The Highest Price to Pay Read Free

them, making them look wider, more cat-shaped. It was obvious that she had no problem drawing attention to herself. She was wearing a short black dress that displayed her long, shapely legs to perfection, and ornate ankle boots with buckles and a cutout at the toe that showed off shockingly pink toenails.
    A sharp shot of lust stabbed at his stomach. He dismissed it. This wasn’t about lust; this was about business.
    He’d learned long ago to separate the two. Learned never to let desire lead him around like a dog on a leash.
    “It’s ineffective,” he said sharply. “Yes, it gets your name in the paper to go to every night club opening in Paris, but it’s not elevating you to the level this boutique suggests you want to be at.”
    “At this point, I just need to get my name in the paper. I do what I can to drum up interest in the Ella Stanton label.”
    “You don’t do enough.”
    “Thank you,” she said, her tone flat.
    “It cheapens you.”
    Her blue eyes widened. “It isn’t as though I’m out engaging in questionable activities, you make it sound like I’m dancing on tables while shouting the name of my label. I always behave in a professional manner.”
    “You have to surround yourself with potential clients. Tell me, are any of those hard-partying patrons of the events you frequent going to come and spend money on your clothes?”
    “Some of them…”
    “Not enough of them. You need to build connections in the industry. You need to build real connections with the sort of clientele you want.”
    “I’m working up to that point but it isn’t as though invitations to exclusive events land in my mailbox every day.” She shifted her weight and put her hand on one shapely hip.
    He noticed them then. Patches of pink, shiny skin marring the creamy perfection of her fingers. This was what had made her instantly newsworthy when she’d come to Paris. The scarred, American heiress who wore her pain like a trophy and used her personal tragedy to her best advantage. Her sob story, the house fire that had left her burned, was half of her appeal to the media, and she made the most of it.
    A quality he admired. Although, his first thought upon seeing that Ella Stanton’s business loan was rolled in with the others he’d wanted to purchase had been to unload it as quickly as possible. He didn’t have time to waste on a spoiled little rich girl playing at a career that suited her idea of over-the-top glamour.
    After looking at her sales figures, he’d been forced to put that idea away, and talking to a couple of industry professionals and gaining insight on their opinion of Ella’s talent had further altered his first impression. She wasn’t playing; she was good at what she did.
    She was working hard to advance her line, harder than he’d imagined she might be. But he knew he could take it further. Take her further.
    The bottom line was profit; it was all that mattered. And he would wring every ounce of profit possible out of the Ella Stanton label.
    “They do land in mine. And I know what to do when such opportunities for networking present themselves. I already have connections you can only dream of. I know you’ve read about my ability to crush companies if the need arises, but I can build them, too. In fact, I excel at it. The only question is which of my famed skills would you like to see employed here?”
    There was a determined glint in her eyes, one that only served to add weight to the desire already settled in his gut.
    “What exactly do you require of me?” she asked, speaking through her tightly gritted teeth.
    “It’s simple. When it comes to matters of business, you do as I say. To the letter.”
    “So all you want is total control then? Not too much to ask.” Her tone was even, her expression placid, but he could sense the barely controlled emotion that was all but radiating from her.
    “What I want is to take your brand and make it a household name. To have every fashionista