The Twelve Nights of Christmas (7 page)

His lips thinned with disapproval. ‘That's bad.'

‘Hypocrite. Are you seriously trying to tell me you've never dumped a woman?'

‘I wouldn't use the word “dumped”. I've ended plenty of relationships, but always in person. I've never sent a text. That's cowardly.'

‘I suppose it's human nature to avoid a difficult conversation.'

‘Difficult conversations are part of my daily existence.'

Evie had no trouble believing that. ‘Jeff is nothing like you.' A wimp, her grandfather had called him. ‘Perhaps he was sensible. After all the lies he told, I would have blacked his eye if he'd told me in person.'

His eyes lingered on her hair. ‘A true redhead with a temper to match.'

Reminded of the embarrassing fact that he knew she was a true redhead, Evie ploughed on. ‘What this boils down to is that my grandfather isn't going to be impressed to see me naked with another man. He's very old-fashioned. I don't want him to think I'm like that. I'm
not
like that! I don't flit from one man to another.'

‘Unless the other man was someone important to you.' Rio spoke under his breath and she had a feeling that he was thinking aloud.

That thought was confirmed when she muttered, ‘Sorry?' and received no response.

‘If it was someone you'd been secretly seeing. A rebound relationship that turned into something special—' He paced the length of the bedroom and then turned to look at her, his eyes burning dark. ‘Wholesome.'

‘You make me sound like a breakfast cereal,' she said irritably. ‘Why do you keep saying that?'

‘Never mind. How long ago did you start working here?'

‘I don't know…I…'

‘Think!'

‘Don't shout at me! I can't concentrate when people shout!'

Rio sucked in a breath. ‘I'm
not
shouting. I just want an answer. When?'

‘About six weeks ago. I came down after Jeff dumped me. I started as a receptionist. I thought it was my big break.'

‘Six weeks—' Before the words had left his lips, his BlackBerry was in his hand and he was checking something. ‘I was staying in the Penthouse six weeks ago. I spent one night here on my way to New York. I need you to find out if you were working here then.'

‘I know I was because I made a point of avoiding you. So
what? What difference does that make?' Failing to follow his train of thought, Evie looked at him blankly but he was already dialling a number and speaking into his phone in Italian.

He made call after call and each time Evie opened her mouth to ask him what was going on, he simply lifted his hand to silence her until she was ready to scream with exasperation.

‘Hello, I'm here too!' After his seventh consecutive phone call, she waved at him. ‘I need to ring my grandfather.'

‘First, I want to get this announcement into the press and arrange a photo.'

‘What announcement? What photo?' Worried, irritable, Evie snapped at him. ‘Haven't we had enough photos for one day?'

He gave a lethal smile. ‘This photograph will be different.'

‘Different as in I get to wear clothes? Yippee.' She didn't know how she was still managing to joke because she'd never felt less like joking about anything in her life.

She knew enough about the press to understand that scandal and humiliation sold better than anything else. ‘Can't you just stop them printing the photograph? Isn't there a privacy law or something?'

‘That isn't going to help us. The best thing we can do is stop this whole thing looking sleazy.' Ruthlessly focused, he strode towards the door of the Penthouse. ‘Stay out of sight. Whatever you do, don't emerge from the bedroom until I come and get you. I don't want anyone to see you.'

‘Why? What are you going to do?'

‘Find you some proper clothes and then show the world we didn't have a one-night stand.'

Bemused, Evie stared at him. ‘How?'

‘By proving that we share something special.' A triumphant gleam in his eyes, he yanked open the door and turned to look at her. ‘I'm going to announce our engagement.'

R
IO
gave his Director of Communications a volley of instructions over the phone and then updated his lawyers.

Listening to Pietro's dire predictions, he felt his stomach clench.

Whiter than white….

He should have anticipated this.

He should have known they'd do something to try and stop this deal going through. He'd been arrogant, allowing himself to relax and think that the whole thing was in the bag.

Sweat cooled his brow and he realised that his hand was shaking. Making a conscious effort to control his breathing, he hauled his emotions back and buried them deep. Emotions had no place in negotiation, he knew that. And this was the most complex, delicate negotiation he'd ever conducted.

‘Whatever it takes,' he promised his lawyer. ‘You wanted wholesome—I'm giving you wholesome.'

When the delivery arrived at the Penthouse, he dismissed the staff member and took the boxes through to the bedroom himself. He then handed them to the girl without breaking off his conversation and without risking another look at her luxuriant red hair.

Why the hell had he kissed her?

He was well aware that his own libido had catapulted him into this situation. If he'd taken one look at her and
left the room, the photographer wouldn't have been able to get his shot.

As it was…

With a low growl, Rio focused his mind on the present.

Having hammered out the plan with his team in Rome, he was about to call his team in New York when he heard the bedroom door open.

The girl stood there, her eyes blazing with anger, her hair flowing like liquid fire down her back. ‘Excuse me! In case you've forgotten, this affects me, too. Do you intend to discuss any of this with me or are you just going to do your own thing?'

‘I don't problem solve by committee.' Congratulating himself on his brief to the stylist, Rio scanned the discreet, elegant dress with satisfaction. It was perfect. She managed to look wholesome and sexy at the same time.
This could just work.
‘I'm busy sorting out our problem right now.'

‘No, Mr Zaccarelli, you're sorting out
your
problem—I'm incidental. You haven't once asked what I want to do about this mess which, by the way, is ultimately the fault of you and your stupid, slimy hotel manager, who can't keep his hands to himself.' She stalked across to him and shoved the redundant housekeeper uniform into his hands while Rio dissected that sentence into its relative parts.

‘What do you mean, he “can't keep his hands to himself”? Are you saying he touched you?' Astonished by the sudden explosion of anger that was released by that unexpected revelation, Rio was suddenly glad he'd fired Carlos on the spot. His voice cold, he probed for the details. ‘Did you report him for sexual harassment?'

‘No. I broke his finger.'

‘You
broke
his finger?'

‘My grandfather taught unarmed combat during the war. He taught me self-defence.'

Distracted by that unexpected confession, Rio looked at her in a new light. ‘I'll remember that.'

‘You should. But, to repeat, you're not solving
our
problem, Mr Zaccarelli, you're solving
your
problem.'

‘Call me Rio. I think we moved on to the first name stage about an hour ago. And, if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have a problem.' His observation appeared to act as fuel to her already happily burning temper.

‘If creepy Carlos hadn't used me, then he would have used someone else and frankly I wish he had because then I wouldn't be in this mess.' She paced the room, trying to work off her stress.

Watching all that fabulous hair ripple down her back, Rio fought the urge to flatten her against the nearest hard surface and conduct in-depth research into the impact of extremely long legs on the enhancement of sexual pleasure.

He had no idea what her true role had been in what he now recognised as a final desperate attempt to stop this deal going through. Maybe she
was
innocent. Maybe she wasn't. Either way, she was the means by which he was going to extract himself from the catastrophic mess he now found himself in.

The upside of his plan was that he didn't need to struggle to keep his hands off her. In fact, the more hands the better.

He was slightly puzzled by her lack of confidence. Accustomed to women so narcissistic that they used every reflective surface to admire themselves, it came as a shock to discover one who didn't seem to spend her time in endless self-admiration. When she'd confessed that men found her too tall it had been on the tip of his tongue to point out that height was irrelevant when you were horizontal, but he'd managed not to voice that thought aloud. Rio wondered whether it would count as a charitable act to demonstrate just how well those endless legs of hers would wrap around his waist.

‘You look perfect in that dress.'

‘I look like a politician or something.' Keeping her back to him, she paced towards the window and Rio frowned.

‘Don't go near the windows.' His clipped command earned him a challenging glance.

‘Why? We're too high up for anyone to see.'

‘In today's world of long lenses?' Watching her lose more colour from her face, he let the observation hang in the air. ‘The next photograph they take of us will be when I'm ready and not before.'

‘I don't want any more photographs taken!' But she moved away from the window, fiddling nervously with the fabric of her dress as she paced in the other direction. ‘Look—this whole engagement thing is ridiculous. Can't you just stop that photo being printed?'

‘No.' Rio recoiled from the sheen of tears he saw in her eyes. ‘But I can stop it looking like a sleazy one-night stand. We're going to make people believe we're in a relationship—serious about each other.' Looking at her now, those high heels elongating her spectacular legs, he was even starting to believe it could work. No red-blooded male would question his interest.

‘It's a really s-stupid plan.'

Rio, who had been congratulating himself on a truly genius idea, was insulted. ‘It's an incredible plan.' His tone cooled. ‘You're lucky I'm not currently involved with anyone.'

‘Lucky?'

Rio dismissed thoughts of the Russian ballerina. ‘It's unusual for me not to be in a relationship.'

‘Well, I suppose that's one of the advantages of being filthy rich. Where there's money, there will always be women.'

Taken aback by that diminution of his qualities, Rio breathed deeply. ‘Women are generally interested in more than my wallet.'

‘How do you know? They're not going to tell you, are
they? And I don't suppose gold-diggers come with a warning hanging round their neck.'

‘I can spot a gold-digger in the dark from a thousand paces.' He ignored the discordant image in his head that reminded him that on at least one occasion that statement had proven not to be true.

‘Good for you.' Her slightly acidic tone matched her growing agitation. She explored the room, picking things up and putting them down again. First the vase on the table, then a notepad, then a remote control. She squinted down at it and pressed a button mindlessly and a gas fire flared to life behind a glass panel in the wall.

Swearing under his breath, Rio crossed the room and turned her to face him. ‘I know you're anxious that they're going to print your photograph but, trust me, it will be fine providing people think we're together. This is the best way of dealing with it.'

‘That's just your opinion.'

Rio, who had never before had his opinion dismissed, ground his teeth. ‘If you have an alternative suggestion, then I'm listening.'

‘No, you're not. You're pretending to listen while secretly thinking that you'll let me say my piece and then just do what you were planning to do all along, but it isn't going to work. I won't pretend to be engaged to you.'

Assuming that her reluctance was rooted in her insecurity, Rio sought to reassure her. ‘By the time we've done something about your wardrobe, your nails and your hair, it will be easy to convince people that we are involved with each other.'

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?' She put the remote control down slowly and carefully, as if it were a potential murder weapon. ‘
You'll look fine, Evie, once I've turned you into something decent.
Is that what you're saying?'
Her tightly worded question triggered all the alarms in Rio's internal warning system.

‘If this is going to be one of those,
Does my bottom look big in this?
conversations, then don't go there,' he warned, his tone thickened with frustration. The clock was ticking and her resistance was an obstacle he hadn't anticipated. Not for one moment had it entered his head that she'd be anything other than compliant. ‘If you hadn't been lying naked on my bed, I would not have been tempted to kiss you,' Rio exploded with the tension that had been building since the photographer had chosen to elbow his way into his life. ‘If you had worn clothes or at least slept under the covers—'

‘If you had shown some self-control—'

Rio breathed deeply because that was a charge from which it was almost impossible to defend himself and that particular aspect of this whole seedy situation disturbed him far more than he was prepared to admit. He was always extremely careful with his liaisons and he never indulged in one-night stands. And yet where had his self-control been a few hours ago when he'd seen her lying on his bed? Not for the first time, he wondered what would have happened had the photographer paused before taking his photograph.
How much more revealing and incriminating would a later picture have been?

‘There is no point in dwelling on what is done,' he said tautly, ‘and the truth is that a photograph of you naked in that bed was all that was needed. The rest would have been easily created from association and artistic use of Photoshop.'

‘You mean they would have manufactured a photograph of the two of us together?'

‘Photography software is increasingly sophisticated and you
were
in my bedroom. Stop throwing out obstacles when the solution I'm proposing is in both our interests. Your reputation stays intact. You mentioned that you have nowhere to live—I'm offering you somewhere to live. You get to
stay here, in the most highly prized hotel suite in London. Anything you want, you can have. Most women in your position would be extremely excited at the prospect of an all expenses paid holiday complete with shopping.'

‘Women are not a homogeneous breed, Mr Zaccarelli—we're individuals with individual tastes and needs. And why do you care so much about whether it looks like a one-night stand or something more? What is this deal you keep talking about?'

The question caught him off guard. For a brief moment he felt his control start to unravel. ‘You don't need to know. Rest assured that I have a whole team of lawyers working night and day to make sure that it doesn't fall apart at the eleventh hour.'

‘And if it does?'

A chill ran down his spine. ‘It won't.'

‘Providing I do as you say. I don't understand why this story could ruin it for you. Is this deal of yours with some old-fashioned guy who thinks you should have a blameless reputation or something?'

‘Something like that.' Rio realised that his palms were sweating and he turned away from her, locking down his emotions with ruthless efficiency.

‘So you'll do all this to win one deal? Money, money, money. Is that all that matters to you?' Increasingly agitated, she rubbed her hands down her arms. ‘Well, I'm sorry if my decision loses you a few million, but I'm not prepared to do it.'

Back in control, Rio turned to look at her, sure that he must have misheard. ‘Excuse me?'

‘I won't do it. I'm just going to look more of a fool.' She covered her face with her hands and gave a moan of embarrassment. ‘Every time I think about that photo being printed I just want to hide. Grandpa is never going to be able to hold his head up at senior poker ever again.'

Banking down his own frustration, Rio crossed the room. Gently, he pulled her hands away from her face. ‘You are not going to hide. You are going to hold your head up high and look as though you are in love with me.' Appreciating the irony of his own words, he gave a faint smile and she instantly picked up on it.

‘Don't tell me—usually you're telling women
not
to fall in love with you.'

‘I'm not into serious relationships. They don't work for me. I'm not that kind of guy.'
Once, just once, and look where it had got him.

‘And I assume the public know that.'

‘If you're worried that I won't be able to play my part, then don't be. I can be very convincing,' Rio assured her. ‘The fact that I'm not usually serious about a woman will make this whole story all the more plausible.'

‘And all the more embarrassing.'

Rio's jaw clenched and he spoke through his teeth, his patience severely tested. ‘Are you saying it's embarrassing to be associated with me?'

‘I'm saying it's going to be embarrassing when it ends. For all your so-called brilliant brain, you haven't thought this through. It's going to end—and then how will it look?'

‘What does it matter?' Irritated to the point of explosion, Rio spread his hands in a gesture of exasperation. ‘Relationships end all the time—it is a part of life. And that is surely a better option for you than having the world think you had a one night stand.'

‘So basically I have two choices here—either I get to look like a big, fat slut or I get to be the only woman to be dumped twice in the space of months. Forgive me if I'm not jumping up and down with excitement at either option.'