Christmas Seduction: The Twelve Nights of Christmas / His Christmas Acquisition / Caroselli's Christmas Baby. Michelle Celmer
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.’
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,