Her eyes flew wide in alarm. ‘What rumours?’
His eyes lifted. ‘A story will appear tomorrow confirming that your grandfather had a heart attack. This is a story that would normally dominate headlines for weeks, excite a predictably hysterical reaction and hit market confidence.’
‘You couldn’t stop this story?’ Kat felt a bit guilty that she was relieved this was about market confidence and not about her.
There was a ruthless quality to the thin-lipped smile he gave in response that made her shiver. ‘I planted the story.’
The addition of obviously was silent, but quite definitely there. Confused by that as much as his admission, she shook her head. ‘But you just said—’ she began, feeling her way.
‘I said normally. On this occasion Alekis’s illness will be buried by the much more exciting information that he has been united with his long-lost granddaughter.’
‘So, you’re using me.’
She sounded shocked by the discovery. His dark brows flattened into a line of exasperation above his obsidian stare.
‘This was not my idea.’ He wasn’t trying to deflect her anger, but he decided it might be a good thing that she recognised that even at death’s door her grandfather was not a warm and cuddly person.
It was bizarre he had to spell it out, but despite her upbringing, inexplicably it seemed to come as a shock to her that anyone had motives that were not pure and elevated.
He wasn’t going to be the only one to notice her lack of guile and sophistication, but he might be the only one who wasn’t trying to use it to his own advantage. You did not have to be psychic to predict that if she didn’t toughen up, and quick, she was going to be a soft touch for every hard-luck sob story going. He hoped for her sake she was a quick learner, or else she was in for some painful lessons in human nature.
She glanced towards the building behind them. ‘He?’
‘Alekis delegated, but yes, the plan is his. It’s nothing sinister. We’re controlling the flow of information. Or would you prefer some tabloid breaks the story, sensationalising it? Perhaps digging up an old lover to publish a kiss-and-tell?’ He saw no benefit from telling her that this might happen anyway. There were going to be disgruntled ex-lovers coming out of the woodwork once the news of the heiress hit. ‘This way your exposure is controlled. Hiding you away would have photographers in helicopters flying over Tackyntha with telephoto lenses.’
Her startled eyes looked up at him as she slid into the car. ‘People will want to take my photograph?’ she said as he joined her.
‘Are you trying to be facile?’
She shook her head.
He sighed and pushed his head into the leather headrest. ‘Belt up, Katina.’
She did and sat there looking shell-shocked.
Zach waited until the car moved away and into the traffic before he spoke. ‘You are going to be one of the wealthiest women in Europe, Katina. People will all want to know what you had for breakfast, what your favourite colour nail varnish is. They will discuss what you’re wearing and speculate on your sexuality, whether you have an eating disorder or a drug problem.’
He watched as the horror of the reality hit home, feeling like a bastard, but better a bastard on her side than one who could exploit the vulnerability on display in her wide eyes and trembling lips.
She half rose in her seat before subsiding, no parachute, no escape—no escape. ‘Oh, God!’ she groaned, closing her eyes. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Yes, you can.’
His firm, unsympathetic rebuttal made her eyes fly wide as she directed a glare of simmering dislike at him. She had seen lumps of granite with more empathy than he possessed.
‘The way you handle yourself these first few weeks is important, will set a pattern. Alekis’s wealth means people don’t have automatic access to you. I can put up some barriers to protect you.’
She pushed away the images of walls around a gold-lined cage that flashed through her head, telling herself not to be such a drama queen. There was plenty to be nervous about without inventing things.
‘You hide away and people will assume you have something to hide. We need to create the illusion you are open,’ he explained, digging deep into his reserves of patience as he explained what was obvious. ‘While telling them essentially nothing.’
Her dark feathered brows lifted. ‘We?’
‘All right, you. One of the first things you need to remember is trust no one, no one,’ he emphasised grimly. ‘Not everyone you meet will be out for a piece of you,’ he conceded.
‘Just ninety per cent of them. What a relief!’ She quivered. He was really selling this lifestyle. ‘I’m not stupid, you know. I might even be able to work out which knife and fork to use. I am a fast learner.’
‘That remains to be seen. I won’t pretend it isn’t going to be a steep learning curve.’