Page 12 of Twelve Nights of Nights of Christmas

‘I own this hotel. I can do anything I like.’

‘You have no grounds—’

‘Bullying and staff intimidation are grounds enough in my book,’ Rio said coldly, ‘and that’s just the beginning. I have a full report on my desk, which includes recommendations on staffing. Your name appears on almost every page. Do you want me to go on?’

Tina gulped and opened her mouth but no sound came out.

Without a flicker of expression on his face, Rio opened the door wider. ‘That’s it,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You can go now. And on your way out ask someone to come and remove this Christmas tree. While I’m staying here, I don’t want to know it’s Christmas. Am I understood? No baubles, no berries, no tree, no tinsel.’

One by one, they shot past him and Tina paused, clearly panicking about her future. ‘What about Evelyn? She’s the cause of all this. She should be removed from the premises.’

Rio, who had been rapidly formulating a backup strategy since ‘whiter than white’ had exploded into the ether, sent her a look that had her scurrying out of the door.

Strolling back to the bathroom, he stared with brooding concentration at the closed door.

Wholesome.

The problem might just turn out to be the solution, he mused.

‘All right, Sleeping Beauty. I’ve slain your dragon. You can come out now.’

CHAPTER THREE

He’d fired Tina!

With her ear pressed to the smooth wood of the door, Evie listened with her mouth open, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Afraid to make a sound in case he realised she’d been eavesdropping, she tiptoed away from the door and leaned her burning cheek against the cool marble wall of the bathroom, her knees weak and shaking.

He’d seen right through Tina and fired her on the spot. Obviously, the rumours about him being super-bright were true. All right, so he was ruthless and wasn’t afraid to axe jobs, but still—maybe he wasn’t so bad…

Still in shock, Evie let out a long breath. She felt as though she should feel sorry for Tina, but it was hard to feel sorry for someone who created an atmosphere of intimidation. She remembered the threats, both spoken and unspoken, the way she transformed confident staff into doubting, apologetic wrecks. Since her demotion to housekeeping, Evie had mopped up more tears than she had floors.

Had he heard the rumours? Was that what he’d meant by seeing Tina’s name on every page of his report?

Who else was on his list to be fired?

Realising that she had to be right at the top, Evie closed her eyes.

There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to be next and she didn’t even care any more. All she cared about was that stupid, horrid photograph. Perhaps she ought to ring Cedar Court and ask the staff to make sure that her grandfather didn’t see any newspapers or television.

But her grandfather loved his newspaper. He did the crossword every day.

If they banned it, he’d just want to know why.

Hyperventilating again, Evie clutched the edge of the washbasin and forced herself to breathe steadily.

She’d thought life couldn’t get much worse, but suddenly it was a million times more disastrous.

Her grandfather would panic if he knew she’d lost her job and had nowhere to live, but it was nothing to what he’d do when he saw pictures of her naked and kissing a stranger. She could just imagine what Mrs Fitzwilliam would make of that. I hear your precious little Evie has turned into a bit of a goer—

‘You have ten seconds to come out of that bathroom.’

The deep male voice held sufficient authority to confirm all Evie’s darkest suspicions about his intentions. He was obviously dealing with his problems with the brutal efficiency for which he was famed, and she was the next problem on his list. The worst was still to come.

She looked round desperately, searching for an escape. Apart from flushing herself down the toilet or trying to squeeze down the plughole, there was no way out of this bathroom.

Why, oh, why, had she taken up creepy Carlos’s suggestion of sleeping in the Penthouse? Why hadn’t she followed her initial instinct that it was a bad idea? And why had Rio Zaccarelli decided to arrive at the hotel early when the rest of London was asleep? The man obviously was a machine.