Christmas Seduction: The Twelve Nights of Christmas / His Christmas Acquisition / Caroselli's Christmas Baby. Michelle Celmer
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Her voice was husky, her mouth tantalizingly close to his and Rio tried to ignore the perfume that wafted from her skin.
‘We’re going home.’
‘So that we can experiment with fur against naked flesh?’
Jaw clenched tight, he reminded himself that she dreamed of happy endings.
If there was one thing designed to kill his libido, it was a woman who dreamed of happy endings.
‘So that you can sleep off the champagne.’
‘Wait—’ Slightly breathless, she pressed her lips against his throat. ‘I want the tree. Will you buy me the tree?’
Rio stilled. ‘You want me to buy every present on the tree?’
‘No, I want you to buy me the tree. I don’t think I can stand the thought of Christmas without a tree. It’s like having chocolate cake with no chocolate.’ Still clutching the pink box, she snuggled against him, her voice coaxing. ‘That tree would look fantastic in the Penthouse. It’s even bigger than the one I decorated.’
The one he’d had removed.
‘I don’t want a tree.’
‘Why not? I know you prefer to work over Christmas, but it isn’t going to stop you working just because there’s a tree in the room. It cheers everything up.’
‘It doesn’t cheer me up.’
She frowned. ‘So it wasn’t my decorations in particular that you didn’t like. It’s Christmas trees in general. Why? You’re never too old to enjoy Christmas. Having a tree will give you happy memories.’
Rio put her down so suddenly she staggered. ‘I don’t have any happy memories of Christmas.’
It was the stricken look in her eyes that made him realise just how harshly he’d spoken. ‘I…I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Forget it. Let’s get out of here.’
I don’t have any happy memories of Christmas.
Evie sat in the middle of the enormous bed, those words reverberating around her head. She’d put her foot in it, but knowing that didn’t stop her wondering and asking herself endless questions.
Why didn’t he have happy memories of Christmas?
She turned her head and looked towards the double doors that lay between her and the sitting room. They remained firmly closed.
What was he doing? Had he gone to sleep in the second bedroom?
They’d driven home without speaking, Evie silenced by that one revealing phrase and Rio communicating nothing. For once, his BlackBerry was silent and he’d simply stared out of the window at the snowy streets, his handsome face an expressionless mask.
But he was feeling, she knew that.
Not just feeling—hurting.
Knowing that she was risking another rejection, Evie slid off the bed and opened the doors quietly, afraid to disturb him if he was sleeping.
The huge living room was in darkness. The flames of the fire had almost flickered to nothing and all the lights had been extinguished.
He wasn’t there.
She was overreacting. He’d obviously chosen to sleep in the second bedroom.
Evie was about to turn and go back to bed when she noticed a ghostly green glow in the corner of the room and realised that it was the laptop screen.
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she saw that Rio was seated at the table.
‘It’s four in the morning,’ she murmured. ‘You should get some sleep.’
‘I’m not tired.’ His voice was barely audible. ‘Go back to bed, Evie. Sleep it off.’
Knowing that she was unwelcome, she was about to do just that but her feet froze to the spot as her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she managed to make out his profile. He looked like a man on the edge. A man struggling to contain an emotion bigger than him.
He was still looking at the screen, but somehow she knew that this time he wasn’t reading the numbers. His eyes were bleak and empty and she knew instantly that this was about Christmas.
I don’t have any happy memories of Christmas.
What sort of childhood had he had, that he hadn’t retained a single happy memory of Christmas?
The sudden stillness of the room seemed loud in her ears.
Evie stood still, knowing that she was intruding on a private moment. She knew she ought to back away and return to the neutral sanctuary of the bedroom. She ought to close those big doors and leave him to his dark thoughts. She was never going to see him again once this charade was over. Why did it even matter that he wanted to shut himself away and pretend Christmas wasn’t happening?
But there was something about the bleak set of his features that made it impossible for her to walk away. She never would have been able to walk away and leave another human being in so much pain, and she had no doubt that he was in pain.
She’d become intimately acquainted with the signs after her grandmother had died. Night after night, she’d seen the same look on her grandfather’s face as he’d sat in her grandmother’s favourite rocking chair, just staring at her photograph. She’d kept him company in the darkness, afraid to leave him alone with his grief.
What had Rio Zaccarelli lost?
What was he thinking about, as he stared sightlessly at that screen?
Evie walked across to him, knowing that she was taking a risk. She was approaching when she should have run away.
Rio lifted his head and inhaled deeply. ‘I said, go back to bed.’
‘My head spins when I lie down.’
‘You drank too much champagne. That feeling will pass. Drink lots of water.’
‘I’m not drunk.’
The barest flicker of a smile touched his mouth. ‘You were dancing on the table.’
‘That wasn’t because I was drunk. It was because I’d lost some of my inhibitions. If I had the confidence, I would have done the same thing sober. The drink just made me less anxious.’
‘In that case, remind me never to escort you when you’re drunk.’
‘Tell me why you hate Christmas.’
Anger flickered across his face and his swift glance was loaded with warning. ‘I think you should go to bed.’
‘Only if you come too.’ She had no idea what had driven her to say those words. Immediately, she wanted to drag them back. What if he said yes? She’d never had a one-night stand in her life. Compared with his experience and sophistication, she was a complete novice.
For a moment he simply watched her, his eyes glittering in the darkness. She had the feeling that he was fighting some brutal internal battle.
‘Leave,’ he said thickly. ‘Right now.’
‘I’m not drunk.’
‘That isn’t why I want you to leave.’
‘Then—’
‘I’m fresh out of happy endings, Evie. You won’t find one within a thousand kilometres of me.’
Her mouth dried and her heart was pounding in her chest. ‘I know that. You could never be my happy ending.