A Champagne Christmas: The Christmas Love-Child / The Christmas Night Miracle / The Italian Billionaire's Christmas Miracle

Then she’d not only surrendered, she’d thrown herself at him—and he’d rejected her!

She rubbed her temples, then tried to straighten her wrinkled beige skirt and oversize brown cardigan. She’d planned to iron them this morning but she hadn’t had time. She’d tossed and turned all night, then fallen asleep around dawn and had nearly slept through her alarm. Now she felt exhausted. Every time she thought about last night, she writhed inside. Her cheeks burned hot with shame.

She’d tried to resist him.

She’d really thought she could.

But then when he’d shown such unexpected gentleness, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of her when he spoke of his family, she’d been helpless to fight him.

But she must have overestimated Maksim’s desire for her. Big surprise there. What did she know about men? He’d wanted her—she was still sure about that. Then he’d changed his mind. One moment he’d been kissing her senseless, peeling her clothes off, his hands roaming all over her as he’d pushed her back against his bed.

The next minute he’d been shoving her into a taxi without so much as a good-night.

She swallowed. The reason for the change was obvious. He’d been turned off by her virginity. What man would want to initiate a twenty-five-year-old virgin?

It was all too horrifying.

Sometime before dawn, she’d gotten up from bed and packed up the Leighton dress and coat and the platinum tiara. She would send them to his penthouse tonight and be done.

Even now she could hardly believe that she’d worn them to a society party, where she’d been lavished with kisses by the most devastating man in the city, probably the world.

She was lucky he’d rejected her, she told herself. She stared blankly at the screen.

She’d thought she was invulnerable, but she’d utterly lost herself in the winter moonlight. He’d stolen her soul away, evaporating it from her body like mist under his power.

The intoxicating force of his touch had done such strange things to her, made her weak inside, made her melt in his arms. She wondered if she’d ever truly loved Alan at all. Because if she had, how could she have surrendered to Maksim?

As if on cue, she heard Alan’s peevish voice. “Where were you last night? I came back early and you weren’t in your apartment.”

She looked up to see him standing over her desk. It was almost ten-thirty and he was just now coming into the office. That was typical. What was unusual was that his pale, handsome features looked irritated as he looked down at her.

“I was out,” she replied shortly. There was not a single detail about last night that she felt like sharing with Alan.

“Did you finish the wedding plans?”

Anger—usually such a foreign emotion—suddenly burned through her. Did he think she had no life of her own? Did he really think after doing his shopping, she would rush to spend her whole night planning his wedding and honeymoon?

The answer was clear as he waited with his arms folded.

Yes.

Clenching her hands under her desk, she took a deep breath. It wasn’t enough that she came into work before dawn while he never bothered to arrive before ten. It wasn’t enough that she’d spent the past three hours frantically writing his speech for a charity event that afternoon, a speech he’d insisted for weeks that he would write himself—until she’d found the task waiting in her inbox that morning.

“Look at these!” The front desk receptionist appeared with an enormous arrangement of exquisite long-stemmed white calla lilies, which she set on Grace’s desk. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

“Oh, thank you,” Alan said with a smile and a wink, immediately reaching for the card. “I can’t imagine who—”

“Oh no, Mr. Barrington,” the receptionist said with a giggle. “They’re for Miss Cannon.”

“For me?” Grace exclaimed in shock.

“For you?”Alan said with equal shock. “What…who?”

Drawing the card from the envelope, Grace silently read a single line written in a rough, sharp hand.

“Last night you dazzled me like the sun in winter. Waiting outside now for the bright burn of dawn—M.”

Happiness soared through Grace.

She hadn’t made a fool of herself after all! Maksim hadn’t been disgusted with her for being a virgin! He’d just sent her away in the taxi because…

Because he wanted more than just a one-night stand? Because he was trying to protect her and take things slow?

It was the only possible reason.

And he already wanted to see her again! She suddenly felt like tap-dancing beneath her desk.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the heady scent of lilies. Maksim thought she was worth such extravagant beauty.

And for the first time in forever so did she.

“Well?” the receptionist asked slyly. “Who’s the prince charming, Grace?”

“Yes,” Alan demanded. “Who?”

She looked up at her boss and saw him with utterly new eyes. She’d suddenly had enough. Straightening in her chair, she gave a dismissive laugh.

“For heaven’s sake, Alan, I’m your secretary, not your wife. Why do you care who sends me flowers?”

“I don’t,” he stammered, clearly surprised. “I just want to make sure that you devote the proper time and energy to your work.”

“You mean the time I’ve spent buying gifts for your various girlfriends?” she said coolly. “Or do you mean the time I’ve worked for you around the clock without pay?”

The receptionist gasped a laugh. At Alan’s dirty look, she gulped and scurried away.

He looked back at Grace. “Look here, Gracie…”

She leaned her elbows against her desk. “Or maybe you mean the times I’ve asked you for a pay raise.” She thrummed her pen thoughtfully against her cheek. “All the times you put me off and said we’d talk about it later. When I was promoted to your executive assistant. When I moved to London with you.”

He swallowed, licking his lips as he attempted a weak smile. “You know how valuable you are to me—how much I need you!”

“I’m afraid that’s not good enough.”

He leaned over her desk. “Is this because of Francesca? Because you don’t need to feel jealous,” he whispered urgently. “Our engagement isn’t real.”

“You bought her lingerie!” she gasped.

He gave a bitter laugh. “I thought it was real. She set me straight last night when I suggested an elopement. That’s why I asked if you’d started the wedding plans yet—you don’t need to bother. She only agreed to a fake engagement to make some other man jealous. She has no interest in marrying me—or sleeping with me either.” He clenched his jaw. “But as long as I play along with her, she’ll make sure her father doesn’t know, and the merger will still go through.”