Книга - The Twelve Nights of Christmas

The Twelve Nights of Christmas
Sarah Morgan


His housekeeper, or his Christmas present? Unexpectedly homeless for the festive season, and exhausted from transforming the penthouse of the hotel where she works into a dazzling winter wonderland, chambermaid Evie Anderson secretly sleeps over. Woken by an outrageously sensual kiss, Evie feels her body come alive…until she realises her seducer is Rio Zaccarelli, her dangerously attractive new boss!This Christmas, it’s imperative Rio’s reputation appears spotless – but innocently enticing Evie is a temptation he can’t resist! Their scorching chemistry leads to twelve nights of endless pleasure. But will it last once the decorations come down?







Pushing open the door, Rio stopped on the threshold of the room.

Lying on top of the bed was a naked woman, her vibrant red hair spilling over the pillow like a spectacular sunset, her eyelashes forming a dark smudge above pale cheeks. Her mouth was a deep pink, her lower lip full.



Rio stared at that mouth for a full minute before trailing his gaze down the rest of her body. His mind computed every last detail. Eyes—green, he decided. Temper—hot. Body—incredible.

When she didn’t stir, he strolled into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.



Unable to resist the sensual curve of her soft mouth, Rio lowered his head and kissed her. He just had time to register that she tasted as good as she looked when her eyes opened.



Deliciously groggy, she stared at him blankly. ‘Oh…’ Her words were slurred from sleep. ‘Is it Christmas?’



If this was Christmas then maybe it was time he re-evaluated his feelings towards the festive season. Perhaps it wasn’t all bad…





The Twelve Nights of Christmas


By




Sarah Morgan











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




About the Author


SARAH MORGAN trained as a nurse, and has since worked in a variety of health-related jobs. Married to a gorgeous businessman, who still makes her knees knock, she spends most of her time trying to keep up with their two little boys, but manages to sneak off occasionally to indulge her passion for writing romance. Sarah loves outdoor life and is an enthusiastic skier and walker. Whatever she is doing, her head is always full of new characters and she is addicted to happy endings.

Sarah also writes for Mills & Boon® Medical™ Romance


To Kimberley Young:

Seven years and forty-two books together.

Thank you. xx




Chapter One


‘I NEVER thought this moment would come, Pietro. Let’s celebrate.’ Rio Zaccarelli sat back as the vintage champagne was poured into his glass. Across the table, his lawyer opened his case and handed him a sheaf of papers.

‘I’m not celebrating until this one is in the bag. How did you get a table here? I’ve never seen so many rich, powerful people in one place.’ Pietro glanced discreetly over his shoulder, his gaze skimming the other diners. His eyes widened as he focused on a man in a dark grey suit. ‘Isn’t that—?’

‘Yes. Don’t stare or you’ll have security teams swarming over your lunch.’ Rio flicked through the papers, scanning the contents. As he reached for his champagne he noticed that his hand shook slightly and he wrenched back his emotions, forcing himself to treat this like any other business deal. ‘You haven’t eaten here before?’

‘I’ve been waiting a year to get a table at this restaurant and you do it in one phone call. There are times when I wish I had your influence.’

‘Complete this deal and I’ll get you a table. That’s a promise.’ Complete this deal and I’ll buy you the restaurant.

‘I’ll hold you to that. You have to sign on the back page.’ Pietro handed him a pen and Rio signed the documents with a bold scrawl.

‘As usual, I owe you—for your discretion as well as your astonishing legal brain. Order the lobster. It’s sublime and you’ve more than earned it.’

‘Thank me when it’s all signed and sealed and not before. I’ve learned not to celebrate until the ball is in the net. It’s been a hard fight and this may still not be finished.’ The lawyer took the wedge of papers and slipped them into his briefcase. ‘The stakes are high. They haven’t stopped fighting, Rio. They don’t want you to win this.’

‘I’m aware of that.’ A red mist of anger coloured his vision and his fingers tightened on the delicate stem of the champagne flute. The tension was like steel bands around his body. ‘I want to be kept updated, Pietro. Any changes, phone my personal line.’

‘Understood.’ Pietro snapped his case shut. ‘This deal could still blow itself apart. The most important thing is that you need to keep yourself whiter than fresh snow between now and Christmas. Don’t get yourself so much as a parking ticket. Not a blemish. Not a rumour. My advice as a friend who knows you? Find an isolated ski lodge and lock yourself away. No liaisons with women, no kiss and tell stories—for the time being, sex is off the agenda.’

Rio, who hadn’t gone ten days without sex since he’d lost his virginity, kept his face expressionless. ‘I’ll be discreet.’

‘No.’ Pietro leaned forward, switching from friend back to lawyer in the blink of an eye. ‘If you want this deal watertight, then discretion isn’t enough. I’m saying no sex, Rio. Unless it’s married sex. If you happen to suddenly fall for a decent, wholesome girl whose entire objective in life is to love you and give you babies, that might actually help your case—’ he gave a faint smile and spread his hands in a fatalistic gesture ‘—but, knowing you as I do, there’s not much chance of that.’

‘None at all. There’s no such thing as a decent, wholesome girl and if there were she’d undergo a personality change the moment she met me,’ Rio drawled. ‘Within minutes she’d be thinking about prenuptial agreements and record breaking divorce settlements.’

Pietro picked up the menu. ‘I don’t blame you for being cynical, but—’

‘I understand you. No sex. Sounds like I’m in for an exciting Christmas.’ Rio thought of the Russian ballerina who was currently waiting in his apartment, lying on silk sheets, waiting for the visit he couldn’t risk making.

He’d send her diamonds and give her the use of his private jet to fly home to Moscow for Christmas. They could pick up their relationship in the New Year. Or not. Realising that he wasn’t bothered either way, he frowned.

Perhaps it was a good job he had an urgent business trip to make. He could work off his excess energy in other ways.

His eyes blank of expression, Rio stared out of the glass sided restaurant that had views over the centre of Rome, watching the crazy traffic fighting for space on the streets below.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do to achieve the outcome he wanted. Even denying his libido for a short time.

Pietro put down the menu and picked up his glass, a hint of a smile on his face. ‘I have a feeling this will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Go somewhere there are no women. I hear Antarctica is sparsely populated at this time of year.’

‘I have to fly to London on business.’

‘You are confronting Carlos?’

‘I’m firing him,’ Rio said coldly. ‘His appointment was a mistake. I’ve had a full report from the external management consultant I put into the hotel. I need to deal with the situation before his appalling mismanagement affects the reputation of my company.’

‘I don’t suppose I can persuade you to wait until after the deal is signed?’

‘Carlos cannot affect this deal.’

‘In theory I would agree, but—’ frowning, his lawyer put his glass down slowly ‘—this has been a difficult fight and we’re not there yet. I’m uneasy.’

‘That’s why I’m paying you such an astronomical sum. I pay you to be uneasy, so that I can sleep.’

Pietro lifted an eyebrow. ‘Since when did you start sleeping? You work harder than I do. Especially at this time of year. I assume you’re planning to work right through Christmas?’

‘Of course.’

The lawyer picked up the warm, crusty bread roll from his side plate and broke it in half. ‘Why do you hate this time of year so much?’

A cold, sick feeling rose in his stomach. Aware that, as always, he was the focus of attention in the restaurant, Rio sat still, his features carefully composed. Catching the eye of a pretty European princess who had been gazing at him across the restaurant since he’d arrived, he gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. Desperate for distraction, he contemplated accepting her blatant invitation, but then he remembered Pietro’s warning. No sex. Whiter than white.

Instead, he drained his champagne glass and formulated an answer to the question. ‘Why do I hate Christmas? Because everyone uses Christmas as an excuse to stop work,’ he lied smoothly, wrestling down his emotions with sheer brute force. ‘And I’m a demanding boss. I hate time wasters, you know that. But I appreciate all the hours you’ve put into this deal and I will heed the advice. Until this deal is closed, the only person sleeping in my bed will be me.’

‘It might make for a boring Christmas, but that is exactly the way it should be. I’m serious, Rio. Stay indoors. The only things you should be touching are your laptop and your phone.’ Pietro looked him in the eye. ‘Don’t underestimate how much could still go wrong.’

‘Whiter than white,’ Rio purred, a faint smile touching his mouth. ‘I can do that if I really concentrate. Anyway, I’m not likely to meet a woman who interests me in London. Shall we order?’



‘You can’t do this to me! You can’t just throw me out of my home! I can’t believe you changed the locks when I was out. Don’t you have any human feeling?’ Evie grabbed the man’s arm, almost slipping on the snow and ice as he shrugged her off and dropped his tools back into his bag.

‘Life’s tough. Blame your landlord, not me. Sorry, love.’ But he didn’t look sorry and Evie felt the panic rise as the enormity of the situation hit her.

‘It’s only twelve days until Christmas. I’ll never find anything else at this short notice.’

The emotions she’d been suppressing for six stressful weeks suddenly broke through the front she’d been presenting to the world.

This was supposed to have been her wedding day. Tonight she would have been flying to a romantic hotel in the Caribbean on her honeymoon to make a baby. Instead, she was on her own in a big, cold city where no one seemed to care about anyone else. It was snowing and she was homeless.

‘At least let me get my things.’ Not that she had much. The few things she’d brought with her could probably fit into one rubbish bag.

Even as the thought wafted through her mind, the man gestured to a black bin liner leaning against the door.

‘Those are your things.’ The man snapped his bag shut. ‘Good job you haven’t got much stuff.’

Evie wondered what was good about not having much stuff. She’d thought moving to London would be exciting and full of opportunities. She hadn’t realised how expensive it would be. Everything cost a fortune. And she hadn’t realised how lonely it would be living in a city. She couldn’t afford a social life. When a few of the girls at work had invited her out, she’d had to refuse.

The snow fluttered onto her head and neck and Evie huddled deeper inside her coat, her spirits as low as the temperature.

‘Just let me stay here tonight, OK? I’ll try and find somewhere tomorrow—’ She felt as though she was holding everything together by a single fragile thread. It had been that way since the day Jeff had texted her to tell her the wedding was off. Concerned about her grandfather’s distress, she’d taken refuge in the practical, returning presents with polite notes attached, cancelling the church and the venue, explaining to all the well-wishers who arrived at the house. She’d told herself that she’d shed her tears in private, but she’d discovered that cancelling a wedding was almost as much work as organising one, without any of the excitement to drive you forward. By the time she’d fallen into her bed at night she hadn’t had the energy to cry. ‘Please—it’s going to be impossible to find somewhere else to live this close to Christmas.’

‘It’s a dog eat dog world, love.’

Evie recoiled. ‘I love dogs. I’d never eat a dog! And it’s supposed to be the season of goodwill.’

‘I feel plenty of goodwill. Thanks to landlords like yours, I have a job.’

‘Well, it’s nice to know I’m supporting someone through the credit crunch—’ Feeling a vibrating in her pocket, Evie dug out her phone, her anxiety doubling when she saw the number. ‘Just wait there a moment and don’t go anywhere because I have to answer this or he’ll worry—he’s very old and—Grandpa? Why are you calling in the middle of the day? Are you OK?’ She prayed he hadn’t had another one of his turns. It was one thing after another. Her life was unravelling faster than a pulled thread in a sweater. She’d wanted so badly to make him proud. Instead, all she was going to do was worry him.

‘Just checking up on you because I saw the pictures of the snow on the news.’ Her grandfather sounded frail and Evie tightened her grip on the phone, hating the fact that he was getting older.

He was the person she loved most in the world. She owed him everything. ‘I’m fine, Grandpa.’ She shivered as more flakes of snow found their way inside her coat. ‘You know I love the snow.’

‘You always did. Built any snowmen yet? You always loved building snowmen.’

Evie swallowed. ‘I…I haven’t had the chance yet, Grandpa. Soon, I hope. There’s a huge park opposite the hotel where I’m working. It’s crying out for a snowman.’ She didn’t tell him that no one paused to build a snowman in London. Everyone was too busy rushing from one place to another.

‘Are you at work now? I don’t want to bother you if you’re at work, dealing with some high-powered celebrity.’

High-powered celebrity?

‘Well…er…’ Her face scarlet, Evie moved away from the man who had just tipped her life into a rubbish bag and wondered whether the lie she’d told about her job was about to come back to bite her. It was one thing trying to protect her grandfather, but she’d probably gone a little over the top. Or possibly more than a little. ‘Grandpa—’

‘I boast to everyone about you. I’m so proud of you, Evie. I told that stuffy Mrs Fitzwilliam in the room next door to mine, “My granddaughter has got herself a brilliant high-powered job. She may have been left standing at the altar—”’

Evie pressed her fingers to her aching forehead. ‘It wasn’t at the altar, Grandpa. No one got as far as the altar—’

‘“—but she picked herself up and now she’s a receptionist at the smartest hotel in London and she never would have had that opportunity if she’d married useless Jeff.” He was nothing but a dreamer. And he wasn’t good enough for you, you know that, don’t you? He was wet, and you don’t want a man who is wet. You need a real man.’

‘Any man would be a start,’ Evie muttered under her breath, ‘but fat chance of that.’

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing.’ For once grateful for her grandfather’s hearing aid, she changed the subject quickly. ‘Are you OK? Are they treating you all right there?’ Although he’d persuaded her he wanted to go into the same home as his closest friend, she still wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

‘My bones are aching in the damp weather and they make too much fuss here.’

Evie smiled. ‘It will be summer soon. And I’m glad they’re fussing.’

‘I wish I could see you at Christmas but I know it’s too far for you to come for just one day. I’m worrying about you on your own. I miss you, Evie.’

Flattened by homesickness, Evie felt a lump settle in her throat. ‘I miss you, too. And I’ll try and come up as soon as I can. And don’t worry. I’m fine.’ She pushed the words past her cold lips and then waved her hand frantically as the man loaded his tools into his van. Was he really just going to drive away and leave her here, standing on a snowy pavement in the dark? What had happened to chivalry? Her fiancé broke up with her by text and this man was about to leave a vulnerable woman alone in a big, scary city with nowhere to spend the night. Where were all the knights in shining armour when you needed them? Her grandfather was right—she needed a real man. Down with rats, wimps and cowards.

‘So how’s the job going?’ Her grandfather used his most bracing voice. ‘I told Mrs Fitzwilliam that you have Hollywood stars staying and that you’ll be meeting and greeting them personally. That shut her up. Nosy old madam.’

Evie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was going to be struck down for lying to her grandfather. On the other hand, the alternative option was disappointing and worrying him. And she did ‘meet and greet’ guests. Sort of. If she met someone, she greeted them, didn’t she? The fact that they usually ignored her didn’t count. ‘The job’s great, Grandpa. Brilliant.’ She’d been demoted and the slimy hotel manager had made a pass at her but, apart from that, it was all perfect.

The man started the engine and Evie sprinted across the pavement to stop him, her feet slithering on the ice. ‘Wait—’

Her grandfather was still chatting. ‘I’ve been watching the shares of Zaccarelli Leisure. They’re soaring. You picked a winner there, Evie. At least your job is safe.’

No. No, it wasn’t safe. Her entire existence was balancing on a knife edge.

Evie had a sudden urge to confess that the manager had tried it on with her, but stopped herself in time. She didn’t want to upset her grandfather. And she also had a sneaking worry that he might somehow get on a train, find his way to London and deal with Carlos Bellini personally. Despite his eighty-six years, her grandfather was a real man.

‘My job is…it’s…well, it’s great,’ she said firmly. ‘Really good.’

‘Going to any Christmas parties? I’m sure you’ll be able to have your pick of men if you do! And you won’t be able to make it through the Christmas season without singing The Twelve Days of Christmas at the top of your voice. You know you always love doing that.’

‘No parties planned. And I’m not quite ready to meet another man yet, Grandpa.’ Dragging the bag behind her, Evie slithered towards the van. As she let go of it, the top gaped open and her tiny silver Christmas tree tumbled into the snow and slush. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.’ A lump in her throat, she stared at her Christmas tree, which was now lying in a puddle. Her whole life felt as though it was sinking into a puddle.

‘Don’t hang around, Evie. I’m not getting any younger. Next year I want to be bouncing a great-grandchild on my knee.’

What? ‘I’ll do my best, Grandpa.’ Wondering how on earth she was going to fulfil that particular wish when she couldn’t find a man who wanted to talk to her, let alone sleep with her, Evie forced out a cheery goodbye and dropped the phone back in her pocket.

As she retrieved the dripping Christmas tree, the man drove off, showering her with slush.

It was snowing steadily and Evie was just wondering whether it was worth wading through the contents of the bag to find her umbrella when her phone rang again.

‘Why am I suddenly the most popular person in the world?’ Looking at the number flashing on her phone, she groaned. Oh, no. ‘Tina? I know I’m late, but I’ve—’ she flinched as her boss gave her a sharp lecture ‘—yes, I know Salvatorio Zaccarelli is arriving tomorrow and—yes, I know it’s important because he’s looking at the way the hotel is run and we’re all under scrutiny. Yes, I know I was lucky you gave me another chance with this job when you could have fired me—’ She gritted her teeth as she listened. ‘I—yes, the Penthouse will be perfect, I promise—I’m lucky that Carlos wants me to do the job personally—I do know Mr Zaccarelli is the most important guest we ever have—I know he doesn’t suffer fools and won’t tolerate anything less than perfection—’ the guy was obviously a cold, heartless pig ‘—I feel the same way,’ Evie lied, making a mental note not to be anywhere near the scary, ruthless tycoon when he arrived at the hotel. The way she was feeling at the moment, she’d probably punch him. That was one ‘meet and greet’ that was not going to happen. If she saw him coming she was going to dive for cover.

Tina was still talking and Evie slithered her way towards the bus stop, the rubbish bag banging against her legs, her clothes soaked through. Snow landed on her hair and water dripped down her neck. ‘—Festive? Sparkling? Yes, I’m going to decorate the Christmas tree—I’ll be there ever so soon, but I just need to—’ she broke off; I just need to find somewhere to sleep tonight when I come off my shift at midnight ‘—catch a bus. The buses are mad because of Christmas, but I’m on my way now.’ All she ever did was tell lies, Evie thought, struggling with the bag. She lied to protect her grandfather from more worry and she lied to Tyrannosaurus Tina because, until she’d found something better, she couldn’t tell the woman where to stick her job. Maybe she should suggest to scary Salvatorio Zaccarelli that the first person he should fire was the manager of his flagship hotel.

As she sat on the crowded bus, jammed between stressed out Christmas shoppers, Evie wondered if she should have just told her grandfather the truth. That London was lonely. That she missed him. That she’d been demoted after just days in her new job by a boss who hated her. Apparently, she’d been too friendly.

Evie sighed, well aware that she’d probably been a little too desperate for human company. But she still didn’t understand why that was a crime. As a receptionist in a hotel, how could you be too friendly? Anyway, she had no opportunity to be friendly now because, as a member of the housekeeping staff, she didn’t often meet any guests. She didn’t meet anyone. She’d taken to talking to herself as she cleaned bathroom mirrors.

Trying to take her mind off it, Evie picked up a discarded magazine and flicked through the pages, staring gloomily at the slender models wearing the magazine’s recommendations for glittery dresses perfect for the party season. Apparently, silver was bang on trend. Absently, she picked the one she would have worn if she had money and had actually been invited to a party. Shimmering silver, she thought, with diamonds and swept up hair. Except that she’d look ridiculous dressed like that.

Face it, Evie, you’re a bit of a freak.

Hearing Jeff’s voice in her head, she dropped the magazine back on the seat, jumped off the bus and walked towards the back entrance of the prestigious hotel that provided a bolthole for the world’s rich and famous. She was just wondering where she was going to hide a rubbish bag when a sleek black Mercedes drove through a puddle and muddy water sprayed over her tights and shoes.

‘Oh, for—’ Hopping to one side, soaking wet, Evie glared after the expensive car, imagining the warm, luxurious interior. ‘Thanks a lot. Just as long as you’re comfortable in your cosy, rich cocoon.’ Her eyes widened in disbelief as she read the number plate. ‘TYC00N.’ Drenched and shivering, she wondered what it was like to live a life of luxury, filled with diamonds, shimmering silver dresses and ostentatious car accessories.

‘Hi, Evie, you’re late.’ A colleague hurried past her in a cloud of perfume and hairspray. ‘You’ve already missed the staff briefing. Tina said you were to go straight to the Penthouse because she doesn’t have time to waste with you. The big boss is arriving tomorrow. Rumour has it that he is going to axe anyone who doesn’t fit. Even Creepy Carlos is nervous. Personally, I can’t wait to see Rio Zaccarelli in person. He’s the most stunningly good-looking man I’ve ever seen.’

Chilled to the bone, Evie sneezed. ‘You’ve never seen him.’

‘I’ve seen him in pictures. Red-hot Rio, that’s what we’re calling him.’

‘Ruthless Rio is what I’m calling him,’ Evie muttered and her colleague frowned at the bag in her hand.

‘Since when have you been responsible for dealing with the trash?’

‘Oh, I like to be helpful. Versatile, that’s me—’ Evie pinned a rigid grin on her face, refusing to admit that she was carrying her home around. Like a snail, she thought, as she followed the girl through the glass door and into the plush, privileged warmth of a different life. Maybe there was a number plate that spelled out DISASTER. She could stick it on her back to warn people she was coming.

Hiding her bag in the basement behind some large pipes, Evie took refuge in the peaceful elegance of the Penthouse suite. She felt so utterly miserable that, for the first time since her aborted wedding and humiliating demotion, she was relieved that she wasn’t on Reception, having to smile and be cheerful. She didn’t want to meet and greet. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and not emerge until her life had improved.

The warm, spacious luxury of the top floor suite made her feel instantly calmer and Evie looked around her wistfully. Two deep white sofas faced each other across a priceless rug and flames flickered in the fireplace. Huge floor to ceiling windows gave views over Hyde Park and the elegant buildings of Knightsbridge.

Someone had put a large fir tree next to the grand piano and boxes of decorations were neatly stacked, ready for Evie to create a perfect Christmas.

A perfect Christmas for someone else.

‘Imagine spending Christmas somewhere like this,’ she murmured, talking to herself as she explored the Penthouse suite. ‘Talk about how the other half live.’

Feeling incredibly down, Evie set to work decorating the tree, trying not to think about the times she’d done the same thing with her grandfather. Last year they’d shared a wonderful Christmas. She’d baked Christmas cake and Christmas puddings and roasted a turkey just for the two of them. They’d eaten leftovers for weeks. Turkey curry, turkey soup, turkey sandwiches—

Only a few weeks later, her grandfather had suffered a mini stroke and she’d had no choice but to agree to let him go into the home where his friends were. They’d sold his cottage to pay the exorbitant fees and now she was miles away in a city where no one spoke to anyone except to ask directions.

And she had nowhere to sleep tonight. The thought terrified her and for a moment she considered confessing to Tina and asking if she had any free rooms. Imagining the response she’d get, a hysterical laugh bubbled up from the cauldron of panic that was simmering inside her. Tina would simply remind her that one night in the cheapest room in this hotel was more than her monthly salary.

Merry Christmas, Evie.

She worked without a break, twisting lights through the branches of the enormous tree, hanging glittering silver baubles and filling vases with elaborate displays of holly. Then she started to clean the Penthouse. She was only halfway through when the door opened and Carlos, the hotel manager, strode in.

Evie was immediately on the defensive, horribly aware that she was alone with him and that her mobile phone was in her coat pocket at the other end of the room.

She’d avoided him since the day he’d tried to kiss her and she stood warily, her mind scrambling through her options. They were pitifully few. He ran the hotel and held her future in the palm of his hand. Unfortunately, he’d made it clear that he wanted to hold other bits of her in the palm of his hand, too.

His hair shone greasily under the lights and Evie shuddered, bracing herself for criticism.

Was he looking for an excuse to fire her?

‘It looks perfect. Incredibly Christmassy. Just what I wanted for Rio.’ Something about his smile made her uneasy.

‘You’re sure you like it?’

‘Absolutely.’ His eyes trailed over her body. ‘You’re wet.’

Evie stood rigid, wondering why the only man to pay her any attention had to be a total creep.

‘It’s snowing. I had to wait for a bus.’

‘I don’t want my staff catching pneumonia. Take a hot shower.’

She felt herself blush. ‘I can’t afford the time. I still have loads to do and my shift ends in thirty minutes.’

‘You’re on again first thing tomorrow morning.’ Carlos frowned. ‘Stay here tonight. That way, you can start work straight away. I want everything perfect.’

He was giving her permission to stay in the hotel?

Unable to believe her luck, Evie almost sobbed with relief. ‘That would be helpful,’ she said casually. ‘Do we have a spare room?’

‘No, we’re full. But you can stay here. In the Penthouse.’

Evie looked at him stupidly. ‘Here?’

‘Why not? Rio isn’t arriving until tomorrow afternoon. Your shift ends at midnight and begins again at seven in the morning. It makes perfect sense for you to stay here. Sleep on top of the bed if it bothers you. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.’

Evie stared at him, her instincts on full alert. ‘You’re suggesting that I stay in the Penthouse?’

‘Why not? It isn’t doing anyone any harm and I owe you a favour.’ He hesitated. ‘Evie, I apologise if I came on a little strong a few weeks ago. I misread the signals.’

She hadn’t given him any signals. ‘I’d rather forget that.’ Evie, feeling horribly awkward, was nevertheless relieved by his surprise apology. Perhaps he wasn’t trying to find reasons to fire her. ‘How is your finger?’

‘Healing.’ Carlos flexed his bandaged finger and gave a rueful smile. ‘Seriously, Evie. Stay here tonight. It’s in the interests of the hotel—you’ll get more work done if you’re here on the premises.’

What he said made sense.

So why was she hesitating? She’d have somewhere warm to stay and she could start searching for another place tomorrow. ‘All right. Thanks. If you’re sure.’

‘Do you have any dry clothes?’

Evie thought of the bag of belongings she’d left in the basement. ‘I have a…a bag downstairs.’

‘I’ll arrange for someone to collect it. Where did you leave it?’



Flanked by his security team, Rio Zaccarelli left his private jet under the cover of darkness and slid into the waiting car.

‘No press—that’s good.’ Antonio, his senior bodyguard, scanned the area. ‘No one knows you’re coming. Do you want us to call ahead and warn the hotel? They’re expecting you in the afternoon, not at four in the morning.’

‘No.’ Rio lounged in the back of the car, his eyes hooded as he contemplated the surprise that would no doubt accompany his unexpected arrival. ‘I don’t want to announce myself.’

Knowing never to question the boss, Antonio simply slammed the car door shut and slid in next to the driver. ‘Shouldn’t take us long to get there at this hour. No traffic. I suppose it’s because it’s Christmas. Lots of people have already stopped work.’

Rio didn’t reply.

A cold feeling spread across his skin. A feeling that had nothing to do with the dropping temperature and the swirling snowflakes outside the car. He looked out of the window, keeping his expression blank.

Christmas.

Twenty years had passed and yet he still hated this time of year.

If he had his way, Christmas would be scrubbed from the calendar.

Blocking out the endless twinkling lights and Christmas decorations adorning the dark streets, Rio was for once grateful for the endless demands of his BlackBerry.

Anna, the ballerina, had sent him fourteen messages, each one more desperate than the last.

He read the first three, saw the word ‘commitment’ and deleted the rest without reading them. Christmas, commitment—why was it that his least favourite words all began with C?

The car pulled up outside the hotel and Rio sat for a moment, surveying the elegant architecture. It was the most expensive few acres of real estate in the world.

You’ll never make anything of yourself, Rio. You’ll amount to nothing.

Rio gave a grim smile as he surveyed ‘nothing’.

He owned it. All of it. Every last brick. Not bad for someone who had once watched his life ground into the dirt.

Leaning forward, he spoke to his driver in Italian. ‘Take me to the rear entrance.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Rio sprang from the car and walked through the rear door of the hotel, his mouth tightening in disapproval as no one challenged him.

Antonio was right behind him. ‘I’ll go first.’

‘No. I want you to go back downstairs and check those security cameras. And time how long it takes them to discover I’m in the building.’ Rio sprinted up ten floors and reached the locked door that protected the exclusive Penthouse suite. He entered a code into the pad and the door opened. Realising that no one had changed the code, his mouth tightened and a dangerous spark lit his eyes.

Inside the luxurious suite, it was warm and peaceful.

And decorated for Christmas.

Rio froze.

He’d given strict instructions—no decorations.

His tension levels rocketing, his gaze fastened on the tall fir tree that glittered and sparkled in the elegant living room, taunting him—reminding him.

Turning his back on it, he prowled through the suite. His instincts, honed through years of dealing with people, were suddenly on full alert. Something didn’t feel right and it wasn’t just that his express instructions had been overlooked.

His firm mouth hardened and he walked purposefully towards the bedroom suite, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

Pushing open the door, Rio stopped on the threshold of the room.

Lying on top of the bed was a naked woman, her glorious red hair spilling over the pillow like a spectacular sunset, her eyelashes forming a dark smudge above pale cheeks. Her mouth was a deep pink, her lower lip full and softly curved.

Rio stared at that mouth for a full minute before trailing his gaze down the rest of her body. It wasn’t just her mouth that curved. The rest of her did, too, although some of the secrets of her body were concealed beneath all that glorious hair. As he studied the astonishingly vibrant colour, he felt his libido come alive. His mind computed every last detail. Eyes—green, he decided. Temper—hot. Body—incredible. She had the longest legs he’d ever seen and, as for the rest of her—

When she didn’t stir, he strolled into the room.

Distracted by the full curve of her breasts, he sat down on the edge of the bed and slid a leisurely hand over her shoulder, brushing aside a strand of silky hair.

Unable to resist the sensual curve of her soft mouth, Rio lowered his head and kissed her. He just had time to register that she tasted as good as she looked when her eyes opened.

Deliciously groggy, she stared at him blankly. ‘Oh—’ Her words were slurred from sleep. ‘Is it Christmas?’

If this was Christmas, then maybe it was time he re-evaluated his feelings towards the festive season. Perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Blue, Rio thought absently, correcting his earlier assumption. Her eyes were the palest aquamarine.

Lust shot through him and he felt himself harden. Because he was staring down at her, he saw the exact moment she was gripped by the same sexual awareness. Those incredible eyes darkened. Her lips parted and he saw the moist tip of her tongue.

Unable to help himself, Rio lowered his head and was about to kiss her again when a light flashed.

He whipped round in time to see a man darting from the room, camera in hand.

Swearing under his breath in Italian, Rio moved with a speed that would have impressed an Olympic sprinter, but the man was already out of the door.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and speed-dialled his security team but before Antonio could answer the call, Carlos came striding into the room.

‘Rio? I was told there was an intruder in the Penthouse. We had no idea you were arriving this early. Reception should have notified me. How was your journey?’ He held out his hand in greeting and then froze, his eyes widening as he stared over Rio’s shoulder and through the open doors of the bedroom. ‘I’m so sorry—I had no idea you had company—how very embarrassing. Rio, forgive me…We’ll give you privacy, of course…’

Rio didn’t have to look round to identify the reason for the triumphant gleam in the man’s eyes. He had his lawyer’s words ringing in his ears.

The most important thing is that you need to keep yourself whiter than fresh snow between now and Christmas.

He, of all people, had allowed a woman to distract him and his carelessness could have the most devastating consequences.

He’d been set up.

He’d walked right into a trap.

And now he was going to pay.




Chapter Two


DIZZY from the kiss and fully aware of just how much trouble she was in, Evie scrambled frantically off the bed and then remembered she was naked. She grabbed the silk throw and covered herself, but it refused to co-operate, slipping and slithering through her fingers. Finally she managed to fasten it, sarong-style around her body. She clutched it tightly, praying that it wouldn’t fall off. Hurrying through to the living room, she saw Carlos standing there, deep in conversation with a tall, broad-shouldered man. The man who had kissed her a few moments earlier.

Still shaken from the explosion of chemistry, a strange heat spread through her body as she took her first proper look at him and immediately her grandfather’s words flew into her head—a real man.

He dominated the room with the sheer force of his presence, his powerful legs spread apart, his stance unmistakably commanding as he focused furious black eyes on Carlos’s face.

Hearing her entrance, he transferred that terrifying gaze to Evie and she stood pinned to the spot, the simmering fury in his eyes acting like a bucket of cold water.

She went from burning to shivering in the space of a glance.

‘I…I’d better get dressed,’ she stammered and he made a sound in his throat that sounded ominously like a growl.

‘You’ll stay exactly where you are until I give you permission to move.’

Whatever had propelled him to kiss her, it obviously wasn’t something he intended to repeat. There was no softness in his eyes. No hint of the sexual promise that had shimmered only moments earlier.

And suddenly she knew exactly who he was and that realisation came with a cold flash of horror. She’d once seen his picture in the back of the hotel brochure—read a statement from the lord and master of the Zaccarelli Leisure Group. The man who had kissed her was Salvatorio Zaccarelli—Rio to the media, who licked their lips over his taste for glamorous women and super-fast cars.

From what she’d read, Evie had already decided that he was a ruthless, cold-hearted money-making machine who didn’t give a damn about the human cost of his decisions. When he took a personal interest in one of his hotels the first thing he did was to change everything he didn’t like, and that included the staff. He didn’t visit when things were going well. Only when they were going badly did he thunder in like an executioner wielding his sword. There was nothing gentle about him. Nothing soft. He treated women the same way as his business. He hired and fired. No one was with him for long.

Evie had planned to keep her head down and stay out of his way.

Realising that her plan had backfired in the most spectacular fashion she stared, terrified, into his smouldering black eyes. He was obviously livid that she’d spent the night in the Penthouse.

Unless Carlos would admit that he’d given her permission, her job was toast.

And so was her dignity.

Evie swallowed hard, wondering why he’d kissed her. From the firm, deliberate seduction of his mouth to the sensuous brush of his hand over her bare skin, it had been a kiss loaded with sizzling chemistry and erotic promise.

Even as she was wondering if it was usual for him to kiss the staff before firing them, a burly man she’d didn’t know came sprinting through the door.

‘Sorry, boss.’ He stared hard at Rio Zaccarelli, as if in some silent communication. ‘Lost him. He must have nipped down the back stairs. I’ve contacted the local police and I’m going to go through the CCTV footage with hotel security. We’ll identify him. Do you want me to question the girl?’

Question her? Why would they want to question her? Her crime was straightforward enough, wasn’t it?

‘You don’t know her?’ Carlos looked shocked. ‘I assumed—why else would she be in your bedroom, Rio?’

Appalled, Evie stared at him. Obviously, Carlos was going to put his own future before hers. Presumably he was worried that if he confessed to having given her permission to sleep in the Penthouse, he’d be disciplined. Feeling intensely vulnerable, she stood there, searching desperately for a way out of this mess.

‘Accept my apologies, Rio.’ Carlos’s voice was smooth. ‘We normally screen our staff very carefully but at this time of year when we’re so busy—’ He left the sentence hanging. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Evie. You abused a position of trust.’

‘She works here?’ Rio Zaccarelli’s voice was harsh. ‘She’s one of your staff?’

Everyone turned to look at her and Evie burned with humiliation. So that was that. No one was going to believe she’d slept in the Penthouse with permission. They’d believe Carlos, not a lowly member of the housekeeping team. She was nothing more than cannon fodder. Whatever happened next, she was doomed.

There was no point in defending herself.

She had no home, no job and it was less than two weeks until Christmas.

Thinking of her grandfather, Evie felt despair seep through her veins. There was no way she could tell him. Not just before Christmas. He was so proud of her new job and the way she’d picked herself up.

You’re a real soldier, Evie.

After everything he’d done for her, she’d let him down.

Maybe she should just forget dignity and beg. Or maybe she should try kissing the boss again. Her eyes drifted over his handsome face and rested on his firm, sensuous mouth. That same mouth that had taken liberties with hers only moments earlier. Without thinking, she drew her tongue over her lower lip, tasting his kiss.

He saw the gesture and his eyes flared with anger and something else, far, far more dangerous. With a final contemptuous glance, he turned back to Carlos. ‘Do you know what you’ve done?’ His voice was thickened with emotion. ‘Have you any idea how much damage you’ve caused?’

Confused, Evie watched as Rio Zaccarelli transferred the full force of his anger onto Carlos. Why? Had he guessed that Carlos had given her permission? Had he seen through the lies? He was rumoured to have a brain as sharp as a blade.

Hope flickered to life inside her. If Rio Zaccarelli knew Carlos had given her permission, then maybe he’d let her off this time.

He had the reputation of being an exacting boss with impossibly high standards, but, all the same—

Sweat shone on Carlos’s forehead. ‘What damage? I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

With a growl of anger, Rio Zaccarelli crossed the room in three long strides and locked his fist in the front of Carlos’s shirt. ‘Have you no conscience? No sense of human decency?’

Seeing the black expression on Rio Zaccarelli’s face, Evie covered her mouth with her hand.

Wasn’t he going a bit overboard?

Oh, dear God, he was going to punch creepy Carlos.

And Carlos looked terrified and triumphant at the same time. Although he was undoubtedly afraid, Evie had the strangest feeling that he was enjoying seeing the other man lose control. His expression was mocking rather than apologetic, as if the outcome had exceeded his most extravagant hopes.

Trying to make sense of it and failing, she could do nothing but watch as the drama unfolded in front of her. The two men appeared to have forgotten her existence. They faced each other down like two bulls fighting for territory, but there was no doubt in her mind who was the superior, both in strength and intellect.

While Carlos blustered and bumbled, Rio’s anger was cold and a thousand times more frightening.

‘If you have lost me this deal—’

‘Me?’ His voice contradicting the look in his eyes, Carlos sounded shocked. ‘You think I had anything to do with this? You seriously think—? Rio, I know you don’t need this sort of publicity right now—I know you’re at a delicate stage of negotiations. This could ruin everything for you.’

Evie looked on in disbelief, trying to follow the thread of the conversation. This was all about some stupid deal? That was why Ruthless Rio was so angry? What had happened to everyone’s priorities? All they thought about was money, money, money.

It was only because she had her eyes fixed on his taut profile that Evie saw the flash of raw emotion cross Rio Zaccarelli’s face. For a moment she thought he was going to reach out and grab Carlos by the throat.

Instead, he released him.

‘Vai al diavolo. Get out of my sight.’ His voice was strangely robotic, his features a mask of contempt. ‘From this moment on, I don’t know you. You don’t work for me and I don’t want to hear from you or see you again. Step into one of my hotels and I’ll have you removed. My lawyers will sort out the details with you. And if this causes me trouble—if I lose—’ He broke off, apparently unable to finish the sentence, his voice thickened with an emotion so much deeper than anger that Evie felt real fear.

How could he be so angry about one stupid deal?

She waited for Carlos to defend himself but the other man shot through the door without looking backwards.

Which, basically, left her alone with a madman.

Evie tightened her grip on the throw. She loathed Carlos, but at least he was a familiar face. If murder was about to be committed, then it might have been useful to have a witness. Or even an alternative victim.

The burly man, who she assumed was a bodyguard, flexed his fingers threateningly. ‘Do you want me to deal with him, boss? I reckon I could get the information you want out of him in less than a minute. He’s a wimp.’

Another wimp, Evie thought numbly. The world was populated by wimps. Wimps and bullies.

‘Don’t waste your time.’ Rio’s tone was ice-cold. ‘I know a quicker way of extracting information.’

Realising that she was the ‘quicker way’, Evie took a step backwards, seriously scared.

‘Calm down,’ she stammered. ‘Take a deep breath—count to ten—or maybe a hundred—’ She had absolutely no idea what was going on, but it was obvious that she was in enormous trouble for sleeping in the Penthouse. ‘I don’t suppose there is any point in saying sorry or trying to explain, but honestly, I don’t see that it’s that big a deal. I know I did wrong, but I think you’re overreacting—’ She gulped as Rio Zaccarelli strode towards her.

He stripped off his jacket and threw it over the back of the nearest chair. His white silk shirt moulded to his wide, muscular shoulders, hinting at the power concealed beneath and Evie found herself staring in fascinated horror as he rolled the sleeves back in a deliberate movement. He looked like a boxer preparing for a fight. And she was obviously earmarked as the opponent. She wondered whether he’d removed his screamingly expensive jacket so that he didn’t end up with her blood spattered on it.

His eyes dark with fury, he came to a halt right in front of her. ‘Not a big deal? Either you are the most insensitive, selfish, greedy woman I’ve ever met or you have no idea of the magnitude of the trouble you’ve just caused.’

Up close, she could see the rough shadow that framed his hard jaw. She saw that his eyelashes were thick and dark and that underneath his fierce gaze there were dangerous shadows. Other women talked about his monumental sex appeal, but Evie was too scared to feel anything other than fear. ‘I’m not selfish or greedy,’ she defended herself in a shaky voice, ‘and I honestly don’t see that spending a night in that bed is such a big deal. I shouldn’t have done it, but I thought the Penthouse was empty overnight. And I didn’t even dirty the sheets. I slept on top of the covers.’

‘Of course you slept on top of the covers,’ he gritted. ‘How else could the photographer have taken his picture?’ He fisted his hand in the front of the throw and pulled her hard against him. Breathing heavily, the backs of his fingers pressed into her cleavage as he held her trapped.

Evie, who rarely felt intimidated by men because of her height, was definitely intimidated now.

For once she felt dwarfed, his superior height making her feel small and insignificant and she swiftly re-evaluated her belief that it would be nice to meet a man taller than her.

Through the mist of panic, her brain finally latched on to something he’d said.

‘Photographer?’ Trying to breathe, she stared up at him blankly. ‘What photographer?’

His eyes dropped to her mouth and that single look weakened her knees. For a moment she saw what other women saw. Raw sex appeal. She might have been attracted to him herself if she hadn’t been so terrified. Wondering if she was the only one who was feeling suffocated, she gasped as he suddenly released her. Her hands shot out to balance herself and the silk throw slid to the ground.

With a squeak of embarrassment, Evie made a grab for it but not before she’d seen the sudden darkening in his eyes and heard the burly security man gulp. ‘I need to get dressed!’ She’d hung her wet clothes on the heated towel rail in the bathroom, but they ought to be dry by now.

With a contemptuous sound, Rio Zaccarelli turned away from her. ‘It’s a little late for modesty, don’t you think? By tomorrow, that photograph will be all over the world.’

‘What photograph?’ She wrapped the throw around her as tightly as she could. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Rio gave a growl of anger. ‘The photograph of us kissing. I want the name of the photographer and the name of the person who put you up to this. Start giving me facts.’

Evie glanced back towards the bedroom, retracing the events of the past few minutes. ‘I…someone took a picture of me?’

A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘Generally, I pride myself on my control but today I seem to be falling short of my usual high standards. If you don’t want to see a first-hand demonstration of the meaning of the word angry, then don’t play stupid.’

‘I’m not playing stupid! I didn’t see a photographer. You were in my line of vision, remember? All I saw was you.’

Deep colour highlighted his cheekbones and his eyes burned. ‘Are you seriously expecting me to believe that you didn’t see the light or the man running out of the room?’

Evie thought back, but all she could think about was how amazing it had felt to be kissed by him. She remembered warmth, the most incredible excitement, flashing lights—flashing lights?

Appalled, she stared at him and his mouth twisted in cynical derision.

‘Memory returning?’ He was so arrogantly sure of himself that Evie bristled and decided that there was no way she was confessing she’d thought the lights were part of the firework display set off in her body by his incredible kiss. His monumentally overinflated ego obviously didn’t need any help from her.

‘I didn’t see him. As I said, you were blocking my view of the room.’

‘Unfortunately, I wasn’t blocking his view of you. He now has a picture of us—’ his expression was grim as he watched her ‘—together.’

As the implications of his words sank home, Evie felt her limbs weaken. ‘Hold on a moment. Are you telling me that some stranger just took a picture of me, naked on the bed?’ Panic and horror rushed up inside her. She hated having her picture taken, even when she was fully clothed, but naked—?

‘I’ve already warned you—I’m not in the mood.’ There was no mistaking the deadly warning in his tone or the tension in his body language. He was a man no one was likely to mess with and Evie felt her mouth dry as her gaze clashed with pitch-black eyes.

‘I’m not in the mood, either,’ she squeaked. ‘And I’m not playing games. How did a photographer get in here? Why would he want to take a photograph of me? What’s he going to do with it?’ Anxiety set her tongue loose but he silenced her with a single searing glance.

‘If you utter one more ingenuous question I just might drop you naked on the street outside. How much did he pay you?’

Struggling to keep up with his thought process, Evie opened her mouth and closed it again. ‘You honestly think anyone would pay to take a picture of my body? Are you mad?’ Her voice rose. ‘Presumably, you’ve already noticed that I’m not exactly a supermodel! The only way anyone would be interested in looking at me naked is one of those hideous before and after photos. You know—“and this is Evie before she went on the wonder diet and lost twenty kilos.”’

His eyes blazed dark with incredulity. ‘Is that all you can think about? Whether the photographer took your good side?’

‘No, because I don’t have a good side! I look the same from every angle, which is why I never let anyone take my photo!’ She’d never before met a man she wanted to kiss and slap at the same time and it was such a shockingly confusing sensation that her head spun. She wanted to defend herself. She wanted to protest that she wasn’t superficial and that having a photograph taken of her naked was right up there with her worst nightmares. It was like being back in the playground.

Evie the elephant—

‘Wh…what’s he going to do with that photograph?’ She tried to calm herself down with logic and reason. This wasn’t the playground. ‘No one is going to want to look at a picture of me naked. There is no reason anyone would want to publish a picture of me…’ as she stared into his taut, handsome face, her voice faded to a horrified whisper ‘…but there’s every reason why they’d publish a picture of you.’ And she was in that picture. Suddenly, everything was clear. She thought of all the vile, degrading ‘kiss and tell’ stories she’d read. ‘Oh, my God—’

Rio was watching her, his mouth tight. ‘How much did he pay you?’

‘Nothing! I don’t know anything about this! I’m as innocent as you are.’ But she could tell he didn’t believe her and what she saw in those glittering black eyes was so terrifying that she wanted to confess everything on the spot. Because his expression was so scary, she looked at his mouth instead and suddenly all she was thinking about was that scorching kiss. Where had he learned to kiss like that?

‘Innocent girls don’t lie in wait, naked, on a guy’s bed.’

‘I wasn’t lying in wait! How could you even think that? I’ve been kicked out of my flat and I had nowhere to go last night and—’ Evie thought about the sequence of events. Carlos had offered her the use of the room. When she’d refused, he’d insisted. It was Carlos who had encouraged her to take a shower and dry her wet clothes on the radiator. Appalled, she looked up at Rio Zaccarelli and saw his mouth tighten as he read her mind.

‘Your face is very revealing, so don’t even think of telling me you have no idea what’s going on.’ The menacing chill in his voice confirmed just how much trouble she was in and she felt the colour drain out of her cheeks as he turned up the pressure.

‘I’ve been set up.’

A dangerous glint shone in his eyes. ‘I’m listening.’

He didn’t believe her. ‘Carlos gave me instructions to sleep here tonight—’ Evie clutched at the silk throw, her mind racing forward with possible scenarios, all of which sickened her. No matter what she said, Rio Zaccarelli wasn’t going to believe that she had nothing to do with this. ‘I was really, really stupid—what are they going to do with that photograph?’

For a moment he didn’t answer. He simply stared at her, as if he were making a decision about something. A slight frown touched his brows and he strolled around her, looking at her from the front, the back and the sides. When he finally spoke, his voice was hard. ‘They’re going to publish it. By tomorrow, that photograph will be plastered all over the Internet and the newspapers.’

The bodyguard cleared his throat. ‘Boss—’

Rio turned on him and said something in Italian that silenced the other man immediately.

Evie felt faint with horror. ‘What?’ That was by far the worst scenario on her list and she gave a low moan of horror as she contemplated exactly what that would mean. ‘I thought maybe they’d just use it to blackmail you or something—’

‘Is that what they told you?’ His tone was dangerously soft. ‘Is that what you agreed?’

‘No! I didn’t agree anything. I was thinking aloud—’ Flustered, realising that she was digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole, Evie sank her hand into her hair, trying to think straight so that she could be more articulate. ‘What I mean is, at least if it’s blackmail they could be persuaded not to publish it. Of all the things they could do with that photo, publishing it would be the worst. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that would be? I’d never be able to go anywhere ever again.’

‘Embarrassing? Do you think I care about being embarrassed? ‘ The lethal cocktail of physical height and powerful personality left her shaking and intimidated but all those emotions were eclipsed by the prospect of being exposed physically to the mocking eyes of the world.

‘No, you probably don’t care—’ Evie’s voice rose ‘—because you’re not the one who was lying there naked with your bottom on full view! And stop trying to scare me! This whole thing is bad enough without having to wonder whether you’re going to explode any minute.’ She covered her face with her free hand—the other was still clutching the throw, holding it in place. ‘Oh, my God—if that photo goes in the papers—everyone I know will see it—Grandpa will see it—he’ll be mortified—’ Melting with embarrassment, she looked at him helplessly. ‘You have to do something. You have to stop it. You’re completely loaded—can’t you pay them or something? Do whatever it is they want you to do.’ The thought of being seen naked in public was the most hideous thing that had ever happened to her. Worse than being demoted. Worse than losing her job. Worse than being dumped by Jeff.

Evie cringed with horror as she tried to work out what angle the flash had come from and remember exactly how she’d been lying.

It took her right back to the nightmare days of hiding in the corner of the girls’ changing rooms trying to wriggle into her gym kit with no one noticing.

‘If you genuinely care, then perhaps you should have thought of the consequences before you agreed to lie on the bed.’

Evie ground her teeth. ‘I lay on the bed because I didn’t have anywhere else to lie, OK? I told you—I lost my flat. I was in a fix and when Carlos made that offer—’ she licked her lips ‘—it just seemed too good to be true. Turned out it was too good to be true. Look, it doesn’t really matter whether you believe me or not. What’s important is stopping that photograph. Please pay them off.’

His gaze was steady. ‘They don’t want money.’

‘Then what do they want?’

He turned away from her but not before she’d seen the dark shadow flicker across his face. ‘They want to make my life…difficult.’

‘What about my life?’

‘They’re not interested in you. You’ve played your part. You’re expendable. I’m sure you can find some lucrative way to use your five minutes of fame.’

‘Do you honestly think I want to be famous for the size of my bottom?’

‘If you are genuinely distressed about the idea of being pictured, why did you agree to this?’

‘Are you thick or something? I didn’t agree to it!’

There was a crashing sound as the door to the suite burst open behind him and three uniformed hotel security men pounded into the room, horribly out of breath.

Evie suddenly wished she could vanish into thin air.

Rio took a slow, deliberate look at the watch on his wrist. ‘I have been in this hotel for seventeen minutes,’ he said in an icy tone, ‘and no one has challenged me. That is sixteen and a half minutes too long. The security code for the Penthouse hasn’t been changed since the last time I stayed here as a guest, which is presumably how a complete stranger managed to access the suite. The security camera at the rear entrance is pointed away from the street. A journalist managed to get access to my suite. Is this how you protect the guests in your care?’

Evie watched as Arnold’s forehead grew shiny with sweat. The security chief was one of the few people who had been kind to her since she’d arrived in London and she felt a tiny flame of anger warm her insides as she saw him squirm.

‘We didn’t know you were arriving in the middle of the night, sir. We were expecting you later this morning and—’ His jaw dropped as he saw Evie. ‘Evie? What are you doing in the Penthouse?’

Evie tightened her grip on the silk bedspread. ‘I had nowhere to sleep last night, Arnold—’

Rio’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know this woman?’

‘Of course. Her name is Evie Anderson.’ Arnold’s expression softened. ‘She works here as a receptionist—I mean, a member of the housekeeping staff.’

Evie was just beginning to hope that Arnold might vouch for her integrity when the door to the Penthouse opened again and a portly woman in her fifties arrived, breathless and flustered. It was obvious that she’d dressed in a hurry and her skirt was on back to front and the buttons on her shirt unaligned. Clearly woken from sleep, one half of her hair was flattened to her head and the other was in wild disarray.

Evie groaned in horror. No. How had Tina found out?

‘Mr Zaccarelli—we were expecting you much later to-day—I’m so sorry no one was here to greet you—’ Oozing deference, the woman’s discomfiture was almost painful to watch. ‘I’m Tina Hunter, Director of Guest Relations. We’re going to do anything in our power to make sure your stay here is memorable.’

Tina’s eyes widened with horror as she turned her head and saw Evie.

‘Evelyn? What do you think you’re doing?’ She turned back to Rio, squirming with mortification. ‘I’m so sorry. She’s given us nothing but trouble, that girl—thinks she’s better than the rest of us. It’s my fault for giving her a second chance, but that’s me all over. I’ve always been a soft touch. Evelyn, I want you to collect your things and go.’

Shocked by the injustice, Evie stared at her. ‘You haven’t even asked for my side of the story.’

Tina’s cheeks turned scarlet. ‘You’re naked in a guest’s bedroom. That’s enough for me. Let me just say that I find it incredibly tacky that you would try and force yourself on a billionaire.’

‘Excuse me?’ Almost speechless with outrage, Evie exploded. ‘Look at the guy! Even if I wanted to, I’m hardly likely to be able to force myself on him, am I? He’s built like a—’ Her voice tailed off and colour poured into her cheeks.

Tina was shaking with anger. ‘Get your things.’

‘I don’t have any things. Everything I owned was in a bag and I left it in the basement. Carlos was supposed to arrange for it to be brought up here so that I could change into dry clothes. Funnily enough, it never appeared.’ Evie scraped a strand of hair behind her ear with a hand that shook, afraid that this was going to be the moment that she finally lost it.

She felt tears scald the back of her eyes as she made a last-ditch attempt to extricate herself. ‘Carlos ordered me to sleep here last night, not that I expect any of you to believe me.’

‘Of course we don’t believe you!’ Tina exploded. ‘Why would the Manager of this hotel give a member of the housekeeping staff permission to spend the night in the Penthouse? A room that costs twelve thousand pounds a night.’

Evie paled. ‘How much? That’s outrageous.’

‘What’s outrageous is you standing there behaving like Lady Godiva. You need to find yourself another job, young lady. Since you’re so free with your body, I’m sure there are no end of options open to you if you’re seeking new employment,’ Tina snapped. ‘And don’t look so shocked. You’re standing there half naked, so this “I’m an innocent girl from the country” act is wearing a little thin. You may look wholesome, but I think we all know different. Why do you think I moved you off Reception? We had such a crowd around the desk, the hotel almost ground to a standstill.’

‘I was being friendly! You told me I was the public face of the hotel and I assumed you’d want that face to be smiling, not miserable! You’re so unfair—it’s Christmas and there’s not a single drop of Christmas spirit or compassion in any of you. And I’m naked because my clothes were wet, not because I want a career as a porn star.’

Tina pointed towards the door. ‘You’re fired. Get out.’

‘What, dressed like this?’ Evie gaped at her. ‘No way! This is the throw from the bed and I’m not giving you reason to sue me for theft on top of everything else, not to mention indecent exposure as I trail along the corridors. I think you’re all vile. None of this is my fault, but I’m going to be the one who suffers. I’ll get dressed and then I’ll leave and I hope you all have a really Happy Christmas!’ Thinking of her grandfather’s reaction when he saw the photograph of her naked and kissing a stranger, Evie gave a strangled moan and shot into the only room with a lock on the door.



Wholesome—

Rio stared at the locked door, his mind moving faster than the speed of sound as he swiftly formulated a plan that could turn this situation to his advantage.

Square-jawed, purple in the face, Tina turned to the security men with the purpose of an army commander preparing for a forward push. ‘She’s locked herself in. Open that door and escort her off the premises. We’ll do what we can to keep this out of the papers.’

Rio roused himself. Fired by the challenge, always at his best under pressure, he took control.

‘Out,’ he ordered harshly, striding towards the door of the suite and holding it open. ‘All of you. Now.’

They all looked at each other and Rio gave a smile that shifted the atmosphere from one of tension to one of terror.

‘Organise a staff meeting for one o’clock this afternoon.’ Like a laser-guided weapon locking on his target, he transferred his gaze to the security chief. ‘At that meeting I want the name of the person responsible for the fact that the security cameras in the street were pointing the wrong way. I want a report on how security at the hotel can be upgraded so that I have a guarantee that any intruder entering this building will be challenged within thirty seconds of entering the premises—’

‘But this is a hotel, sir; people come and go—’

‘If you’re not up to the job, just say so, and I’ll replace you with someone who is. My personal security team will assist you in preparing the report, if you wish to stay.’

Arnold quailed under that icy stare and Rio continued.

‘It’s your job to differentiate between guest, gawker and criminal. That’s the job I pay you to perform. And you—’ Rio shifted his gaze to Tina. ‘You’re fired.’

Tina gaped at him, her jaw slack, her unmade-up face an unflattering shade of scarlet. ‘You can’t just fire me—’

‘I own this hotel. I can do anything I like.’

‘You have no grounds—’

‘Bullying and staff intimidation are grounds enough in my book,’ Rio said coldly, ‘and that’s just the beginning. I have a full report on my desk, which includes recommendations on staffing. Your name appears on almost every page. Do you want me to go on?’

Tina gulped and opened her mouth but no sound came out.

Without a flicker of expression on his face, Rio opened the door wider. ‘That’s it,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You can go now. And on your way out ask someone to come and remove this Christmas tree. While I’m staying here, I don’t want to know it’s Christmas. Am I understood? No baubles, no berries, no tree, no tinsel.’

One by one, they shot past him and Tina paused, clearly panicking about her future. ‘What about Evelyn? She’s the cause of all this. She should be removed from the premises.’

Rio, who had been rapidly formulating a backup strategy since ‘whiter than white’ had exploded into the ether, sent her a look that had her scurrying out of the door.

Strolling back to the bathroom, he stared with brooding concentration at the closed door.

Wholesome.

The problem might just turn out to be the solution, he mused.

‘All right, Sleeping Beauty. I’ve slain your dragon. You can come out now.’




Chapter Three


He’d fired Tina!

With her ear pressed to the smooth wood of the door, Evie listened with her mouth open, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Afraid to make a sound in case he realised she’d been eavesdropping, she tiptoed away from the door and leaned her burning cheek against the cool marble wall of the bathroom, her knees weak and shaking.

He’d seen right through Tina and fired her on the spot. Obviously, the rumours about him being super-bright were true. All right, so he was ruthless and wasn’t afraid to axe jobs, but still—maybe he wasn’t so bad…

Still in shock, Evie let out a long breath. She felt as though she should feel sorry for Tina, but it was hard to feel sorry for someone who created an atmosphere of intimidation. She remembered the threats, both spoken and unspoken, the way she transformed confident staff into doubting, apologetic wrecks. Since her demotion to housekeeping, Evie had mopped up more tears than she had floors.

Had he heard the rumours? Was that what he’d meant by seeing Tina’s name on every page of his report?

Who else was on his list to be fired?

Realising that she had to be right at the top, Evie closed her eyes.

There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to be next and she didn’t even care any more. All she cared about was that stupid, horrid photograph. Perhaps she ought to ring Cedar Court and ask the staff to make sure that her grandfather didn’t see any newspapers or television.

But her grandfather loved his newspaper. He did the crossword every day.

If they banned it, he’d just want to know why.

Hyperventilating again, Evie clutched the edge of the washbasin and forced herself to breathe steadily.

She’d thought life couldn’t get much worse, but suddenly it was a million times more disastrous.

Her grandfather would panic if he knew she’d lost her job and had nowhere to live, but it was nothing to what he’d do when he saw pictures of her naked and kissing a stranger. She could just imagine what Mrs Fitzwilliam would make of that. I hear your precious little Evie has turned into a bit of a goer—

‘You have ten seconds to come out of that bathroom.’

The deep male voice held sufficient authority to confirm all Evie’s darkest suspicions about his intentions. He was obviously dealing with his problems with the brutal efficiency for which he was famed, and she was the next problem on his list. The worst was still to come.

She looked round desperately, searching for an escape. Apart from flushing herself down the toilet or trying to squeeze down the plughole, there was no way out of this bathroom.

Why, oh, why, had she taken up creepy Carlos’s suggestion of sleeping in the Penthouse? Why hadn’t she followed her initial instinct that it was a bad idea? And why had Rio Zaccarelli decided to arrive at the hotel early when the rest of London was asleep? The man obviously was a machine.

‘Two seconds—’ The hard, cold voice made her jump and Evie stared helplessly at the door, trying to think what to do. She needed a plan. She needed to think what she could say that might help her situation.

While she was in here, she was safe. What could he do? He was hardly going to break the door down, was he?

There was a tremendous crash, the sound of wood splintering and Evie screamed as the door crashed open, slamming against the sleek limestone wall of the luxurious bathroom.

Rio Zaccarelli stood in the doorway rubbing his shoulder. ‘What is the matter with the staff in this place? When I give you an order,’ he thundered, ‘I expect you to follow it. And I don’t expect to have to demolish my hotel so that I can hold a conversation with one of my employees.’

Stunned that the door was still on its hinges, Evie gulped. ‘I—you—are you OK? I mean—I’ve seen people crash through doors in the movies but I always assumed the door is made out of cardboard or something. I’ve never seen anyone actually do it with a real door. That must have hurt.’ She looked at his powerful shoulders doubtfully, wondering whether all that muscle would act as a barrier to pain.

‘Sì, it hurt.’ He rolled his shoulder experimentally, checking for damage. ‘Which is why, next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d just do as I say and open the damn door.’

Evie gave a choked laugh, clutching the silk throw against her. ‘Why? So that you can fire me in person?’

‘Who says I’m going to fire you?’

‘You fired the tyrannosaurus.’

‘Tyrannosaurus?’ Still rubbing his shoulder, he frowned, his expression dark and menacing. ‘I presume you’re talking about that officious woman with the unfortunate hair. That’s what you all call her?’

Evie froze. ‘No, of course not,’ she lied. ‘We call her Tina.’ Or meat-eater, because she feasted on hotel staff for breakfast.

‘She didn’t seem too impressed with you.’

‘No.’ It was impossible to argue with that. Utterly defeated, Evie felt the last dregs of spirit drain out of her. What was the point in defending herself? It was over. ‘I think it’s fair to say I don’t have an enormous number of supporters in high places.’ Tina had demoted her. Carlos had tried to grope her and, when she’d rejected him and humiliated him, he’d set her up.





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