Читать книгу The Billionaire's Christmas Cinderella - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

ABE.

Naomi knew exactly where she was the very second that she awoke, and her first thought was about last night.

It was as if, in the hours since they had said goodnight, Abe Devereux had not left her mind.

Of course, she had surely left his.

She had overslept and it was after nine. No doubt he was at work now and not even thinking of their lazy fireside conversation on her very first night in New York.

Naomi was, though.

She’d heard of the Devereuxes before Merida had met Ethan. She had worked with a prominent family in London who’d had dealings with them. Now that she thought on it, Abe’s name had been bandied about at the time. And not fondly. He was the gatekeeper to the Devereuxes. The one you had to get past if you wanted a deal to go through.

And when it came to women, his reputation had been equally formidable.

That was all she knew.

When she’d been trying to work out the dynamics of family, in order to best help her friend, Naomi had tended to skim past the articles on Abe.

Still, she recalled enough to know that that it wasn’t just a case of lock up your daughters when Abe Devereux was around.

Lock up your wife too.

And possibly the nanny!

He had no scruples, that much she knew.

Determined not to dwell on him, Naomi reached for her phone and looked at the weather forecast.

Snow, with more snow to come.

It would have been so much easier to lie under the covers for a while longer but Naomi was very used to forcing herself out of bed and did so today. Her hair she left down and didn’t worry about make-up. She rarely did. There wasn’t much point when working with babies. She decided on black jeans and a huge silver-grey jumper as well as black boots, which she pulled on while sitting on her bed. Naomi topped it all off with her less-than-substantial jacket. Before heading out she would add a woolly hat along with her scarf, but for now she carried them down the stairs and headed into the kitchen.

And then nearly dropped them when she saw Abe sitting on a breakfast stool, drinking coffee and reading on his tablet.

‘Morning.’ Barb smiled. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Very well,’ Naomi said. ‘In fact, I overslept.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ Barb said, and she glanced over at Abe, who didn’t look up. ‘You got a pizza in the night, I see. You could have called me for something to eat if you were hungry. Come and sit down and have some breakfast...’ And then she must have remembered that Naomi was actually a guest. ‘Or take a seat in the dining room and—’