made her gasp but he pulled her onto the balcony and gestured. ‘Staircase.’ His tone was forceful, his gaze compelling as he tried to penetrate the terror that was eating her up. ‘From this bedroom alone there are three exits. Do you understand me, Jess? Three exits. There are another nine from the rest of the apartment. It isn’t possible to be trapped in here.’
Another soaking of rain was turning the cheap gold dress into a sodden rag and she was shivering again, but Jessie managed a nod.
In terms of acknowledgement it wasn’t much, but it was obviously enough for him because he drew her back inside, hit the button again and once again the outside world vanished and the glass wall closed her inside the cocoon of climate controlled luxury.
Humiliation swamped her. ‘Sorry…’
‘Jessie—you were dragged out of a burning house when you were five years old,’ he said grimly. ‘Don’t apologise to me. I know why you sleep on the ground floor. I know why you don’t like tall buildings, but you’re safe here. I know it’s not the ground floor, but you can’t be trapped. Trust me.’
He was the last man in the world she wanted to trust, but what choice did she have? At this moment in time she was in too much of a mess to be fussy.
If she left his protection, she’d be dead.
Without releasing her hand, Silvio strode purposefully into the bathroom. He hit a button on the wall and hot, scented water swirled into the large tub.
Jessie wanted to say something but she had no idea what.
He stared at her frozen features with a mixture of concern and exasperation. ‘You’re cold. You’re wet. You’ve had a long day. Get out of that damn dress, soak in the bath, close your eyes. Then you can eat. Judging from the contents of your fridge, you need it.’ His eyes raked her face and then he cautiously released her wrist,
still watching her. ‘After that we’ll talk.’
Jessie’s teeth were chattering. ‘What’s the point in talking? You’ll do what you want to do.’
A sardonic smile touched his beautiful mouth. ‘Yes, you’re right. I will. Get in the bath, Jess.’
Did she look that bad?
She scraped her soaking hair away from her face, knowing that she must look like a drowned rat. Knowing that she owed him thanks. Despite her gratitude for his intervention, she just couldn’t say the words. Showing gratitude to a man she hated proved impossible. She was still trying to force the words past her uncooperative lips when he gestured to a heated cabinet by the bath.
‘Towels. Anything else you need, shout.’ He paused by the door—cool, sophisticated and very much at home in this world. ‘Perhaps you’d better not lock the door.’
He closed the door behind him and Jessie immediately locked it.
Why had he suddenly reappeared in her life? And why was he helping her? After the things she’d said to him, she hadn’t expected ever to see him again.
It couldn’t be guilt or regret.
She knew that Silvio Brianza didn’t have a conscience.
She leaned her forehead against the locked door, embarrassed by her loss of control and wishing it hadn’t been him who had witnessed it. Then she laughed. No one but him would have understood. But Silvio had been there after the fire. He’d been living in the care home where she and her orphaned teenage brother had been taken after the tragedy that had shattered their young lives.
They’d lost everything, and everyone, and they’d been thrust into a world that had been both harsh and cruelly unfamiliar.
Jessie turned and looked at the bath, tempted by the froth of luxurious bubbles and the prospect of steaming water. How long had it been since she’d dipped herself in hot water? Too long. And never in a bath like this one. To just lie in a bath and relax, knowing that someone else was watching for danger…
Despite the sleep she felt exhausted, but she knew she couldn’t stay here. Not with him. It was out of the question. He was her enemy.
She rubbed her fingers over her lips, trying to erase the memory of that kiss—telling herself that she had no reason to feel guilty. He’d kissed her. Not the other way round.