The Twelve Nights of Christmas

He dominated the room with the sheer force of his presence, his powerful legs spread apart, his stance unmistakably commanding as he focused furious black eyes on Carlos’s face.

Hearing her entrance, he transferred that terrifying gaze to Evie and she stood pinned to the spot, the simmering fury in his eyes acting like a bucket of cold water.

She went from burning to shivering in the space of a glance.

‘I…I’d better get dressed,’ she stammered and he made a sound in his throat that sounded ominously like a growl.

‘You’ll stay exactly where you are until I give you permission to move.’

Whatever had propelled him to kiss her, it obviously wasn’t something he intended to repeat. There was no softness in his eyes. No hint of the sexual promise that had shimmered only moments earlier.

And suddenly she knew exactly who he was and that realisation came with a cold flash of horror. She’d once seen his picture in the back of the hotel brochure—read a statement from the lord and master of the Zaccarelli Leisure Group. The man who had kissed her was Salvatorio Zaccarelli—Rio to the media, who licked their lips over his taste for glamorous women and super-fast cars.

From what she’d read, Evie had already decided that he was a ruthless, cold-hearted money-making machine who didn’t give a damn about the human cost of his decisions. When he took a personal interest in one of his hotels the first thing he did was to change everything he didn’t like, and that included the staff. He didn’t visit when things were going well. Only when they were going badly did he thunder in like an executioner wielding his sword. There was nothing gentle about him. Nothing soft. He treated women the same way as his business. He hired and fired. No one was with him for long.

Evie had planned to keep her head down and stay out of his way.

Realising that her plan had backfired in the most spectacular fashion she stared, terrified, into his smouldering black eyes. He was obviously livid that she’d spent the night in the Penthouse.

Unless Carlos would admit that he’d given her permission, her job was toast.

And so was her dignity.

Evie swallowed hard, wondering why he’d kissed her. From the firm, deliberate seduction of his mouth to the sensuous brush of his hand over her bare skin, it had been a kiss loaded with sizzling chemistry and erotic promise.

Even as she was wondering if it was usual for him to kiss the staff before firing them, a burly man she’d didn’t know came sprinting through the door.

‘Sorry, boss.’ He stared hard at Rio Zaccarelli, as if in some silent communication. ‘Lost him. He must have nipped down the back stairs. I’ve contacted the local police and I’m going to go through the CCTV footage with hotel security. We’ll identify him. Do you want me to question the girl?’

Question her? Why would they want to question her? Her crime was straightforward enough, wasn’t it?

‘You don’t know her?’ Carlos looked shocked. ‘I assumed—why else would she be in your bedroom, Rio?’

Appalled, Evie stared at him. Obviously, Carlos was going to put his own future before hers. Presumably he was worried that if he confessed to having given her permission to sleep in the Penthouse, he’d be disciplined. Feeling intensely vulnerable, she stood there, searching desperately for a way out of this mess.

‘Accept my apologies, Rio.’ Carlos’s voice was smooth. ‘We normally screen our staff very carefully but at this time of year when we’re so busy—’ He left the sentence hanging. ‘I’m disappointed in you, Evie. You abused a position of trust.’

‘She works here?’ Rio Zaccarelli’s voice was harsh. ‘She’s one of your staff?’

Everyone turned to look at her and Evie burned with humiliation. So that was that. No one was going to believe she’d slept in the Penthouse with permission. They’d believe Carlos, not a lowly member of the housekeeping team. She was nothing more than cannon fodder. Whatever happened next, she was doomed.

There was no point in defending herself.

She had no home, no job and it was less than two weeks until Christmas.

Thinking of her grandfather, Evie felt despair seep through her veins. There was no way she could tell him. Not just before Christmas. He was so proud of her new job and the way she’d picked herself up.

You’re a real soldier, Evie.

After everything he’d done for her, she’d let him down.

Maybe she should just forget dignity and beg. Or maybe she should try kissing the boss again. Her eyes drifted over his handsome face and rested on his firm, sensuous mouth. That same mouth that had taken liberties with hers only moments earlier. Without thinking, she drew her tongue over her lower lip, tasting his kiss.

He saw the gesture and his eyes flared with anger and something else, far, far more dangerous. With a final contemptuous glance, he turned back to Carlos. ‘Do you know what you’ve done?’ His voice was thickened with emotion. ‘Have you any idea how much damage you’ve caused?’

Confused, Evie watched as Rio Zaccarelli transferred the full force of his anger onto Carlos. Why? Had he guessed that Carlos had given her permission? Had he seen through the lies? He was rumoured to have a brain as sharp as a blade.

Hope flickered to life inside her. If Rio Zaccarelli knew Carlos had given her permission, then maybe he’d let her off this time.

He had the reputation of being an exacting boss with impossibly high standards, but, all the same—

Sweat shone on Carlos’s forehead. ‘What damage? I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

With a growl of anger, Rio Zaccarelli crossed the room in three long strides and locked his fist in the front of Carlos’s shirt. ‘Have you no conscience? No sense of human decency?’

Seeing the black expression on Rio Zaccarelli’s face, Evie covered her mouth with her hand.

Wasn’t he going a bit overboard?

Oh, dear God, he was going to punch creepy Carlos.

And Carlos looked terrified and triumphant at the same time. Although he was undoubtedly afraid, Evie had the strangest feeling that he was enjoying seeing the other man lose control. His expression was mocking rather than apologetic, as if the outcome had exceeded his most extravagant hopes.

Trying to make sense of it and failing, she could do nothing but watch as the drama unfolded in front of her. The two men appeared to have forgotten her existence. They faced each other down like two bulls fighting for territory, but there was no doubt in her mind who was the superior, both in strength and intellect.

While Carlos blustered and bumbled, Rio’s anger was cold and a thousand times more frightening.

‘If you have lost me this deal—’

‘Me?’ His voice contradicting the look in his eyes, Carlos sounded shocked. ‘You think I had anything to do with this? You seriously think—? Rio, I know you don’t need this sort of publicity right now—I know you’re at a delicate stage of negotiations. This could ruin everything for you.’

Evie looked on in disbelief, trying to follow the thread of the conversation. This was all about some stupid deal? That was why Ruthless Rio was so angry? What had happened to everyone’s priorities? All they thought about was money, money, money.

It was only because she had her eyes fixed on his taut profile that Evie saw the flash of raw emotion cross Rio Zaccarelli’s face. For a moment she thought he was going to reach out and grab Carlos by the throat.

Instead, he released him.

‘Vai al diavolo. Get out of my sight.’ His voice was strangely robotic, his features a mask of contempt. ‘From this moment on, I don’t know you. You don’t work for me and I don’t want to hear from you or see you again. Step into one of my hotels and I’ll have you removed. My lawyers will sort out the details with you. And if this causes me trouble—if I lose—’ He broke off, apparently unable to finish the sentence, his voice thickened with an emotion so much deeper than anger that Evie felt real fear.

How could he be so angry about one stupid deal?

She waited for Carlos to defend himself but the other man shot through the door without looking backwards.

Which, basically, left her alone with a madman.

Evie tightened her grip on the throw. She loathed Carlos, but at least he was a familiar face. If murder was about to be committed, then it might have been useful to have a witness. Or even an alternative victim.

The burly man, who she assumed was a bodyguard, flexed his fingers threateningly. ‘Do you want me to deal with him, boss? I reckon I could get the information you want out of him in less than a minute. He’s a wimp.’