Maybe she couldn’t afford a five hundred dollar an hour Manhattan lawyer but she knew people who knew people. It was one of the few benefits of a high-profile career. Surely some acquaintance could fast-talk a hotshot attorney into taking her case on the cheap, maybe even pro bono, if only for the publicity.
Which was really pretty funny, Ivy thought as she tried and discarded another pair of trousers.
She’d always avoided publicity. Sometimes she thought she was the only model who tried to keep her private life under wraps. But if winning the right to raise her child alone meant having her face plastered in the papers, she’d do it.
She’d do whatever it took to get Damian out of her and her baby’s lives.
Damian Aristedes was a brute. A monster. A man who went into a rage when he was denied sex, who’d come close to forcing her to yield to him and, instead, had flown to Athens to find a woman who wouldn’t stop him from taking what he wanted.
Why else would he have left her and Minos? That was what men did. Even Damian, who looked so civilized.
He hadn’t been civilized when he’d taken her in his arms the other night. Neither had she. Just for a moment, she’d felt things threaten to spin out of control…Until she’d come to her senses, realized where things were heading, what he would want to do next…
Ivy blinked, reached for the only remaining pair of trousers, sucked in her tummy and pulled them on.
Okay.
The zipper didn’t close but at least it went up halfway. A long silk T, a loose, gauzy shirt over that…
She stuck her feet into a pair of high-heeled slides. Freed her hair from its clip, bent at the waist and ran her hands through it before tossing it back from her face. A little makeup…
Ivy looked at herself in the mirror, gave her reflection her best camera pout and tried to imagine herself facing the helicopter pilot, whoever he was.
“I know you must be awfully busy,” she said in a breathy whisper. It made her want to gag when she heard other women talk like that but whatever worked…“I mean, I know you have lots to do…”
And what if the sexy look, the artful smile didn’t budge him? If he said sorry, he had to clear it with the prince?
“Oh,” she said, “yes, I know, but—but…” Ivy chewed on her lip. “But I have to get to Athens without telling him because—because—”
Because what?
“Because I want to buy him a gift. See, it’s a surprise but it won’t be if he knows about it…”
Not great but add a smile, fluttering lashes, maybe a light touch on the guy’s arm…
Ivy’s sexy smile faded.
“Yuck,” she said.
Then she propped her sunglasses on top of her head, hung her purse over her shoulder and got moving.
The helicopter was still on its pad.
Better still, a guy wearing a ball cap and dark glasses was squatting alongside it, examining one of the struts.
It had to be the pilot.
Ivy paused, ran her hand through her hair, then down her torso. She was dusty and sweaty, thanks to the long walk to the helipad, plus she’d come close to turning her ankle on the road’s gravel surface. There were Jeeps garaged near the palace but you had to get keys from Esias.
Fat chance.
Besides, some men liked sweaty. All those times she’d had to be oiled before a shot…
“Stop stalling,” she muttered as she walked past the hangars, placing one foot directly ahead of the other.
Her modeling strut had always been among the best.
She waited until she was a couple of yards away. “Hi.”