The Twelve Nights of Christmas (10 page)

He reminded her of an armoured tank, forging forwards regardless of what was in his path. Her feelings were no more than blades of grass, easily squashed and ignored under the weight of his own driving sense of purpose.

When Rio Zaccarelli wanted something, he got it. And apparently he was willing to go to any lengths to secure this particular ‘deal'.

‘Why didn't I think this through? I've just raised his hopes and that's an awful thing to do.' Frantic, Evie reached for the phone again. ‘I have to tell him the truth, now, before this whole thing escalates and he tells everyone I'm marrying a billionaire.'

‘Leave it.'

‘Rio, he thinks I'm going to get pregnant any moment! He wants to bounce his great-grandchild on his knee! I'm sorry, but I can't do this.'

But Rio had slipped the phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘You agreed to the plan.'

‘Because you railroaded me. I didn't have time to think it
through, but I can see now this is going to be really complicated and—'

‘It's done. Too late.' With an infuriating lack of emotion, he scanned the screen of his BlackBerry. ‘The switchboard at my corporate headquarters is jammed with journalists seeking confirmation that I've just become engaged. The story is out there.'

Her stomach lurched. ‘And your people have confirmed it?'

‘They've said “no comment”, which is as good as demanding that the press print an announcement. It's too late to change your mind now. Stop panicking. Your grandfather sounded fine about the whole thing. Tell me about Jeff.'

Evie tried to ignore the throbbing pain behind her eyes. ‘I don't want to talk about Jeff.'

‘I'm not surprised.' Rio sprawled in his seat, texting with astonishing speed and dexterity. ‘He sounds like a total loser.'

Evie stared at him in helpless disbelief. She wanted to explain how worried she was about hurting her grandfather's feelings, but she knew she was wasting her time. Rio Zaccarelli didn't care about feelings, did he? All he cared about was making sure his business proceeded unhindered.

‘I really don't think I can go through with this.'

Rio watched her, a deadly gleam in his eyes. ‘We made a deal.'

‘Yes.' Evie croaked the word, knowing that she was trapped. If this was the only way to prevent that photograph being published, then she had no choice.

Deals, deals, deals…

She'd made a deal with the devil. And now she was going to pay.

D
RAGGING
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.