Page 41 of Twelve Nights of Nights of Christmas

Her stomach lurched and she felt sick with apprehension.

This was it. This was the moment she’d been dreading. This was the reason for the charade.

Had they printed that horribly revealing photograph?

Was that why he was on the telephone?

Hardly daring to look, she sank onto the sofa and stared at the newspaper on top of the pile, forcing herself to breathe slowly. It was one of the tabloids. If anyone had printed the picture of her naked, surely it would be them. Her hand shaking, she reached out and lifted it onto her lap. The headlines blurred and suddenly she didn’t want to look, as if postponing the moment could alter the outcome. ‘Calma, tesoro. It’s all right.’ His voice was deep and firm. ‘They printed a lovely picture of you with your arms around my neck. The caption is “Tycoon tumbles” or something equally unimaginative. I expect your grandfather will be satisfied with it.’

What did he mean by that? ‘So you were right.’ Even though he’d reassured her, her fingers were damp with sweat as she forced herself to turn the pages. ‘Because we gave them another photo opportunity and a bigger story, they used that instead. Thank you.’ The relief was almost painful. ‘Thank you so much.’ Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if they’d used that photograph. I’m so grateful to you.’

A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘You have no reason to be grateful to me, Evie.’

‘Yes, I have. It was your idea to give them a better story. I would have tried to pay them off and that never would have worked because I suppose they would have just kept coming back for more money.’

He drew his hand over the back of his neck and she saw the muscles in his forearm flex, revealing a tension she didn’t understand. ‘Evie—’

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she said hastily. ‘I do realise that this is just one day and that they could use that photograph tomorrow, but I’m not going to think about that now. We’ll take it a day at a time. Maybe we can make sure they take another photograph of us tonight. Keep giving them something else to print. I promise not to dance on the table again, no matter how Christmassy I feel. What are our plans?’

He didn’t answer immediately and she turned her attention back to the newspaper, turning the pages until she found the photograph. ‘It’s big. I had no idea they’d be that interested.’ And she saw instantly why he’d made that comment about her grandfather liking the photograph. She was in Rio’s arms, smiling up at him, looking completely smitten. No one looking at that picture would have questioned the authenticity of their relationship. A strange feeling twisted in the pit of her stomach. Was that really the way she’d looked at him? Had he noticed? ‘We look good. They were obviously convinced.’

‘Champagne certainly brings out an interesting side to you,’ he drawled softly and she glanced up to find his eyes on her face.

‘I really wasn’t drunk.’

‘But you were a virgin.’

Fire rose in her cheeks and she sat in silence for a moment, trying to find the right response. ‘So what?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Was that the reason for his tension? Was it simply the fact that she was so much less experienced than him? ‘Well, it isn’t exactly something that comes up in conversation,’ she said lightly, ‘and I don’t see that it matters. You wanted someone wholesome. If the press choose to dig around in my past they won’t find anything. Isn’t that what you wanted?’ She kept noticing small things about him—like the bold curve of his eyebrows and the cluster of dark hairs revealed by the open neck of his shirt. Knowing what she knew now, she could easily picture the rest of his body—his chest shadowed with the same dark hair, concealing well defined muscle and breathtaking power. Knowing what she knew, everything was different. More sharply defined, more acutely felt.

The unspoken sexual component to their relationship had been there from the first moment they’d met but it had been enhanced a thousand times by the intimacies they’d shared in the flickering glow of firelight.

‘You told me you were engaged.’

‘I was.’

‘But you didn’t have a physical relationship?’ His tone was incredulous.

‘If you saw the house where I grew up, you wouldn’t find it so surprising.’ Evie pushed her hair away from her face with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. ‘I was all set to go to university, but after my grandmother died I couldn’t bear to leave my grandfather on his own. I got a job in the village and went to night school to study languages. Jeff and I started dating because we were the only two people under fifty in the village. There was no way I was going to have sex in Grandpa’s house. Even if it had been possible, it wouldn’t have felt right.’

‘Presumably, you didn’t conduct your entire relationship with your grandfather looking on. There must have been some moments when you were alone.’

‘Yes, I suppose there were—’ Evie hesitated. ‘But neither of us…we didn’t really… Honestly, I think we were just friends. We should never have been anything else but I think we were swept along by the expectations of everyone around us.’

‘Friends?’ His dark brows locked in a puzzled frown and she smiled, thinking how much she’d learned about him in such a short time.

‘I bet you’ve never been friends with a woman in your life, have you?’

‘If by “friends” you mean no sex, then the answer is no. So you were engaged, but you never had sex.’

‘I don’t think either of us was in any hurry.’

‘You were in a hurry last night,’ he said silkily. ‘Or was the champagne to blame for your sudden transformation from virgin to vamp?’

She sucked in a breath, mortified at his blatant reminder of her own desperation. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘It was you.’