Читать книгу Christmas Seduction - Кэтти Уильямс, Sarah Morgan, Cathy Williams - Страница 12

DRAGGING her aching limbs into the Penthouse suite, Evie toed off her shoes in relief and crumpled onto the rug. ‘How does anyone walk in these things?’ Staring up at the ceiling, she moved her toes gingerly. ‘I feel as though both my legs have been chewed by a shark.’

‘That is why you are lying on the floor?’ Rio paused in mid-text, his eyes bright with incredulity. ‘If you’re tired, lie on the sofa.’

‘I can’t make it that far. I may never walk again.’ Evie gave a long groan and flexed her sore feet. ‘I bet you’ve never tried to squash your feet into a torture device before. Who invented heels? The Spanish Inquisition?’

Rio pocketed his phone, scooped her up and deposited her on the sofa.

‘Oh—that’s better.’ Evie rolled on her side and closed her eyes, trying not to think about how his hands had felt on her skin. How strong he was.

‘Most women find shopping a pleasurable pastime.’

‘Yes, well, most women don’t have to buy an entire wardrobe after just three hours sleep, and most women aren’t shopping with you.’ Yawning, Evie snuggled into the soft pile of cushions, twisting and turning to find a comfortable position. ‘You said “no” so many times I thought that poor stylist person was going to throw herself out of the window. I thought the objective was to have a high visibility shopping trip, not give some innocent woman a nervous breakdown.’

‘I was trying to achieve a compromise between “wholesome” and “sexy”, which proved to be something of a challenge.’

‘Why do I have to look sexy?’

‘Because it’s important that you look like someone I’d date.’

Squashed flat by that comment, Evie curled up in a ball. ‘Do you have any idea how insulting you are? Once in a while you could think about my feelings, otherwise I’m going to dump you long before this farce is supposed to end. And it doesn’t really matter what the clothes look like, does it? It isn’t as if we’re going anywhere.’ She glanced round the Penthouse, taking in the luxury. Something seemed different about the place, but she couldn’t work out what. ‘You won’t even let me look out of the window in case someone takes my picture.’

‘Astonishingly enough, I am thinking of you. It’s precisely because we are going out that I expended all that time and effort in making sure you had an appropriate wardrobe,’ he gritted. ‘Tonight you’re going to be walking down that red carpet with film stars and celebrities—I didn’t want you to feel out of place.’

‘Red carpet? What red carpet?’ Evie shot upright. ‘You didn’t say anything about going out. I thought we were in hiding.’

‘We were creating gossip and speculation which, by tonight, will have spread sufficiently to ensure that if that photograph appears it will be taken as confirmation that we are seriously involved.’ Rio walked over to the desk and switched on his laptop. ‘We have to be seen out together which, unfortunately, means that tonight we have to attend a film premiere and a charity ball.’

‘Unfortunately? It’s unfortunate that we have to attend a film premiere and a charity ball?’ Assuming he was joking, Evie started to laugh and then she saw the tension in his shoulders and the grim expression on his handsome face and realised that he was serious. He didn’t want to go.

Her sudden excitement evaporated and she deflated like a balloon at a children’s party. Her brain scanned all the possible reasons for his dark, forbidding scowl. ‘You don’t want to be seen with me.’

‘Obviously I do,’ he said tightly, ‘given that it is the entire purpose of going.’

Evie sat with her back stiff, picking at her fingernails, telling herself that it was ridiculous to feel hurt by that comment. ‘I understand that you feel you have to do it. But the reason you don’t want to go is because you’re embarrassed to be seen out with me.’

‘I don’t want to go because I’m incredibly busy at the moment.’

Something about the way he held himself told her that he was lying. Whatever was wrong, it had nothing to do with his workload. ‘But we’re going anyway?’

‘Yes. We’ll show our faces and then leave.’ With a single tap of his finger, he brought a spreadsheet up on the screen. ‘Wear the silver dress.’

Shimmering silver, Evie thought absently. With swept-up hair.

She should have felt thrilled but instead she felt the most crushing disappointment. ‘What’s the point of making a fuss if we’re only going to stay five minutes?’ The fact that he wasn’t even looking at her increased her anger. ‘It’s hardly worth getting dressed, is it?’

‘A brief visit is perfectly normal at these things. There is no point in wasting a whole evening when our purpose can be achieved in a short space of time.’

There was a tension in the room that she didn’t understand. ‘What if your purpose is to enjoy yourself?’

He was frowning at the screen. ‘We’re talking about a throng of people, none of whom have the slightest interest in anyone but themselves and their own self-advancement. As it happens, I have a very specific reason for going to this particular ball—I need to speak to Vladimir Yartsev.’

‘Who is he?’

‘Don’t you read newspapers?’

Evie flushed. ‘Sometimes. When I’m not working.’

‘Vladimir Yartsev is a Russian oil oligarch. A very powerful man.’

‘But not as powerful as you.’

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. ‘Different power.’

Evie curled her legs underneath her. ‘Alternative energy. Like fossil fuels versus a wind farm.’ Looking at the thin line of his mouth, she sighed. ‘Sorry. I forgot you don’t have a sense of humour. So this guy is going to be sitting at our table? I presume you want me to be extra-nice to him?’

‘That won’t be possible. He doesn’t speak much English and I doubt his interpreter will be there.’ Rio altered one of the figures on the spreadsheet. ‘I’m sure if you smile at him it won’t do any harm.’

His comment was so derogatory that she almost thumped him.

He made assumptions about people. Evie watched him, knowing that she was going to have the last laugh on this particular point. ‘I won’t need an interpreter. I’m good at communicating with people.’ She was purposely vague. ‘So you’re hoping to meet up with this Vladimir guy—who else? Doesn’t anyone just go to have fun?’

‘They go to be seen. And at a charity ball they go to be seen spending money. It’s a game. I go because there are a few contacts I need to make. I have no doubt it will be boring.’

‘Thanks. So basically you’re saying that not only do I not look right, but I bore you. I can see we’re in for a great evening.’

‘I was talking about the other guests—’ his tone was thickened with exasperation ‘—but carry on like this and I’ll add you to the list. I’ve already told you—the reason I don’t stay long is because I can’t afford the time. I have work to do.’

All he did was work.

But he was taking her to a charity ball and a film premiere.

Evie felt a renewed flutter of excitement at the prospect of playing Cinderella for a night. ‘So we’re showing our faces at two events—but you have invites to loads more than that?’

‘I have seven invitations for this evening. I’ve picked the two most high profile.’ Showing no interest whatsoever in that fact, Rio focused on the screen. ‘Normally, a hostess would do her utmost to avoid a clash, but this is Christmas so it’s inevitable.’

Christmas.

Suddenly Evie realised what was different about the room. ‘Someone’s taken down all my decorations.’ Horrified, she sprang to her feet and glanced around her. ‘The tree has gone. And the holly—why would they have done that?’

‘Because I gave instructions that all the decorations should be removed.’

Already bruised from his previous comments, it was hard to keep her voice steady. ‘You didn’t like the decorations?’

‘No.’

She felt numb. ‘I took ages getting them exactly right. I thought you’d be pleased—’

‘I wasn’t pleased.’

So she looked wrong, she was boring, and now he was saying she was useless at her job. It was the final straw.

Rio glanced up. ‘While I’m staying here, I don’t want to know it’s Christmas.’ His eyes were molten black and menacing. ‘I don’t want to see a single decoration. Is that clear?’

‘Yes. It’s perfectly clear.’ Her voice high-pitched; deeply offended that he’d criticised her work, Evie stalked into the bedroom, yanking the doors closed behind her.

Her confidence in shreds, she leaned back against the doors.

Miserable, horrible, vile man.

Chemistry? Yes, there was chemistry—but she wished it was the sort that would result in some sort of explosive reaction that would blast him out of her life. He made her feel small. He made her feel useless and insignificant. Apparently she couldn’t even decorate a Christmas tree to his satisfaction.

She stood for a moment, breathing deeply, horribly hurt by his dismissive comments. In a few sentences he’d shredded her fragile self-confidence.

With a sniff, she tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. Why should she care what he thought? So he hated her decorations. So what? The man was a cold hearted workaholic.

Fancy going to all this trouble just so that he didn’t lose out on a stupid business deal.

He made Scrooge look like a cheerleader.

What sort of man would rather work than enjoy a night at a glittering Christmas ball? Did he think his entire business was going to fall apart or something?

Trying not to be hurt by the fact that he clearly wanted to spend as little time as possible in her company, Evie wrenched off the jacket that went with her ‘wholesome’ dress and flung it over the nearest chair.

Feeling miserable and unappreciated, she undressed and slipped under the covers, wanting to blot out her unhappiness with a much needed afternoon nap. As she closed her eyes she reminded herself that she was doing this so that her grandfather wouldn’t be hurt and embarrassed. No other reason.

Once all the fuss had died down, she’d give Rio Zaccarelli the boot. Or should that be ‘the stiletto’?

Either way, she was seriously looking forward to that day.

Rio fastened the sleeves of his dress shirt. Normally he relished the challenge of a difficult situation. On this occasion the stakes were too high to make the whole issue anything other than stressful. Adding an evening of Christmas celebrations into that mix simply increased the stress.

Get it over with.

There was no sound of activity from the bedroom and Rio wondered whether he should have checked on Evie. She’d been in there all day and they were supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes. Was she still asleep?

Or was she still sulking over the Christmas decorations?

He was just walking towards the bedroom doors when they opened suddenly.

‘Don’t say a word. Not a word.’ A dangerous glint in her blue eyes, she stalked barefoot across the carpet. A pair of silver shoes dangled from her fingers. ‘Every time you open your mouth you say something nasty so, unless red eyes are the latest “must have” accessory on the celebrity circuit, then it’s safer if you say nothing.’

Rio was pleased she’d instructed him to say nothing because, for once, the power of speech appeared to have deserted him. He’d been present when she’d tried on the dress—he’d approved it—but clearly he hadn’t devoted his full attention to the task because he had no memory of it looking quite this good. Or maybe it was because he’d seen the dress in daylight and it was definitely designed to dazzle at night.

The fabric sparkled with every turn of her body and the effect was incredible—it was as if she were illuminated, each sensuous curve lit up and accentuated by the shimmering fabric. Her hair she’d scooped up and secured to the back of her head with silver clips, the slightly haphazard style both kooky and sexy.

‘You look incredible.’

‘Wholesome?’

He ignored the sarcasm in her tone. ‘Sexy and wholesome. It’s an intriguing combination. It would look even more effective if you could stop glaring at me.’

‘I’ll stop glaring at you when we’re in public.’ She was as prickly as a porcupine. ‘Our deal doesn’t include having to like each other, does it?’

Rio clenched his jaw. ‘If I offended you, then I apologise.’

‘If? There is no if, Rio. Of course you offended me! You criticised my work and then you criticised me. You’re trying to turn me into a clone of the type of woman you date and then you get irritated when I’m not doing things right.’

‘That isn’t true, but—’

‘No!’ She lifted her hand like a policeman stopping traffic. ‘Don’t say anything else. You’re incapable of speaking without being offensive.’

Unaccustomed to having to work so hard with a woman, Rio drew in a long, slow breath. ‘It’s snowing outside and that dress has no back to it. You’ll need something to keep you warm—’ He handed her a large flat box and she looked at him suspiciously before taking it with a frown.

‘Now what? A cloak with a hood so that you can cover my face? A—oh—’ she gasped, and then her face lost its colour and she dropped the box containing the snowy-white fur onto the carpet. ‘I can’t wear that. I won’t wear fur.’

‘It isn’t real.’ Wondering whether every interaction was going to result in confrontation, Rio stooped and retrieved it. ‘It’s fake.’

Evie stood with her hands behind her back. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Positive.’ He draped it around her shoulders. Her skin was warm and smooth against the backs of his fingers and he felt the immediate flash of chemistry. Her breathing was shallow and fast and for a moment she stood rigid, a faint bloom of colour lifting the pallor of her cheeks.

‘Is that what you do when you offend someone? You buy them an extravagant gift rather than say sorry? Does it work?’

‘You tell me. Your hair looks amazing against the white fur.’ He saw the pulse beating in her throat and knew that she was feeling exactly what he was feeling.

‘Don’t think that just because I’m wearing this, I’ve forgiven you. I can’t be bought.’

A woman who couldn’t be bought.

Rio gave a faint smile at that concept.

‘It does feel gorgeous against bare skin.’ She wriggled her shoulders in an unconsciously seductive movement that sent his libido into overdrive.

Incredibly aroused, he drew her against him. ‘You could remove the dress,’ he suggested silkily, ‘and just wear the fur.’ Even without touching his fingers to her wrist, he knew her pulse was racing and Rio saw something in her eyes seconds before she looked away. Desire. Programmed to identify that look, he was about to suggest that the fur would be comfortable to lie on, when she shoved at his chest.

‘You just can’t help yourself, can you? We’re supposed to be stopping the photo looking sleazy and all you want to do is stay in and make the whole situation even tackier. Or is this deal suddenly not important to you?’

Rio froze, horrified by the realisation that for a few precious seconds his mind had been wiped of every thought except for one and that was the erotic possibilities of fur against Evie’s pale skin. ‘You’re right. Let’s go.’ Seriously disconcerted by the fact that she was so together while he was locked in the savage grip of rampaging hormones, he faced the lowering fact that, had she not stopped him, he would have tumbled her onto the rug in front of the fire and followed his instincts with no thought for anything except the demands of his own super-sized libido.

Exasperated with himself and seriously unsettled, Rio snagged his jacket from the back of the chair and urged her towards the elevator. ‘The premiere starts in about fifteen minutes.’

‘Great. So we’ll be last.’

‘That was the intention.’ He pressed the button for the ground floor. ‘We show ourselves in public when the crowd is at its maximum.’

‘Why not? If I’m going to humiliate myself, it might as well be in a big way.’

Evie walked gingerly up the red carpet, relieved that the silver shoes were so much more comfortable than the red ones, her fingers gripping tightly to Rio’s rock-hard biceps. Despite the falling snow, there was a huge crowd waiting in the hope of seeing the stars and Evie felt like a fraud as she heard the cheering.

‘They’re going to feel short-changed when they see me. What am I supposed to do?’ She hissed the words between her teeth, her smile never faltering as what felt like a million camera lenses were pointed in her direction. ‘Do I flash the ring? Do I look at you adoringly?’

‘Just act normally.’

Evie felt a rush of exasperation that he had so little idea how she felt. ‘I don’t normally walk along red carpets in high heels pretending to be engaged to a very rich man I barely know. Some help here would be appreciated.’

‘I’m by your side. That’s all the help you need.’ He paused to talk to a couple who seemed vaguely familiar. Relieved to see at least two friendly faces and trying to work out where she knew them from, Evie smiled and chatted, finding them surprisingly approachable. She definitely knew them from somewhere.

As Rio led her away into the foyer, she was still smiling. ‘They were nice. I know I’ve met them before somewhere—I can’t think where—I don’t know that many people in London. Do they work at the hotel? What are their names?’

When he told her, she stared at him in mortified silence. ‘Right. Both of them Hollywood stars. The reason I know their faces is because I’ve seen them both in the movies. Now I’m embarrassed. Oh, my God—they must have wondered why I was grinning at them like an idiot.’

‘You were charming and not at all star-struck. And you didn’t ask for their autograph, which is always refreshing.’

‘That’s because I didn’t actually recognise them.’ Evie tightened her grip on his arm. ‘Do you think they realised? What if I offended them?’

‘They enjoyed talking to you and the fact that you were so natural with them suggests that our relationship is an already accepted fact in some circles. You did well. There’s no need to make holes in my arm.’

Evie slackened her grip. Determined not to make the same mistake again, she spent the next ten minutes glancing furtively around her, trying to put faces to names. The foyer was crammed with glamorous people, all of whom seemed completely comfortable in their equally glamorous surroundings. They looked like elegant swans, she thought gloomily, whereas she—she felt like an emu. Tall, conspicuous and horribly out of place amongst so many delicate, beautiful birds.

Watching her face, Rio sighed. ‘You look as though you’re about to visit the dentist. Try and relax.’

Finding the mingling in the foyer desperately stressful, Evie was relieved when they moved into the cinema for the showing of the film. Her spirits lifted still further when she discovered that it was a Christmas movie.

More comfortable in the dark, she slipped off her shoes and settled down in her seat, looking forward to a couple of hours of seasonal entertainment. Watching elves dance across the screen, she was just starting to feel Christmassy when she became aware that Rio was emailing someone on his BlackBerry.

‘You’re supposed to switch off your mobile.’ The moment she said the words she realised how stupid she sounded. This wasn’t a commercial showing. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the other guests had been vying with each other in an attempt to exchange a few words with him. It was obvious that he was the most powerful, influential guest here. Who was going to tell him off?

Trying to block out the distracting sight of him ploughing through endless emails, Evie turned her attention back to the screen and soon she was lost in the film, sighing wistfully as Santa started putting presents in his sack. ‘This is a lovely story,’ she said dreamily, ‘you really ought to watch it. It might help put you in the Christmas mood.’

The change in him was instantaneous.

Sliding his BlackBerry into the pocket of his dinner jacket, Rio rose to his feet in a purposeful movement, indifferent to the people around him trying to enjoy the film. ‘Put your shoes back on. We’re going.’ Barely giving her time to slide her toes back into the silver shoes, Rio grabbed her hand and led her out of a door at the rear of the cinema.

‘They’re all looking at us—this is so embarrassing.’ Breathless, Evie tried to keep up without twisting her ankle. ‘Why are we leaving? I was enjoying myself.’

‘I wasn’t.’ Talking into his phone again, he pushed open a fire door and Evie saw his limousine parked right outside.

‘But I only watched about twenty minutes!’

‘And that was twenty minutes too long. I can’t stand sappy Christmas movies.’

‘It hadn’t even got going. Santa was about to be set upon by the bad guys determined to ruin Christmas,’ Evie gasped, bending her head as he bundled her inside the car. ‘Thanks to you, I won’t ever find out how it ended.’

‘How do you think it ended?’ His handsome face was a mask of frustration and tension. ‘Happily, of course. It’s a Christmas movie. They only ever end happily.’

‘I know it ended happily but I wanted to know how it ended happily. There’s more than one route to a happy ending, you know. It’s how they do the happy ending that makes it worth watching.’

He shot her a look of exasperation before turning his attention back to the screen of his BlackBerry. ‘I would have thought you were too old to believe in happy endings—’ he scanned, deleted, emailed ‘—especially after your recent experience.’

‘Just because you haven’t encountered a happy ending personally doesn’t mean you stop believing in them.’

‘If you go through life waiting for a happy ending then you’re setting yourself up for permanent disappointment. If you’re really that deluded then it’s no wonder that you’re currently single. No man could hope to live up to your ridiculously high levels of idealism. I almost feel sorry for Jeff.’

Digesting that cynical take on her approach to life, Evie stiffened. ‘I gather you don’t believe in happy endings. Just don’t tell me that you don’t believe in Santa or you’ll completely ruin my evening.’ Intercepting his incredulous glance, she gave him a mocking smile. ‘You don’t believe in Santa? Careful. If you don’t believe, he won’t come.’

Shaking his head in despair, Rio turned his head to look out of the window. ‘How do you survive in the real world? I thought women like you were extinct.’

‘There are some of us still flourishing in the wild.’ Evie leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. ‘But we’re an endangered species. We have to keep our distance from cynics like you who appear to have lost all hope, otherwise we become contaminated.’

‘What are you hoping for?’

She kept her eyes firmly shut. There was no way he’d understand and he’d just laugh at her. ‘Oh, this and that—the usual sort of stuff.’

‘The usual sort of stuff being love, kids and marriage.’

‘Go on—laugh. Just because I have my priorities right and all you think about is deals.’

‘Trust me—there is nothing about love, marriage or kids that makes me want to laugh.’

‘And half the world feels the same way as you.’ Evie opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. ‘But I don’t.’

‘Why not? You were dumped six weeks ago.’

‘I know.’

‘You should be bitter and cynical.’

‘How does that help?’

‘It stops you having unrealistic expectations.’

‘Or perhaps it stops you spotting love when you find it.’ Evie adjusted her dress to stop it creasing. ‘My grandparents were together for sixty years. I refuse to believe it isn’t possible. Finding someone you can love and who loves you back might be rare, but it’s not impossible.’

Rio’s handsome face was devoid of expression.

Staring into his dark eyes, Evie felt the heat build in her body. ‘It’s probably different for you,’ she said lamely. ‘You’re rich. Relationships must be even more complicated when you’re incredibly wealthy.’

‘You’ve already given me your opinion on the influence of wealth on personal relationships. Clearly you think no woman would entertain the idea of a relationship with me if I weren’t wealthy.’

‘I didn’t say that. I’m sure there are women out there who like cynical men.’ She told herself firmly that she wasn’t one of them but, even as she gave herself a lecture, she was noticing the blue-black shadow of his hard jaw and the undeniably sexy curve of his mouth. Struggling hard not to think about sex, kissing or anything that required physical contact, Evie tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘If you haven’t written your letter to Santa, how do you expect him to know what you’d like?’

‘Are you intentionally winding me up?’

‘Yes. Is it working?’

‘Yes.’ A glimmer of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Evie’s limbs weakened because he was even more gorgeous when he smiled and because she knew exactly what he could do with that mouth. And she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She squirmed with awareness, furious with herself for being such a pushover. Rich, powerful guy—adoring girl. It was an embarrassing cliché.

As if—

‘If I’m going along with this plan of yours,’ she said quickly, ‘there is one other thing I want at the end of it.’

‘You can’t renegotiate terms once they’re agreed,’ he said silkily, but Evie lifted her chin, refusing to let him intimidate her.

‘I want a job when this is over. And, to be honest, that will look better for you, too. If I’m going to dump you and people find out I’ve lost my job they’ll just assume you’re petty and small-minded and you wouldn’t want that.’

‘Thanks for protecting my image.’ His eyes gleamed with sardonic mockery. ‘Do you have a particular job in mind? Santa’s cheerleader?’

‘I was employed to work on Reception,’ Evie said firmly, ‘and that’s what I want to do. I was good at it.’

‘So, if you were employed to work on Reception, why were you working as a housekeeper when I arrived in the early hours this morning?’

‘Because Tina demoted me. She said I talked too much.’ Evie’s eyes flashed defensively. ‘But I don’t see how you can talk too much as a receptionist. I was making people feel welcome. That’s the job my grandfather thinks I’m doing, and that’s the job I want when I finally dump you.’

‘All right.’

Evie gulped. ‘All right? You’re saying yes? I can have my job as receptionist back?’

‘I’m saying yes,’ he drawled softly, ‘although, if you’re missing your grandfather that much, it strikes me you might be better taking a job closer to home.’

‘There isn’t anything. I tried that. No one needs my skills. What will happen to Carlos?’

‘I have no idea.’ Rio pressed a button by his seat and a panel opened. ‘Do you drink champagne?’

Evie didn’t want to admit she’d never tasted it. ‘Of course.’

He withdrew a bottle from the fridge, popped the cork and poured the bubbling liquid into two tall slender-stemmed glasses. ‘To our deal.’

Evie sipped from the glass he handed her and choked as the bubbles flew up her nose. ‘Oh—that’s—’ she coughed ‘—yummy.’ She took another mouthful. ‘Happy Christmas. How long do we have to keep this up? When will you know if you’ve rescued your deal?’

He looked out of the window. ‘We’ve arrived.’

And he hadn’t answered her question.

Wondering once again what it was about this particular deal that was so important, Evie followed his gaze and gasped. ‘We’re at the Natural History Museum.’ The famous building was illuminated against the winter night and thousands of tiny sparkling lights had been threaded through the branches of the trees. In front of the building was an ice rink and the whole place had been transformed into a winter paradise. ‘I had no idea they held events here.’

‘This is a very prestigious fund-raiser.’

‘Can we ice skate?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘But it’s snowing.’ Evie leaned forward, captivated by the atmosphere. ‘It would be magical. Do you think we’ll have a white Christmas?’

‘I couldn’t care less. Do you want an umbrella?’

‘You don’t like snow? Seriously?’

‘It’s useful when I’m skiing. The rest of the time it’s an inconvenience.’

‘When did you last make a snowman or throw a snowball?’

Rio frowned. ‘We need to get out of the car, Evie.’

Evie didn’t budge. ‘You don’t write to Santa, you hate decorations, you don’t like snow, you won’t ice skate—there must be something you like about Christmas. Turkey? Meeting up with friends? What’s the best thing about Christmas for you?’

The door was opened by his security chief and a blast of cold air entered the car.

Rio stared at her for a long moment, his face unsmiling. ‘The best thing about Christmas for me is when it’s over,’ he gritted. ‘Now, get out of the car and smile.’

‘So the rumours are true, Rio? You’re engaged? You do realise you’ve just ruined every single woman’s Christmas, and half the married ones, too?’ Tabitha Fenton-Coyle stroked her long red fingernails over his sleeve. ‘Tell me what it is about her that induced a hardened cynic like yourself into marriage.’

‘You need to ask?’

‘Well, she’s pretty, of course, in a slightly unsophisticated way that a man might find appealing—’ There was a flinty glint in Tabitha’s eyes and Rio turned his head and noticed Evie laughing uninhibitedly with the two Russian billionaires, both known for their arrogant refusal to speak English at social events. They were taciturn, remote and notoriously unapproachable and yet both appeared to be listening to Evie with rapt attention.

How was she making herself understood?

From across the table, Rio tried to hear what she was saying. She was chatting non-stop, her hands moving as she illustrated her point. Occasionally she paused to sip champagne or listen to their response.

‘Clever of you to find a woman who speaks Russian,’ Tabitha said, ‘given your business interests in that country. Is that how you met? Is she an interpreter or something?’

Evie spoke Russian?

Unable to hear her above the noise from the surrounding tables, Rio focused his gaze on her lips and realised that she was indeed speaking Russian.

His hostess was watching him. ‘You didn’t know, did you? Well, if she can persuade them to open their wallets when the charity auction begins, then she’ll certainly get my vote.’

Where had Evie learned to speak Russian?

Why hadn’t she mentioned it when he’d told her that Vladimir didn’t speak good English and that she wouldn’t be able to communicate without an interpreter? And then he remembered her responding that she wouldn’t need an interpreter. At the time he’d assumed she’d meant that she’d be using sign language and lots of smiles—not once had it occurred to him that she spoke fluent Russian.

Coffee was served as the auction began and there was a sudden flurry of movement as people swapped seats.

Her cheeks pink with excitement, Evie swayed to her feet and found her way to the seat next to him. ‘I’m having such a nice time. Those men are so sweet. You should have mentioned how funny they were.’

Rio tightened his grip on the glass. ‘Just as you should possibly have mentioned the fact that you’re fluent in Russian.’

‘You were being arrogant and I thought it would be more fun to just surprise you. I thought it might teach you not to underestimate people.’ Craning her neck, she looked over his shoulder towards the stage and the dance floor. ‘What’s happening now?’

Rio fingered the stem of his glass. ‘I do not underestimate people.’

‘Yes, you do. But you probably can’t help it,’ she said kindly. ‘Is there going to be dancing?’

‘It’s the auction first. The bidding will raise money for the charity.’ Rio was still watching her. ‘Do you speak any other languages?’

‘French, Spanish and Mandarin. So am I allowed to bid for something?’

‘You speak four languages?’

‘Five, if you count English. How much am I allowed to bid?’

‘You don’t speak Italian?’

‘No.’ She helped herself to a chocolate from the plate. ‘That CD was always out of the library whenever I looked.’

Rio shot her an incredulous look. ‘You taught yourself all those languages?’

‘I’m good at languages. I taught myself the basics and then there was a teacher at school who helped me and I had a friend who spoke Mandarin and Russian.’ She was looking across the room. ‘Don’t look now but there’s a huge Christmas tree next to the stage—you’d better close your eyes or it will probably give you a nervous breakdown. I’m surprised you didn’t phone ahead and ask them to remove it.’

Still absorbing the fact that she spoke five languages, Rio dragged his gaze to the stage and saw the Christmas tree. She was right; it was huge—a massive symbol of the unspeakable horrors of his childhood. There was a rushing sound in his ears and suddenly the voices around him seemed far away. Instead of staring at glittering baubles, he was staring into a deep, dark black hole. Memories formed pictures in his brain, taking on shapes he didn’t want to see, like a gruesome kaleidoscope. That hideous morning. The discovery he’d made. The shock. And the emptiness.

Suddenly every sparkle in the room seemed to intensify the dark feelings swirling in his brain. Every silver star and rope of tinsel was a silent mockery.

Promising himself that they’d leave as soon as the auction was over, Rio sat still, ruthlessly wrestling his feelings back under control.

From inside a fog of unwelcome memories, he was dimly aware of Evie leaning across the table, coaxing the Russians into bidding enormous sums of money in the charity auction. Even Tabitha was looking impressed as Evie switched between Russian and English, extracting more money from the billionaires than they’d sucked oil from the Caspian Sea.

If the circumstances had been different, Rio would have laughed. As it was, he just wanted to leave.

They’d been seen together. The ring had been photographed. Rumours were spreading.

It was done.

Rio watched with a frown as Tabitha made sure that Evie’s glass was kept topped up. She was drinking the champagne as if it were soda, and he realised that if he didn’t remove her from this table quickly she was going to be drunk.

As the auction ended and a band started warming up on the stage, Rio drained his glass and turned to Evie.

‘We’re leaving.’

‘No way! Not this time. I missed almost all of the film—I’m not missing the rest of the ball. The dancing hasn’t started yet.’ She started to sway in her seat in time to the music while Tabitha looked on with a mixture of condescension and amusement.

‘If you can persuade Rio to dance with you, then I’m willing to believe he’s in love. I’ve never known him to dance. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he didn’t have rhythm.’ She gave Rio a knowing look and he saw Evie’s happy smile falter as she digested the meaning behind those words.

Rio cursed silently.

She might be tipsy, but she wasn’t so under the influence that she didn’t recognise a barb when it was poked into her flesh.

Removing the champagne glass from her hand, he dragged her to her feet. ‘You’re right—we’ll dance.’ Without giving himself time to think about it, he led her onto the dance floor and slid his arm around her waist. ‘Smile.’

‘What is there to smile about? She’s flaunting the fact she’s had sex with you. She’s vile. And you have no taste. No wonder you’ve never wanted to settle down with anyone if she’s the sort of person you’ve been seeing.’

‘I have not had sex with her,’ Rio breathed, bending his head so that he spoke the words in her ear and couldn’t be overheard. Immediately, her perfume wound itself round his senses. ‘She was trying to cause trouble. Trying to hurt you. Don’t let her. You’re just over-emotional because you’ve had too much champagne. Now smile, because the whole purpose of tonight is to convince people our relationship is real.’

‘Well, if this relationship were real, I would have punched her. And I’m not over-emotional, I’m justifiably emotional. That woman is a man-eater. She ought to be fenced in on a game reserve. Do you know that she’s on her fourth husband? Evgeni and Vladimir told me that she only marries them for their money.’

Rio’s tension levels rocketed up several more notches. ‘You’re on first name terms with the Russians?’

‘I sat with them all evening, what did you expect? When I saw that awful Tabitha woman had separated us I almost had a heart attack. She put me there thinking I’d struggle, didn’t she? She was trying to be unkind.’

Rio gave a faint smile. ‘I think you won that round.’

‘They told me that she takes men to the cleaners and lives off the settlement.’

‘It’s a popular career choice in certain circles.’

‘Well, I think it’s awful. No amount of money would make up for being married to someone I didn’t love.’ Evie slid her arms around his neck, her eyes slightly bleary. ‘I mean, actually, when you think about it, that’s not so far from prostitution, is it?’

Conscious of the shocked glances from those nearest to them, Rio smiled. ‘Absolutely right,’ he purred, vastly entertained by how outspoken she became when she’d had a few glasses of champagne. ‘You might want to lower your voice before you cast any more aspersions on the character and profession of our illustrious hostess.’

Evie gulped. ‘Oops. Do you think they heard me?’

‘Definitely. They’re doubtless all now engrossed in a fascinating debate as to whether our hostess is a prostitute or not.’

Evie leaned her forehead against his chest. ‘Sorry. I may have drunk just a little bit too much champagne—I’ve never had it before and it’s delicious.’

‘You’ve never had champagne before?’

‘Never. Last year, Grandpa and I treated ourselves to a bottle of Prosecco but it wasn’t the same.’

Rio winced. ‘No. It definitely isn’t the same. Prosecco is excellent in a Bellini but it’s not champagne.’ He lifted his hand and removed a strand of fiery red hair that had somehow managed to tangle itself around his bow tie. ‘I think I’d better take you home.’

‘I don’t want to go home. I want to dance. Anyway, I like it here and we’re supposed to be seen.’ Still clinging to him tightly, she swayed in time to the music and then looked up with a smile as everyone started singing The Twelve Days of Christmas.

‘Oh, I love this. This used to be my party piece at school. I do all the actions. Wait till you see my Seven swans a-swimming—’

Rio inhaled deeply. ‘Evie—’ But she was already lifting her hands like a conductor, waving her arms and singing at the top of her voice along with everyone else.

‘—partridge in a pear tree—’

‘I’m taking you home.’

‘No.’ She dug her heels in like a stubborn horse. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ve never been to a party as amazing as this one. I don’t want it to end.’

Rio gritted his teeth. ‘We have two more to attend tomorrow. And this time I won’t make the mistake of giving you champagne beforehand.’

‘I don’t care about tomorrow. I want to live for today. I like this party.’ She slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, her breath warm against his neck. ‘Please, Rio, dance with me. You know you want to.’

He locked his fingers around her wrists, intending to remove her arms, but then she smiled up at him and he found himself so captivated by that smile that instead of removing her arms, he slid his hands down her warm skin. Her back was bare, her skin warm and smooth and tempting and raw lust shot through him. Without thinking about what he was doing, Rio lowered his mouth towards hers.

‘Four calling birds, three French hens—’

Rio froze as she started to sing again. ‘Evie—’

‘Two turtle doves, and a—’

‘Evie!’ Rio felt tension prickle down his spine.

‘I like singing. If you want me to stop singing, you’re going to have to gag me.’

‘Good idea.’ Rio closed the distance and captured her mouth with his. The chemistry was instantaneous and explosive. Because he had his hand on her bare back he could feel the tremors that shook her and he welded her closer to him, ignoring the curious looks of those around him.

After two of the most intoxicating, arousing, exciting minutes of his life, he lifted his head fractionally and tried to regain his balance. The kiss had done nothing except make him crave more. He wanted to touch and taste—he wanted to bury his face in her hair and feast on her body.

Around them, everyone was still singing but this time Evie wasn’t joining in.

‘When you kiss me, I don’t ever want it to stop,’ she murmured, her eyes slightly glazed. ‘It feels incredible. Are you as good at everything else? If so, then it’s no wonder every woman in the room is looking at me as if they hate me. They think we’re having mad, crazy sex all the time. I wish. Maybe we should. It seems a shame to disappoint everyone.’

He cupped her face in his hands and stared down at her in exasperation. ‘You’re plastered. It’s time I took you home.’

‘I’m not plastered. And I don’t want to go home. I’m having a really great time and I refuse to go home just so that you can weld yourself to your laptop again and ignore the fact it’s Christmas. Kissing you, drinking champagne, dancing and singing—they’re my favourite things. Honestly, Rio, you should sing too—it’s fun—I’m feeling so Christmassy—’ Her hips swayed and there was a huge smile on her face as she started to sing along again, joining in with the crowd, this time at double the volume—

When it came to ‘Five gold rings’ she sang even louder, struck a dramatic pose and flashed her diamond in the air, beaming at Rio.

Before he could stop her, she flung herself towards the two Russians, kissed each of them on the cheek and then sprang onto a chair and from there onto the table.

Rio closed his eyes, cursing himself for not monitoring her champagne intake more closely. He contemplated removing her bodily but decided that she would probably make such a fuss that the best thing to do was to wait until the end of the song and hope she survived that long without falling off the table and doing herself serious injury.

Everyone was clapping and Evie was by now the centre of attention as she led the singing, her actions for Seven swans a-swimming causing such hilarity that Rio shook his head in disbelief.

‘She’s certainly the life and soul of the party,’ Vladimir was suddenly beside him, speaking in slow, broken English, and beaming up at Evie, who was still mimicking a swan. ‘That joint venture you wanted to explore in Moscow—we’re willing to give it some consideration. Fly over in the New Year and meet with us. Evie can translate for you.’

Rio, who had given up on the usually taciturn Russians, was about to confirm the details when an overenthusiastic re-enactment of ‘Three French hens’ almost sent Evie spinning off the table.

‘Scusi—’ Crossing to the table, he caught Evie as she lost her balance and she tumbled into his arms, the silver dress shimmering under the lights.

‘—Two purple doves,’ she hollered, ‘and a partridge in a pear tree.’

Wild applause surrounded them and Rio winced. ‘That’s your party piece?’

‘One of them. I also tell a great joke about a wide mouth toad which has brilliant actions.’ She eyed the microphone on the stage. ‘I suppose I could—’

‘No,’ Rio said hastily. ‘You most definitely could not.’

‘I love champagne,’ she said happily, leaning her head against his shoulder. ‘It’s the nicest, yummiest, fizziest, happiest drink I’ve ever tasted. Is there any more?’

‘It’s run out. You drank it all. Thanks to you, the global champagne market is now in meltdown.’

‘Shame.’ She buried her face in his neck and breathed deeply. ‘You smell so good. Why do you smell so good? Will you kiss me again? And this time don’t stop. The only thing I hate about kissing you is when you stop. I just want it to go on and on and on—could you do that, do you think? You did say you were good at multi-tasking.’

Rio tensed. ‘Evie—’

‘You’re an incredibly sexy man. If I wasn’t so afraid of being rejected again, I’d try and seduce you—’ she was snuggling and kissing his neck at the same time ‘—but I’ve never seduced anyone before so it’s probably a bit overambitious to start with you. Like climbing a mountain and deciding to start with Everest. I ought to practice on someone small, ugly and unsuccessful first and see how I get on.’

Rio felt his entire body tighten. ‘You won’t be practising on anyone tonight. We’re going home.’

‘Not without a present from the Christmas tree,’ she coaxed, lifting her head and focusing with difficulty. ‘It’s all in a good cause. You pay money and they give you a surprise present. The money goes to the kids. So it’s sort of two presents in one. Three presents actually, because you get a warm fuzzy feeling from being generous.’

Deciding that it was going to be quicker to buy the present than argue, Rio strode towards the tree, Evie still in his arms. Around them, people were smiling indulgently.

His pulse rate doubled as he approached the tree. The smell of pine invaded his nostrils, awakening thoughts and memories long dormant.

‘Which present?’ he growled, adjusting the angle of his body so that she could see the tree and he couldn’t. ‘Tell me which one you want.’ Quickly. So that he could make his escape. The past was rolling over him like a dark cloud, its creeping menace threatening to seep under the barriers of his self-control.

‘The pink one with the silver bow.’ Her arms tightened around his neck and Rio felt the moist flicker of her tongue against his throat.

‘That one—’ His voice tight, he indicated with his head towards the pink box and one of the staff untied it from the tree and handed it to him while one of his own security team discreetly dealt with the financial aspect of the transaction.

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was husky, her mouth tantalizingly close to his and Rio tried to ignore the perfume that wafted from her skin.

‘We’re going home.’

‘So that we can experiment with fur against naked flesh?’

Jaw clenched tight, he reminded himself that she dreamed of happy endings.

If there was one thing designed to kill his libido, it was a woman who dreamed of happy endings.

‘So that you can sleep off the champagne.’

‘Wait—’ Slightly breathless, she pressed her lips against his throat. ‘I want the tree. Will you buy me the tree?’

Rio stilled. ‘You want me to buy every present on the tree?’

‘No, I want you to buy me the tree. I don’t think I can stand the thought of Christmas without a tree. It’s like having chocolate cake with no chocolate.’ Still clutching the pink box, she snuggled against him, her voice coaxing. ‘That tree would look fantastic in the Penthouse. It’s even bigger than the one I decorated.’

The one he’d had removed.

‘I don’t want a tree.’

‘Why not? I know you prefer to work over Christmas, but it isn’t going to stop you working just because there’s a tree in the room. It cheers everything up.’

‘It doesn’t cheer me up.’

She frowned. ‘So it wasn’t my decorations in particular that you didn’t like. It’s Christmas trees in general. Why? You’re never too old to enjoy Christmas. Having a tree will give you happy memories.’

Rio put her down so suddenly she staggered. ‘I don’t have any happy memories of Christmas.’

It was the stricken look in her eyes that made him realise just how harshly he’d spoken. ‘I…I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘Forget it. Let’s get out of here.’