His For A Price |z.h|

3

Not for me, Niall thought. Not for me. 

"But I'll need you to pull all the stops out tonight," he added, confirming the blonde's worst fears. "So get down to the boutique. I've already spoken to Lou Teasdale, and she's picked out a dress for you."  

"But it's a private game," Niall protested desperately. "You - you said so. I wouldn't be allowed in." 

"That's fixed, too. Nicholas has explained I can't play without you - my talisman - my little lucky charm - and it appears that Mr. Malik is prepared to stretch a point on the occasion." He paused.  "According to Jessica, he's widower with more than just an eye for pretty twinks. In fact he's got one hell of a reputation. So you definitely have to be there." 

Niall recoiled inwardly, knowing only too well what would be expected of him tonight with a man whose sole attraction had to be his money. Because it would never be his looks. 

He thought of how he would have to smile and flutter his mascaraed lashed. Would have to toss back his extensions and cross his legs as he perched artlessly on the arm of Bobby's chair, distracting his opponent for that vital instant when he most needed to concentrate on the cards in his hands. 

After all, he'd done it so often before, he thought bitterly. Had learned to move his young, slim body in deliberate, provocative enticement in order to make men stare at him, their fantasies going into overdrive, and their minds dangerously off the game. 

He'd hoped, after the incident in Australia the previous year, that he'd be let off the hook, but his reprieve had only lasted a couple of months. Then it was business as usual, responding, when Bobby signaled by brushing his forefinger across his lips, as if Niall was on auto-pilot. 

He felt a knot of tension tighten in his chest. "Dad - I'd really rather not be involved in this." 

"But you already are, my pet." There was a harsh note in his voice. "If we can't pay our hotel bill, you won't be spared. You know that. So be a good little boy and collect your dress from Lou Teasdale. And I don't want you rushing to get ready this evening," he added warningly. "You need to take your time. Make sure you look dazzling. So tell those people they'll have to look after their own brat for once." 

Niall sat up very straight. "No," he said. "I can't. I won't. Or you'll be on your own in that suite tonight, looking down the barrel of this tycoon's gun." 

"You'll do as you're told, young man -" 

"No, dad," Niall interrupted quietly and firmly. "Not this time. After all, you can hardly drag me in there by force, not if I'm to convince this Mr. Malik that he's everything I've ever wanted in a man." 

He took a deep breath. "But first I'm going to babysit for Louis and Harry, or the deal's off. And I have to tell you that this is going to be the last time I act as a diversion for you, because each time I do it, I feel sick to my stomach." 

He paused again. "You told me you wanted me with you because I was all you had left. Because I reminded you of my mother. So what do you think she'd say if she could see me - paraded around like this, like some - cheap tart?" 

"My dear child," Bobby's tone was uneasy as well as placatory. "I think you're taking our little deception much too seriously." 

"Am I?" Niall asked bitterly. "I wonder if the men whose wallets I've helped to empty would agree with you." 

"Well, you certainly don't have to worry about Mr. Malik," Bobby said with faint surliness. "His bank account will survive a quick raid." 

"I'm not worried about him," he said quietly. "It's you." He hesitated. "Dad - swear to me that if you start winning tonight you'll get out while you're ahead. Make enough to cover our expenses here and a couple of plane tickets to somewhere else then stop." He put a hand on Bobby's arm. "Please - I'm begging you. Because I need a real life."