He might have, but he never got the chance. As the girl smiled across at Marcus, Peta lifted the price tag.

She yelped.

Marcus doubted if he’d ever heard a woman yelp before but she yelped. She pushed the suit away and stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

‘What, are you crazy?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look at the price. I can’t afford this.’

‘I’m paying. I told you. I ruined your clothes.’

‘Yeah, you spilled my drink over my five-buck shirt and you’re intending to replace it with stuff that costs three thousand dollars?’ She fended off the suit some more. ‘Three thousand dollars! Look, this seemed a really nice idea, and I’m delighted to have a bandage on my ankle and these neat crutches, but suddenly it’s out of hand. You’ve done enough. I can’t take any more. Can I leave? Now?’

She was backing towards the door.

‘You won’t get in to see Charles,’ Marcus warned. He watched the conflicting emotions play over her face and felt the same conflict himself. He’d been enjoying himself, he decided. It wasn’t half bad-millionaire playing benefactor to very attractive waif. But the waif was supposed to be grateful. She was supposed to smile sweetly and acquiesce.

This was like Cinderella saying the glass slipper didn’t fit. Or didn’t look right.

She was still backing, no mean feat on brand-new crutches, and the conflicting emotions were giving way to overriding distress. ‘I just have to deal with Charles my own way,’ she muttered.

‘You agreed to do this.’

‘I was stupid. I must have hit my head on the way down the stairs. So now, somehow, I’m standing in a swish store with a guy who has more money than I’ll ever dream about-and he’s offering to spend enough money on a suit to feed my family for a year.’

‘Your family?’

Her face shuttered even more, and the pain intensified. ‘I don’t need to talk about my family. I’m out of my depth. I need to leave. I’m sorry.’ She backed a bit more until she was balancing in the doorway. ‘I’m sorry. Thank you very much for all you’ve done.’