She blew out a breath, looking exasperated, as well as adorably embarrassed, her cheeks going even pinker. ‘Is It Cake?’ she finally muttered.
‘Is It Cake?’ he repeated. He’d never heard of it.
‘It’s a show where you have to decide if something is made of cake or real,’ she explained impatiently, folding her arms so the robe pulled across her breasts, inevitably drawing Nico’s gaze downward. ‘In this case, an iguana. Does it matter?’ She huffed. ‘And also,whyare you here?’
‘To make sure you wear one of the dresses I bought you.’
Her eyes flashed as she tilted her chin. ‘That’s incredibly high-handed of you, but in any case, the charity thing istomorrownight.’
‘Yes, but I have a busy day tomorrow, and I don’t like surprises.’
She shook her head. ‘Why do you care what I wear?’
‘Because you can’t come to these things dressed in a suit you bought at Walmart,’ he replied brutally. ‘You, of all people, should know these things, Ashley.’
She stared at him for a moment, confusion clouding eyes that still sparked with irritation. ‘Why shouldIknow?’
‘Because,’ he explained impatiently, throwing one arm out to encompass her cozy apartment, ‘No matter what your life is like now, you were once the daughter of one of the country’s wealthiest men, as well as one of the foremost socialites in all of New Yorkandin possession of a closet full of gowns just like those.’
He pointed to the rack she’d shoved into the corner of the room. ‘And maybe you like coming across all humble and serious now, but I am not about to walk into a premier event with you on my arm looking like you’ve been kicked to the kerb—by me.’
Understanding and ire flashed in her eyes, and her breath hitched as her chin tilted a notch higher. ‘Oh, I see. This is all aboutappearances,’ she drawled. ‘More damage control. I saw that video, by the way, of Denise. Must have got you pretty worried.’
‘I don’t care about the video,’ Nico snapped. ‘I can ride out any bad publicityeasily. But I’m not about to have you putting about a false narrative by looking like something the cat dragged in.’
‘Oh!’ The single syllable came out in a hurt gasp, and she whirled away from him, no doubt to hide the expression on her face.
Nico released a slow, pent-up breath. All right, he hadn’t meant to soundquiteso callous, and in truth that wasn’t entirely the reason he’d come here. But Ashley Woodward put him on edge, the memories he kept coming up against colliding with the present reality, and the clash did not make any sense.Who was she?
‘This doesn’t have to be a battle,’ he told her levelly. ‘I simply want you to wear something appropriate.’ He gestured to the rack in the corner. ‘Most women appreciate a chance to dress up, especially when it’s not paid for by them,’ he added for good measure, unable to keep an edge from entering his voice. Why couldn’t she at least acknowledge that he was doing her afavour, high-handed though it must seem?
‘Well, I’m not most women,’ she replied in a strangled voice, her taut back still facing him, practically vibrating with tension.
‘You can keep all the dresses free of charge,’ he offered, but if he thought that would sweeten the deal, he realised at once he was mistaken.
Ashley whirled round, one fist raised above her head as if she wanted to wallop him. ‘I do not,’ she informed him through gritted teeth, ‘Want to keepanyof these dresses. I don’t even want to look at them. I certainly don’t want to wear them, and I really don’t want you to make me wear them.’
‘Why,’ Nico demanded in exasperation, ‘Are you being so unreasonable aboutdresses?’
‘Why areyou?’ she fired back, her voice turning shrill, her face paper-pale, save for two bright spots of colour high on her cheekbones. Her breath came in gasps that had her bathrobe gaping open with each tautly drawn one, not that Nico was trying to notice. ‘What kind of control freak are you, anyway,’ she asked, her voice now shaking, ‘To come to my apartment anddemandto know what I’m wearing? I’llgoto the event. I’ll look presentable. Can’t that be enough for you?’
She shook her head, her features twisted in sneering despair. ‘Or is this some kind of punishment—more revenge for simply being my father’s daughter?’
Nico let out a huff of incredulous laughter. Her reasoning skills seriously left something to be desired. ‘So buying you a dozen designer dresses is punishment?’ he surmised with a twist of his lips. ‘Maybe in your pampered world it is, princess—’
‘Itoldyou,’ Ashley shrieked, both fists clenched at her sides, ‘Notto call me that!’
Nico stared at her in disbelief. Her face was flushed, her eyes glittering like emeralds. She looked beautiful, everything in her so vividly and vibrantly alive…and yet in the grip of a fury he did not understand in the least. He’d bought her dresses. Why was she acting as if he’d mortally insulted her? Nico decided he’d had enough of her absurd theatrics.
‘You’ll pick a damned dress,’ he snapped out. ‘And you’ll wear it.’
In the space of a single second, the colour leached from her face, her shoulders slumped and her fists unclenched. It was as if he was watching the life blood drain out of her. Wordlessly Ashley turned on her heel, walked to the rack and unzipped the covering on the first dress, withdrawing a gorgeous, glittering sheath of emerald satin.
‘This one will do,’ she said tonelessly, giving it no more than the most cursory of glances, and then she zipped the covering back up. ‘You can take the rest away. I don’t want them.’ She stood there, staring off into space, doing her best to ignore him completely, along with the damnable dress.
Nico stared at her in disbelief. ‘Are you not even going to look at the other dresses?’ he asked, but Ashley did not respond. He almost wondered if she’d even heard him.
Then, before he could say anything else, she slowly sank to the floor, her arms wrapped around her waist, her hair falling in front of her face in a golden tangle. Nico’s brows snapped together as he watched her in concern. Had she faintedagain? The woman was a walking disaster zone.
