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.