Chapter Five
DRAGGING her aching limbs into the Penthouse suite, Evie toed off her shoes in relief and crumpled onto the rug. ‘How does anyone walk in these things?’ Staring up at the ceiling, she moved her toes gingerly. ‘I feel as though both my legs have been chewed by a shark.’
‘That is why you are lying on the floor?’ Rio paused in mid-text, his eyes bright with incredulity. ‘If you’re tired, lie on the sofa.’
‘I can’t make it that far. I may never walk again.’ Evie gave a long groan and flexed her sore feet. ‘I bet you’ve never tried to squash your feet into a torture device before. Who invented heels? The Spanish Inquisition?’
Rio pocketed his phone, scooped her up and deposited her on the sofa.
‘Oh—that’s better.’ Evie rolled on her side and closed her eyes, trying not to think about how his hands had felt on her skin. How strong he was.
‘Most women find shopping a pleasurable pastime.’
‘Yes, well, most women don’t have to buy an entire wardrobe after just three hours sleep, and most women aren’t shopping with you.
’ Yawning, Evie snuggled into the soft pile of cushions, twisting and turning to find a comfortable position.
‘You said “no” so many times I thought that poor stylist person was going to throw herself out of the window. I thought the objective was to have a high visibility shopping trip, not give some innocent woman a nervous breakdown.’
‘I was trying to achieve a compromise between “wholesome” and “sexy”, which proved to be something of a challenge.’
‘Why do I have to look sexy?’
‘Because it’s important that you look like someone I’d date.’
Squashed flat by that comment, Evie curled up in a ball.
‘Do you have any idea how insulting you are? Once in a while you could think about my feelings, otherwise I’m going to dump you long before this farce is supposed to end.
And it doesn’t really matter what the clothes look like, does it?
It isn’t as if we’re going anywhere.’ She glanced round the Penthouse, taking in the luxury.
Something seemed different about the place, but she couldn’t work out what.
‘You won’t even let me look out of the window in case someone takes my picture. ’
‘Astonishingly enough, I am thinking of you. It’s precisely because we are going out that I expended all that time and effort in making sure you had an appropriate wardrobe,’ he gritted.
‘Tonight you’re going to be walking down that red carpet with film stars and celebrities—I didn’t want you to feel out of place. ’
‘Red carpet? What red carpet?’ Evie shot upright. ‘You didn’t say anything about going out. I thought we were in hiding.’
‘We were creating gossip and speculation which, by tonight, will have spread sufficiently to ensure that if that photograph appears it will be taken as confirmation that we are seriously involved.’ Rio walked over to the desk and switched on his laptop.
‘We have to be seen out together which, unfortunately, means that tonight we have to attend a film premiere and a charity ball.’
‘Unfortunately? It’s unfortunate that we have to attend a film premiere and a charity ball?’ Assuming he was joking, Evie started to laugh and then she saw the tension in his shoulders and the grim expression on his handsome face and realised that he was serious. He didn’t want to go.
Her sudden excitement evaporated and she deflated like a balloon at a children’s party. Her brain scanned all the possible reasons for his dark, forbidding scowl. ‘You don’t want to be seen with me.’
‘Obviously I do,’ he said tightly, ‘given that it is the entire purpose of going.’
Evie sat with her back stiff, picking at her fingernails, telling herself that it was ridiculous to feel hurt by that comment. ‘I understand that you feel you have to do it. But the reason you don’t want to go is because you’re embarrassed to be seen out with me.’
‘I don’t want to go because I’m incredibly busy at the moment.’
Something about the way he held himself told her that he was lying. Whatever was wrong, it had nothing to do with his workload. ‘But we’re going anyway?’
‘Yes. We’ll show our faces and then leave.’ With a single tap of his finger, he brought a spreadsheet up on the screen. ‘Wear the silver dress.’
Shimmering silver, Evie thought absently. With swept-up hair.
She should have felt thrilled but instead she felt the most crushing disappointment. ‘What’s the point of making a fuss if we’re only going to stay five minutes?’ The fact that he wasn’t even looking at her increased her anger. ‘It’s hardly worth getting dressed, is it?’
‘A brief visit is perfectly normal at these things. There is no point in wasting a whole evening when our purpose can be achieved in a short space of time.’
There was a tension in the room that she didn’t understand. ‘What if your purpose is to enjoy yourself?’
He was frowning at the screen. ‘We’re talking about a throng of people, none of whom have the slightest interest in anyone but themselves and their own self-advancement. As it happens, I have a very specific reason for going to this particular ball—I need to speak to Vladimir Yartsev.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Don’t you read newspapers?’
Evie flushed. ‘Sometimes. When I’m not working.’
‘Vladimir Yartsev is a Russian oil oligarch. A very powerful man.’
‘But not as powerful as you.’
A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. ‘Different power.’
Evie curled her legs underneath her. ‘Alternative energy. Like fossil fuels versus a wind farm.’ Looking at the thin line of his mouth, she sighed. ‘Sorry. I forgot you don’t have a sense of humour. So this guy is going to be sitting at our table? I presume you want me to be extra-nice to him?’
‘That won’t be possible. He doesn’t speak much English and I doubt his interpreter will be there.’ Rio altered one of the figures on the spreadsheet. ‘I’m sure if you smile at him it won’t do any harm.’
His comment was so derogatory that she almost thumped him.
He made assumptions about people. Evie watched him, knowing that she was going to have the last laugh on this particular point.
‘I won’t need an interpreter. I’m good at communicating with people.
’ She was purposely vague. ‘So you’re hoping to meet up with this Vladimir guy—who else? Doesn’t anyone just go to have fun?’
‘They go to be seen. And at a charity ball they go to be seen spending money. It’s a game. I go because there are a few contacts I need to make. I have no doubt it will be boring.’
‘Thanks. So basically you’re saying that not only do I not look right, but I bore you. I can see we’re in for a great evening.’
‘I was talking about the other guests—’ his tone was thickened with exasperation ‘—but carry on like this and I’ll add you to the list. I’ve already told you—the reason I don’t stay long is because I can’t afford the time. I have work to do.’
All he did was work.
But he was taking her to a charity ball and a film premiere.
Evie felt a renewed flutter of excitement at the prospect of playing Cinderella for a night. ‘So we’re showing our faces at two events—but you have invites to loads more than that?’
‘I have seven invitations for this evening. I’ve picked the two most high profile.’ Showing no interest whatsoever in that fact, Rio focused on the screen. ‘Normally, a hostess would do her utmost to avoid a clash, but this is Christmas so it’s inevitable.’
Christmas.
Suddenly Evie realised what was different about the room. ‘Someone’s taken down all my decorations.’ Horrified, she sprang to her feet and glanced around her. ‘The tree has gone. And the holly—why would they have done that?’
‘Because I gave instructions that all the decorations should be removed.’
Already bruised from his previous comments, it was hard to keep her voice steady. ‘You didn’t like the decorations?’
‘No.’
She felt numb. ‘I took ages getting them exactly right. I thought you’d be pleased—’
‘I wasn’t pleased.’
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.