Christmas Seduction: The Twelve Nights of Christmas / His Christmas Acquisition / Caroselli's Christmas Baby. Michelle Celmer

      So she looked wrong, she was boring, and now he was saying she was useless at her job. It was the final straw.

      Rio glanced up. ‘While I’m staying here, I don’t want to know it’s Christmas.’ His eyes were molten black and menacing. ‘I don’t want to see a single decoration. Is that clear?’

      ‘Yes. It’s perfectly clear.’ Her voice high-pitched; deeply offended that he’d criticised her work, Evie stalked into the bedroom, yanking the doors closed behind her.

      Her confidence in shreds, she leaned back against the doors.

      Miserable, horrible, vile man.

      Chemistry? Yes, there was chemistry—but she wished it was the sort that would result in some sort of explosive reaction that would blast him out of her life. He made her feel small. He made her feel useless and insignificant. Apparently she couldn’t even decorate a Christmas tree to his satisfaction.

      She stood for a moment, breathing deeply, horribly hurt by his dismissive comments. In a few sentences he’d shredded her fragile self-confidence.

      With a sniff, she tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. Why should she care what he thought? So he hated her decorations. So what? The man was a cold hearted workaholic.

      Fancy going to all this trouble just so that he didn’t lose out on a stupid business deal.

      He made Scrooge look like a cheerleader.

      What sort of man would rather work than enjoy a night at a glittering Christmas ball? Did he think his entire business was going to fall apart or something?

      Trying not to be hurt by the fact that he clearly wanted to spend as little time as possible in her company, Evie wrenched off the jacket that went with her ‘wholesome’ dress and flung it over the nearest chair.

      Feeling miserable and unappreciated, she undressed and slipped under the covers, wanting to blot out her unhappiness with a much needed afternoon nap. As she closed her eyes she reminded herself that she was doing this so that her grandfather wouldn’t be hurt and embarrassed. No other reason.

      Once all the fuss had died down, she’d give Rio Zaccarelli the boot. Or should that be ‘the stiletto’?

      Either way, she was seriously looking forward to that day.

      Rio fastened the sleeves of his dress shirt. Normally he relished the challenge of a difficult situation. On this occasion the stakes were too high to make the whole issue anything other than stressful. Adding an evening of Christmas celebrations into that mix simply increased the stress.

       Get it over with.

      There was no sound of activity from the bedroom and Rio wondered whether he should have checked on Evie. She’d been in there all day and they were supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes. Was she still asleep?

      Or was she still sulking over the Christmas decorations?

      He was just walking towards the bedroom doors when they opened suddenly.

      ‘Don’t say a word. Not a word.’ A dangerous glint in her blue eyes, she stalked barefoot across the carpet. A pair of silver shoes dangled from her fingers. ‘Every time you open your mouth you say something nasty so, unless red eyes are the latest “must have” accessory on the celebrity circuit, then it’s safer if you say nothing.’

      Rio was pleased she’d instructed him to say nothing because, for once, the power of speech appeared to have deserted him. He’d been present when she’d tried on the dress—he’d approved it—but clearly he hadn’t devoted his full attention to the task because he had no memory of it looking quite this good. Or maybe it was because he’d seen the dress in daylight and it was definitely designed to dazzle at night.

      The fabric sparkled with every turn of her body and the effect was incredible—it was as if she were illuminated, each sensuous curve lit up and accentuated by the shimmering fabric. Her hair she’d scooped up and secured to the back of her head with silver clips, the slightly haphazard style both kooky and sexy.

      ‘You look incredible.’

      ‘Wholesome?’

      He ignored the sarcasm in her tone. ‘Sexy and wholesome. It’s an intriguing combination. It would look even more effective if you could stop glaring at me.’

      ‘I’ll stop glaring at you when we’re in public.’ She was as prickly as a porcupine. ‘Our deal doesn’t include having to like each other, does it?’

      Rio clenched his jaw. ‘If I offended you, then I apologise.’

      ‘If? There is no if, Rio. Of course you offended me! You criticised my work and then you criticised me. You’re trying to turn me into a clone of the type of woman you date and then you get irritated when I’m not doing things right.’

      ‘That isn’t true, but—’

      ‘No!’ She lifted her hand like a policeman stopping traffic. ‘Don’t say anything else. You’re incapable of speaking without being offensive.’

      Unaccustomed to having to work so hard with a woman, Rio drew in a long, slow breath. ‘It’s snowing outside and that dress has no back to it. You’ll need something to keep you warm—’ He handed her a large flat box and she looked at him suspiciously before taking it with a frown.

      ‘Now what? A cloak with a hood so that you can cover my face? A—oh—’ she gasped, and then her face lost its colour and she dropped the box containing the snowy-white fur onto the carpet. ‘I can’t wear that. I won’t wear fur.’

      ‘It isn’t real.’ Wondering whether every interaction was going to result in confrontation, Rio stooped and retrieved it. ‘It’s fake.’

      Evie stood with her hands behind her back. ‘You’re sure?’

      ‘Positive.’ He draped it around her shoulders. Her skin was warm and smooth against the backs of his fingers and he felt the immediate flash of chemistry. Her breathing was shallow and fast and for a moment she stood rigid, a faint bloom of colour lifting the pallor of her cheeks.

      ‘Is that what you do when you offend someone? You buy them an extravagant gift rather than say sorry? Does it work?’

      ‘You tell me. Your hair looks amazing against the white fur.’ He saw the pulse beating in her throat and knew that she was feeling exactly what he was feeling.

      ‘Don’t think that just because I’m wearing this, I’ve forgiven you. I can’t be bought.’

      A woman who couldn’t be bought.

      Rio gave a faint smile at that concept.

      ‘It does feel gorgeous against bare skin.’ She wriggled her shoulders in an unconsciously seductive movement that sent his libido into overdrive.

      Incredibly aroused, he drew her against him. ‘You could remove the dress,’ he suggested silkily, ‘and just wear the fur.’ Even without touching his fingers to her wrist, he knew her pulse was racing and Rio saw something in her eyes seconds before she looked away. Desire. Programmed to identify that look, he was about to suggest that the fur would be comfortable to lie on, when she shoved at his chest.

      ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you? We’re supposed to be stopping the photo looking sleazy and all you want to do is stay in and make the whole situation even tackier. Or is this deal suddenly not important to you?’

      Rio froze, horrified by the realisation that for a few precious seconds his mind had been wiped of every thought except for one and that was the erotic possibilities of fur against Evie’s pale skin. ‘You’re right. Let’s go.’ Seriously disconcerted by the fact that she was so together while he was locked in the savage grip of rampaging hormones, he faced the lowering fact that, had she not stopped him, he would have tumbled her onto the rug in front of the fire and followed his