The Twelve Nights of Christmas (5 page)

BOOK: The Twelve Nights of Christmas
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‘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.

Thinking of her grandfather, Evie wondered whether it was worth begging Rio Zaccarelli to give her another chance. Gazing into those unsympathetic black eyes, she decided that it was a waste of breath. She doubted there was a gram of compassion anywhere in his muscle-packed frame.

‘I have a big problem.' His deep voice slid over her nerve-endings like treacle and Evie snatched in a breath, shocked by the sudden heat that shot through her. Underneath the dangerously slippery silk throw, she was suddenly horribly conscious that she was still naked.

If ever there was a more uneven confrontation, this had to be it.

Everything about him suggested raw masculine power, from the dusky shadow of his jaw to the tiny scar that flawed the skin above his right eye.

A vision of Jeff's baby-smooth face flew into her head but Evie realised that to make comparisons between the two men would be nothing short of ridiculous. They had nothing in common. Nothing at all.

Rio Zaccarelli might have been dressed for a formal dinner, but the external trappings of sophistication didn't fool her for a moment. This man wasn't tame or civilised. He was hard and unyielding and he'd do whatever he needed to do to achieve what he wanted.

A real man.

Suffocated by the heat in the air, her limbs suddenly felt heavy and her heart hammered against her ribs. Her instincts were telling her to run, but she couldn't move.

She tried to conjure up an image of Jeff's face again but
found that she couldn't. Instead, her mind was filled with a vision of burnished skin and eyes full of sexual promise.

To make matters worse, two walls of the opulent bathroom were mirrored, which meant that his iron-hard physique was reproduced several times over, dominating her vision.

Seriously unsettled, Evie clutched at the throw. ‘If you'd give me five minutes privacy, I'll get dressed.'

‘You own clothes?'

‘Of course I own clothes! They're drying on the—' Evie turned her head and her eyes widened. ‘I left them right there—on the radiator. They're gone.' Her mind explored possible explanations and came up with only one. Feeling the panic rise again, she looked at him and he lifted an eyebrow in weary mockery.

‘They walked out of the room under their own steam?'

‘Forget it.' Her voice choked, Evie lifted her hand like a stop sign. ‘I've had enough of this! There's no point in me saying anything because you're not going to believe me anyway.'

‘Strangely enough, you're wrong.' His tone was grim. ‘I'm guessing that Carlos had something to do with the mysterious disappearance of your clothes. Am I right?'

Evie lowered her hand slowly. ‘H-how do you know that?'

‘Because he invited you to stay in the Penthouse and I doubt he did that out of generosity of spirit.'

Relief spurted through her veins. ‘I didn't think you believed me—'

‘I never thought you acted alone. Now it's all slotting together—' A muscle flickered in his cheek and he muttered something in Italian under his breath.

Evie was rigid with tension. ‘I didn't know what was going on. I still don't, but it doesn't really matter. I just want to get out of here. If someone could lend me some clothes, I can go.'

‘You're not going anywhere.'

Her heart rate increased. ‘If that whole naked photograph thing was a set up then the best thing is surely for me to get as far away from here as possible. I'll go somewhere no one can find me.'

He started to laugh, but there was no trace of humour in the rich masculine sound. It was loaded with cynicism and derision. ‘Are you really that naive? The press can find anyone.'

That news shook Evie. ‘But why would they want to? I'm no one.'

‘Perhaps you were “no one” before you chose to lie naked on my bed with me, but now you're a person of extreme interest.'

‘I wasn't
with
you.'

‘Yes, you were.'

‘Well, that part was your fault. You were the one who kissed me and, quite frankly, I have no idea why you did that.' And she wished he hadn't because, in the midst of this crisis, those feelings kept rushing back to torture her.

His mouth, moving over hers with erotic purpose.

‘None of this is my responsibility. You were the one lying there naked.' He issued that statement with such arrogance that Evie simply gaped at him, wondering how it was possible to be terrified of someone and turned on at the same time.

‘And that means what? That you kiss every naked woman you see?'

‘Normally, the woman gets naked
after
I kiss her,' he drawled. ‘That's the usual order of things. Despite the lengths some women go to attract my attention, no one has ever gone quite as far as stripping naked and lying on my bed. That was a first.'

‘I thought we'd established that I was set up!' Evie's voice rose. ‘If I'd known you were going to arrive early, do you honestly think I would have been lying there?'

‘Yes. That photograph will sell for a fortune.'

‘Maybe it will, but it won't be me making the fortune,' Evie snapped, stalking out of the bathroom with the throw trailing behind her like a wedding gown.

‘Where do you think you're going?'

‘Out of here. I'm sick of seeing your reflection in the mirrors. One of you is bad enough. Ten is more than I can take. I'm going to ring Housekeeping and get them to send up a uniform and then I'm going to go and hide somewhere even the press can't find me.'

‘Running is
not
the way to handle this.'

‘Well, if you can think of a different plan, I'd love to hear it. This is easy for you. You have bodyguards and you own tall buildings with fancy security. All you have to do is lock yourself in your gilded palace until the fuss dies down, but I have to live with the fact that photograph is out there. Everyone who wants a laugh can look at it. They'll probably start a Facebook page for it—
The biggest bottom in the world
.' Evie tripped on the throw and stumbled. Steadying herself, she blinked back tears. ‘I have to live with the fact that my eighty-six-year-old grandfather is going to see me with my naked bottom in the air, kissing a stranger! If he has another one of his turns it will be
all
your fault.'

‘Which is going to shock him most? Seeing your naked bottom, or the fact that you're kissing a stranger?'

Evie snatched the phone up. ‘You're not even funny.'

‘Do I look as though I'm laughing? You have
no idea
how serious this is for me. For you, it's embarrassing; for me, it's—' He broke off, his voice unsteady and Evie paused with the handset in her hand, transfixed by the raw emotion she saw in his eyes.

‘For you it's what? A deal you don't want to lose? Is this an ego thing? It has to be because you clearly don't care about the embarrassment and I can't honestly believe you'd be making this much fuss about money. I mean, it's not as if
you don't already have plenty!' When he didn't answer, she gave a humourless laugh. ‘Oh, forget it. I don't know why I'm expecting you to care any more than Carlos cared. Why does it matter to you that one more woman's reputation is shattered? I'm just another notch on your bedpost.'

‘I do not make notches on my bedpost,' he said thickly. ‘I am very choosy about my relationships.'

And he wouldn't be choosing a woman like her.
Evie turned scarlet and stabbed the number for Housekeeping. ‘Hello? Margaret? I'm really sorry to bother you, but could you possibly deliver a fresh housekeeping uniform to the Penthouse, please. I've…spilled something…sorry?' She blushed and turned her head away, lowering her voice. ‘Size twelve…I said size twelve…I'm not whispering—' She gave a gasp as the phone was removed from her fingers.

‘She said size twelve,' Rio drawled, ‘and, while you're at it, send some underwear and shoes. She takes a—' his gaze slid to her cleavage ‘—thirty-four DD and her feet are—' He lifted an eyebrow in Evie's direction.

‘Forty,' she said faintly and he delivered that information in the same commanding tone and ended the call. Then he answered his mobile, which was buzzing in his pocket and spoke at length in Italian, leaving Evie standing with a scarlet face, still trying to work out how he'd been able to guess her bra size so accurately.

He was still in mid-conversation when there was another buzzing sound and he drew his BlackBerry out of a different pocket without breaking conversation.

BOOK: The Twelve Nights of Christmas
4.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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