Page 43 of Twelve Nights of Nights of Christmas

‘Forget it.’ Rio shifted over her in a smooth movement, his weight pressing her into the mattress. ‘Yesterday they took photographs of you in the front row of the charity fashion show—they’ll use one of those. Not one of you naked.’

‘But you don’t know that for sure—’ She felt the sudden tension emanating from his powerful frame.

‘I do. You need to trust me.’

Reasoning that he knew a great deal more about the media than she did, Evie forced herself to relax. ‘OK. I trust you. But you do care, you know you do. That’s why we’re doing all this. You’re worried about your deal going through. Is that still all right? I mean—’ Suddenly she felt awkward asking. He didn’t talk about stuff, did he? ‘I know you don’t talk about it but you’re always on the phone and I can tell you’re stressed about it.’

‘I’m not stressed.’ Only moments before he’d been relaxed. Now he was frighteningly detached, his handsome face an expressionless mask. ‘And everything is fine.’

She shouldn’t have asked. ‘Good. Whatever it is must be worth a lot for you to care about it so much.’

‘Yes. It’s worth a lot.’ Without warning, he sprang from the bed and prowled towards the bathroom. ‘I’m going to take a shower. Order yourself some breakfast.’

His casual dismissal chilled her and Evie pulled the duvet over her naked body, feeling vulnerable and exposed. One minute they were incredibly close—the next, he shut her out.

Listening to the sound of the shower, she wondered what it was about this particular deal that was so important to him. She wished again she’d never raised the subject. Why was he so touchy? Was he worrying about it, or was it just that he didn’t like talking about it?

She used the second bathroom to shower and change and was relieved when he joined her for breakfast.

Watching him cautiously, gauging his mood, Evie helped herself to a bowl of fruit. ‘I checked the papers. You were right—they printed the photo from the fashion show.’

He poured himself a coffee. ‘And what was the headline?’

Evie blushed. ‘Something stupid.’ She wondered if he minded the media preoccupation with his love life but Rio simply smiled.

‘The world appears to be revelling in my rapid and extremely public conversion from never to forever. We’re obviously very convincing, tesoro.’

Captivated by that smile, Evie felt her breath catch and her heart gave a dangerous lurch. They were so convincing that she was starting to believe it herself. If it weren’t for his occasional moments of icy detachment, it would have been frighteningly easy to forget that this wasn’t real. That some day soon he was going to expect her to dump him.

Reminding herself to live in the moment, she ate a spoonful of fruit. ‘We’d better make sure we give them something even more interesting to photograph today then. What are we doing tonight?’

‘We have been invited by the Russians to watch a performance of the Bolshoi Ballet at the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden.’

‘Wow.’ Evie licked her spoon. ‘I’ve never been to the ballet. That’s really exciting!’

‘Is it? I confess that men in tights don’t excite me one little bit.’ Rio rose to his feet as his phone rang. ‘But, given that you’re their new best friend and you speak fluent Russian, I’m sure we can make some use of the evening. Excuse me—I need to take this.’

‘Of course.’ Basking in the heady knowledge that she was useful to him, Evie felt a rush of pleasure that lasted through the day and the evening. She adored the ballet, was in awe of the elegant grandeur of the world famous Opera House and enjoyed acting as interpreter.

Vladimir was as charming to her as ever, but it was Rio who drew her attention. Cocooned in the private box, under the protection of darkness, she found herself looking at him every other second, her eyes drawn to the perfect symmetry of his arrogant features, fatally fascinated by the breathtaking power and masculinity stamped in every angle of his body.

Once, he caught her looking and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Evie simply smiled, relieved to be able to hide her fascination behind the charade of their ‘relationship’. That was what she was supposed to do, wasn’t it? She was supposed to look.

Again, the photographers were out in force, stealing photographs at every opportunity, but Evie felt nothing but relief because she knew by now that, providing they managed to get an interesting shot, they were unlikely to use the one she dreaded appearing.

They went from the ballet to another ball and this time Rio needed no persuasion to dance with her. His hand was warm on her bare back as they moved together, the rhythm of their bodies perfectly in tune after so many hours spent locked in intimacy.

‘You’re not singing tonight?’ He murmured the words against her lips and Evie reminded herself that it was essential to breathe or she’d fall over. But, when he held her like this, she felt as though everything inside her was suspended.

No wonder no woman had ever dumped him.

He was so insanely gorgeous, who in their right mind would not want to be with him?

‘No singing. They’ve already had that picture.’ Her arms were locked around his neck and she could feel the heat of his body against hers. ‘Grandpa liked it, by the way—he said it reminded him of last year when I did the same thing at the village hall.’

‘You danced on the table?’

‘No—fortunately, they didn’t have champagne.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I’d love to do something really Christmassy. Can we go ice skating? I really envied those people skating when we were at the ball. Or maybe we could go and sing Christmas carols. I noticed an invitation for a celebrity carol concert at St Paul’s Cathedral—are we going to that? I know you see Christmas as nothing more than an interruption in your working day, but I love this time of year.’