Phoebe stared at it as if it were a bomb he’d just dropped. Her heart sank. Oh, no. Please let it not be another story about Jo.
‘It starts on page six.’
With trembling fingers Phoebe picked it up and swallowed back a surge of nausea. She didn’t think Jo’s career would survive another salacious story.
The pages were stuck together. Or maybe she was shaking so much it just seemed that way. But eventually she got to page six.
Her heart thumping with apprehension, Phoebe scanned the headline and her initial reaction was one of relief. Thank goodness. The story had nothing to do with Jo.
But as she read further the apprehension flooded back. The article was a dodgy blend of fact and supposition. About her and Alex. It detailed the times and location of their dates and hinted at the possible professional benefits such a relationship might give her. Indignation spiked through her alarm. As if she’d ever take advantage of their affair like that, even assuming that the supposed ‘benefits’ did exist.
Nevertheless it was awful. No wonder Alex was in such a foul mood. He hated any invasion of his privacy. And those photos… Phoebe shuddered at the thought that someone had been watching them. As they kissed beneath the pergola at the roof gardens. While they were walking in the park during lunch a couple of days ago. In the middle of dinner at that cosy little Italian round the corner from his flat.
But even so, she thought, Alex must be used to seeing himself in the press, so why was he reacting so strongly about something that was so clearly fabricated and badly patched together?
‘Nothing to say?’
Phoebe blinked and jumped in shock at the icy steel in his voice. ‘Why would I have anything to say?’
‘What? No hint of shame? No apology?’
She went very still. Confusion swilled around her head. ‘What do I have to be ashamed of and what do I have to apologise for?’ she said carefully.
Alex shoved his hands through his hair and let out a bitter laugh. ‘You really are unbelievable.’
Phoebe gaped. What the hell was going on? ‘Alex, I know how you feel about your privacy and I can imagine you’re not particularly pleased about this—’
‘Not particularly pleased?’ he echoed, in a dangerously soft voice.
An inexplicable sense of dread seeped into her. ‘Now you’re scaring me.’
His eyes glittered and turned as dark and hard as granite. ‘You tip the press off about our…’ he paused as if searching for the right word ‘…our liaison,’ he said eventually, ‘and you accuse me of scaring you.’
‘Is that what you think?’ she said in horrified disbelief.
‘It does seem a logical conclusion.’
‘Why would I tip off the press about us?’
Alex’s jaw tightened. ‘I have no idea. Publicity? It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s used my name to bring in business.’
Phoebe felt the blood drain from her face. Her legs shook and she stumbled back, not stopping until she hit the bookcase. She gripped the edges and could feel her knuckles turning white with the effort of keeping herself upright. ‘You arrogant bastard,’ she breathed, scarcely unable to believe what was going on. ‘Firstly, I don’t need to use your name to bring in business. I’m doing exceptionally well by myself. And secondly, are you honestly suggesting I’d be capable of stooping that low?’
Alex glowered. ‘You said yourself you’d do anything for your career.’
‘Not this. Never something like this.’
‘Read it again, Phoebe,’ he said, picking up the magazine and thrusting it at her. ‘You’re quoted.’
How could she possibly be quoted? She hadn’t spoken to anyone about her relationship with Alex, let alone a tabloid journalist.
She read it again, the words swimming before her eyes. And suddenly her shock gave way to anger. ‘No, I’m not, you jerk. “A source close to Ms Jackson” does not mean me. It means they’ve made it up.’
‘Right,’ he said, his sarcasm striking her straight in the chest. ‘And they’d do that because they’re not worried about libel.’
Her anger turned into incandescence. ‘This is a scandal sheet. They couldn’t care less about libel. Their fabrications sell so many extra copies that they simply pay the injured parties off.’
‘Do you seriously expect me to believe that?’