LITMIR.BIZ

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unrealistic expectations.’

      ‘Or perhaps it stops you spotting love when you find it.’ Evie adjusted her dress to stop it creasing. ‘My grandparents were together for sixty years. I refuse to believe it isn’t possible. Finding someone you can love and who loves you back might be rare, but it’s not impossible.’

      Rio’s handsome face was devoid of expression.

      Staring into his dark eyes, Evie felt the heat build in her body. ‘It’s probably different for you,’ she said lamely. ‘You’re rich. Relationships must be even more complicated when you’re incredibly wealthy.’

      ‘You’ve already given me your opinion on the influence of wealth on personal relationships. Clearly you think no woman would entertain the idea of a relationship with me if I weren’t wealthy.’

      ‘I didn’t say that. I’m sure there are women out there who like cynical men.’ She told herself firmly that she wasn’t one of them but, even as she gave herself a lecture, she was noticing the blue-black shadow of his hard jaw and the undeniably sexy curve of his mouth. Struggling hard not to think about sex, kissing or anything that required physical contact, Evie tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘If you haven’t written your letter to Santa, how do you expect him to know what you’d like?’

      ‘Are you intentionally winding me up?’

      ‘Yes. Is it working?’

      ‘Yes.’ A glimmer of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Evie’s limbs weakened because he was even more gorgeous when he smiled and because she knew exactly what he could do with that mouth. And she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She squirmed with awareness, furious with herself for being such a pushover. Rich, powerful guy—adoring girl. It was an embarrassing cliché.

       As if—

      ‘If I’m going along with this plan of yours,’ she said quickly, ‘there is one other thing I want at the end of it.’

      ‘You can’t renegotiate terms once they’re agreed,’ he said silkily, but Evie lifted her chin, refusing to let him intimidate her.

      ‘I want a job when this is over. And, to be honest, that will look better for you, too. If I’m going to dump you and people find out I’ve lost my job they’ll just assume you’re petty and small-minded and you wouldn’t want that.’

      ‘Thanks for protecting my image.’ His eyes gleamed with sardonic mockery. ‘Do you have a particular job in mind? Santa’s cheerleader?’

      ‘I was employed to work on Reception,’ Evie said firmly, ‘and that’s what I want to do. I was good at it.’

      ‘So, if you were employed to work on Reception, why were you working as a housekeeper when I arrived in the early hours this morning?’

      ‘Because Tina demoted me. She said I talked too much.’ Evie’s eyes flashed defensively. ‘But I don’t see how you can talk too much as a receptionist. I was making people feel welcome. That’s the job my grandfather thinks I’m doing, and that’s the job I want when I finally dump you.’

      ‘All right.’

      Evie gulped. ‘All right? You’re saying yes? I can have my job as receptionist back?’

      ‘I’m saying yes,’ he drawled softly, ‘although, if you’re missing your grandfather that much, it strikes me you might be better taking a job closer to home.’

      ‘There isn’t anything. I tried that. No one needs my skills. What will happen to Carlos?’

      ‘I have no idea.’ Rio pressed a button by his seat and a panel opened. ‘Do you drink champagne?’

      Evie didn’t want to admit she’d never tasted it. ‘Of course.’

      He withdrew a bottle from the fridge, popped the cork and poured the bubbling liquid into two tall slender-stemmed glasses. ‘To our deal.’

      Evie sipped from the glass he handed her and choked as the bubbles flew up her nose. ‘Oh—that’s—’ she coughed ‘—yummy.’ She took another mouthful. ‘Happy Christmas. How long do we have to keep this up? When will you know if you’ve rescued your deal?’

      He looked out of the window. ‘We’ve arrived.’

       And he hadn’t answered her question.

      Wondering once again what it was about this particular deal that was so important, Evie followed his gaze and gasped. ‘We’re at the Natural History Museum.’ The famous building was illuminated against the winter night and thousands of tiny sparkling lights had been threaded through the branches of the trees. In front of the building was an ice rink and the whole place had been transformed into a winter paradise. ‘I had no idea they held events here.’

      ‘This is a very prestigious fund-raiser.’

      ‘Can we ice skate?’

      ‘Absolutely not.’

      ‘But it’s snowing.’ Evie leaned forward, captivated by the atmosphere. ‘It would be magical. Do you think we’ll have a white Christmas?’

      ‘I couldn’t care less. Do you want an umbrella?’

      ‘You don’t like snow? Seriously?’

      ‘It’s useful when I’m skiing. The rest of the time it’s an inconvenience.’

      ‘When did you last make a snowman or throw a snowball?’

      Rio frowned. ‘We need to get out of the car, Evie.’

      Evie didn’t budge. ‘You don’t write to Santa, you hate decorations, you don’t like snow, you won’t ice skate—there must be something you like about Christmas. Turkey? Meeting up with friends? What’s the best thing about Christmas for you?’

      The door was opened by his security chief and a blast of cold air entered the car.

      Rio stared at her for a long moment, his face unsmiling. ‘The best thing about Christmas for me is when it’s over,’ he gritted. ‘Now, get out of the car and smile.’

      ‘So the rumours are true, Rio? You’re engaged? You do realise you’ve just ruined every single woman’s Christmas, and half the married ones, too?’ Tabitha Fenton-Coyle stroked her long red fingernails over his sleeve. ‘Tell me what it is about her that induced a hardened cynic like yourself into marriage.’

      ‘You need to ask?’

      ‘Well, she’s pretty, of course, in a slightly unsophisticated way that a man might find appealing—’ There was a flinty glint in Tabitha’s eyes and Rio turned his head and noticed Evie laughing uninhibitedly with the two Russian billionaires, both known for their arrogant refusal to speak English at social events. They were taciturn, remote and notoriously unapproachable and yet both appeared to be listening to Evie with rapt attention.

       How was she making herself understood?

      From across the table, Rio tried to hear what she was saying. She was chatting non-stop, her hands moving as she illustrated her point. Occasionally she paused to sip champagne or listen to their response.

      ‘Clever of you to find a woman who speaks Russian,’ Tabitha said, ‘given your business interests in that country. Is that how you met? Is she an interpreter or something?’

       Evie spoke Russian?

      Unable to hear her above the noise from the surrounding tables, Rio focused his gaze on her lips and realised that she was indeed speaking Russian.

      His hostess was watching him. ‘You didn’t know, did you? Well, if she can persuade them to open their wallets when the charity auction begins, then she’ll certainly get my vote.’

       Where had Evie learned to speak Russian?

      Why

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