One Winter's Night: The Twelve Dates of Christmas / Frozen Heart, Melting Kiss / A Cadence Creek Christmas

Oliver feigned humility. “I don’t know why they wrote that piece.”

Eloise laughed. “Because your firm made billions of dollars for your clients last year.”

Mimi playfully swatted her husband’s arm. “He’s such a goose. Never likes to take credit. But we did have a banner year.” She smiled at Eloise. “So tell me, dear, where did you get that dress?”

“A little boutique a few streets over from here,” Eloise said with a smile. She didn’t mention that it had been five years ago on a shopping trip with her mom. Or that the dress had been a conservative gown with a full back, high collar and slim belt to accent her waist. Andi might have loved hearing that, but Mimi behaved a little too much like Eloise’s mom. She wouldn’t see talent. She’d sniff out desperation.

“I must take a look at their stock.”

“You really should.”

“Eloise has only been in the city a short time,” Ricky said, obviously having decided three years was a short time.

Oliver said, “Really.”

“Yes.” She smiled pleasantly. “I got my degree, and now I’m job hunting.”

The band began to play. The couple smiled and turned away to dance again.

Ricky put his hand on the small of her back and they moved in time to the music.

“That went well.”

“It did, but it feels odd.” With the gooseflesh raised on her skin from his hand warming the small of her back, her voice came out a little huskier than she intended.

His eyebrows rose. “Feels odd?”

She carefully met his gaze. “Like I’m asking for a job.”

He swung them around. “Okay. There’s problem number one for you. You should be proud of the fact that you’re looking for a job.”

“I feel desperate.”

“And that’s problem number two. Do you think these people got to the top by not being able to smell desperation?”

“I know they can.”

“You’ve gotta get rid of that.”

“Okay.”

The dance ended, and their conversation was cut short by someone else who came up to talk to Ricky. Unlike the Mr. and Mrs. French, this guy was not interested in Ricky’s date. Not at all. Proposing a new business venture, he’d barely reacted when Ricky introduced her.

Eloise looked around. The winking diamonds shimmering through the crowd on throats, wrists and fingers told the story of just how rich, just how important, these people were. Yet Ricky looked totally comfortable. Listening as he explained that he couldn’t invest because of the upcoming release of his new line of children’s video games after which he would take that company public, she realized he was so casual because he was so smart. He belonged here. He was as sharp as any billionaire, any magnate, any tycoon.

Ridiculous pride surged in her. The whole group wanted to know his thoughts on something, but he was with her.

She shook her head to clear it of the unexpected thought. He wasn’t with her because he liked her. He was with her because they’d made a deal, and he’d only made a deal because he needed protection. She was nothing more than a symbol to his friends that he had moved beyond the breakup that must have really hurt him.

She had best remember that.

After the set of waltzes, the band began to play a slow, mellow tune. Expecting Ricky to bow out and direct her back to the table, she was surprised when he pulled her close.

She met the solid wall of his chest as his hand slid up her back, raising gooseflesh that she prayed he couldn’t feel. Snuggled against him like a lover, she had to fight the urge to close her eyes and melt into him.

He’s not a real date.

He’s not a real date.

He’s not a real date.

She rolled the litany through her brain until it sunk in. She’d had her Prince Charming and he was gone. If she didn’t find a way to stop her reactions to Ricky, she might just lose the chance to continue going out with him.

Then there’d be no job. No future. Just endless days of temp jobs, struggling for rent money and eating packaged noodles.

CHAPTER THREE (#u32f314d5-fc9b-5636-bafa-b7fd612d9492)

REMINDING HERSELF OF her dire straits did not stem Eloise’s attraction.

Dancing with Ricky and watching him between dances, it was obvious that he was strong and smart. And he treated her like royalty. He brought her drinks, eased her into most conversations and basically behaved as if she were someone he cared about...like a real date.

Was it any wonder she was having trouble separating fact from fiction?

The second time they slow danced, she’d felt a stirring inside her that went beyond attraction. She liked him. A lot. So she spent a little extra time in the ladies’ room, reminding herself again this was only a deal, not a relationship.

But every time they slow danced, her reactions increased. Warmth flooded her when he held her. Pinpricks of delight raced through her when he did something sweet. He smiled at her when he held her cape for her at the end of the night, and her heart about shot out of her chest.

She groaned internally, finally figuring out what was wrong. Her brain might know this was only an act, but her body and her hormones reacted as if it were real.

Sliding into the limo, she sat as far away from him as she could.

As Norman started the engine, Ricky tapped his hands on his knees, studied her for a few seconds and finally said, “Tomorrow night’s event is a private dinner at the home of an investment banker who is also a college buddy.”

From the far end of the seat, she smiled politely. “Sounds nice.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to wear anything fancy.”

“Probably not. A cocktail dress should be good.”

“Great.”

The conversation died, and Eloise leaned back. It was clear from his nervous gestures that he wasn’t feeling any of the attraction she felt. So, if he’d noticed her overlong glances or the way she snuggled into him when they danced, that might be why he was so uncomfortable with her now.

She winced. Gazing into his eyes, nestling into him when they danced, she was breaking rule number one of their bargain: no romance. And if she didn’t watch herself, he could end this deal.

To head off the curiosities of his driver, she politely let him walk her to her door—up all four flights of stairs, just in case the chauffer was the type to sneak into the building and check on things.

Outside her apartment, she smiled. “I had a great time.” Too great. She’d been so angry with her parents and just plain life in general for so long that she’d never anticipated she’d actually enjoy going out again. Or that she’d be so attracted to someone again. And now here she was nervous, with their deal in jeopardy, trying not to look smitten.