Page 22 of Nothing to No One

“You’re not the same.” Why would her opinion matter? “The man I met at last night’s event would never put his hands on me against my will. And downstairs…”

“I’ll talk to him,” Struan said with an ounce of concern.

To be honest, though he was wary, he wasn’t surprised or outraged. She’d bet it wasn’t the first time a woman questioned his brother’s amorous advances.

His concentration flitted to the closet, to the overabundance of luxury foisted on her. Was that enough? Was it payment for putting up with whatever went on in those walls? Was that the deal?

“I have my own things,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. What must he think of her? She’d rocked up into this glamorous life and agreed to take up with his brother for a few lousy outfits and a new hairdo. Shallow? Cheap? She’d never considered herself either. Not until right then. “I appreciate everything that’s been done.” She touched her hair again. “I know people expect a man like Roman to be with a certain type of woman. The type of woman who wouldn’t embarrass him with the way she looks or the things she says.”

“You don’t owe us anything. There’s nothing wrong with the woman you are. Roman’s more likely to embarrass you than the other way around. Believe me. I apologize for that now, and probably will every day until this is over for you.” Her confidence slipped again. “You’re welcome to all of this. It’s the least we can do for what you’re sacrificing.”

“And what is that? What does being with your brother entail? Will it involve going out in public? Speaking to people? God, it better not involve cameras, of any kind.”

“We’ll talk about that downstairs, at dinner. I just wanted to…” What? Why did he go quiet? “You look incredible.”

After that long pause, she doubted that was what he’d come to say. There was something else on his mind.

“Thank you.”

Because what the hell else could she say? Questions might seem accusatory and she didn’t want to do that to him.

He took another step. “Downstairs, earlier, you said—”

“Dinner!” someone called from beyond the room.

Struan faltered, exhaling as his chin hitched toward the shout. “I guess we should get downstairs.”

“Should I change?” She fingered the fabric on her body. “This feels like a lot.”

He smiled. “It’s nothing to what you’ll endure through this. Come on.”

Dinner would be ready and waiting. The performance wasn’t over yet, but she prayed this was her encore. Her nerves wouldn’t take many more surprises. What had she gotten herself into?

NINE

DINNER SHOULDN’T BE daunting. Having Struan there to guide her into the huge dining space at the back of the house did take the edge off some of her trepidation.

The rear garden was lit up, the pool sparkled, the edge of the slate patio glowed. Another world? More like another planet.

“How was your day?” Magnus asked.

Struan guided her into a chair at the circular table and pushed it in under her.

“My day?” she asked of the man awaiting an answer. “Yes, uh, it was… interesting.”

“I’ve got to have more say on the clothes if she’s supposed to be my girlfriend.”

Quite a talent Roman had for paying zero attention to anyone else while demanding his say with the crowd.

“What’s wrong with her clothes? Chic has excellent taste.”

“Yeah, but there’s got to be a reason, right?”

“A reason?” Magnus asked.

“Why she got my attention. Not like she’s got a name or a rep to back her up.”

“Her lips,” Struan said.

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