Hot Christmas Nights: Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding / His for Revenge / Mistletoe Not Required. Anne Oliver
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Hot Christmas Nights: Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding / His for Revenge / Mistletoe Not Required - Anne Oliver страница 12
‘And my driver will take you wherever you want to go.’
Cassie shook her head. This was awful—just awful—this self-conscious chit-chat as if what had happened during the night hadn’t happened at all. As if she hadn’t been writhing beneath him while his mouth had explored hers with a sweet passion. ‘No, honestly—I’m going to work and it’s not far. And the walk will do me good,’ she finished.
Their eyes met during a silence which grew in awkwardness by the moment—and yet what on earth could she say to break it? wondered Cassie desperately. Especially when the only words on her lips were ones of bittersweet regret that she should have allowed herself to get so carried away and to have lost her virginity to a man who clearly regretted taking it.
‘I’ll ring you,’ he said slowly.
Cassie nodded. But she knew with a horrible aching certainty that he never would. He’d got what he’d wanted and now it was perfectly plain that he couldn’t wait to get away. She fixed what she hoped was a nonchalant smile on her lips, because she was all out of bright and breezy responses. And she didn’t dare move. He might have encouraged her to act with uninhibited pleasure in his arms countless times throughout the night—but no way was she going to walk naked across the room in front of him.
Maybe he sensed her discomfiture, because he left without another word. And once she heard the sound of the front door slamming shut, Cassie quickly got out of bed and made use of the en-suite bathroom, her mind too full to register the unfamiliar luxury which awaited her there.
At least she felt marginally better once she’d showered—even though it was no fun putting on the same clothes and underwear—but at least she wore a uniform at work and she could nip out in her lunch-hour and buy another pair of pants.
The morning was winter at its most beautiful—the sky icy-blue and the frost in the park coating every blade of grass with a layer of ice-white. She tried to count her blessings. To tell herself that it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that she would never forget and that she would soon get over it. Well, there was nothing much to get over, was there?
Was it her imagination, or did the usually friendly doorman in front of the glossy gold and claret façade which was Hudson’s look at her rather oddly—or was she getting paranoid? Just because she had probably made the biggest mistake of her life—didn’t mean that she had to start imagining things.
Taking the lift down to the basement, she went towards the changing rooms but before she could push the door open two figures stepped forward to bar her way. A man and a woman—both wearing familiar dark blue uniforms and curiously forbidding expressions. Cassie started. Hudson’s security staff? What were they doing here and why the hell were they looking at her like that? She felt her mouth grow dry with nameless fear.
‘Cassandra Summers?’ said one of them.
‘Is…something wrong?’ she stumbled as the woman took a pen from her pocket and looked Cassie straight in the eye.
‘Cassandra Summers? Would you like to come with us?’
‘What’s happened?’ she demanded.
‘You have been accused of fraud. And I’m afraid that there’s the potential of police involvement—’
‘No!’ Cassie’s denial cut across the official-sounding words—expecting them to suddenly start laughing. To say that they’d been put up to it by one of her colleagues and that it was nothing more than a practical joke. But their expressions were deadly serious. Staring into their stony faces, she began to tremble uncontrollably as she realised that this was no joke.
‘No!’ she whispered. ‘Please…there must have been some kind of terrible mistake!’
GIANCARLO’s cell-phone flashed an incoming call and he frowned when he saw the name which flashed up on the screen.
Cassandra.
His frown deepened. It was barely an hour since he’d seen her and hadn’t he said he’d call her, even if he hadn’t really meant it at the time? Even if just the thought of plunging into that luscious curvy body could send his blood pressure soaring.
But he had been busy appeasing his conscience—telling himself that it would be better for her if he just let things drift. Because the last thing an innocent like Cassie needed was to get herself involved with a man with a track record as a heartbreaker. She’d soon be going back home to Cornwall and the Christmas holidays would take her mind off things. And maybe it was better not to get her hopes up by beginning an affair which had no future.
Then snapshot images of blonde hair and pale curves clicked into his memory with aching clarity and, quickly, he lifted the phone.
‘Cassandra?’ he said, instinctively registering alarm as a barely recognisable voice started pouring out words which made no sense at all. Words like ‘fraud’ and ‘security’. ‘Cassandra, is that you? For God’s sake—calm down! I can’t understand a word you’re saying. What’s going on and where are you?’
‘I’ve been h-hauled off by security staff at the store!’ she stumbled. ‘They’ve s-said that I might want to get myself a lawyer.’
‘Lawyer?’ he thundered.
‘Yes! There’s been the most terrible mix-up—and it’s looking serious. Really serious. Giancarlo, r-remember those c-andles you bought…’
He cut right through her blustering hysteria. ‘Don’t say another word. I’m coming right over,’ he said grimly.
His chauffeur drove him straight round to Hudson’s, where he demanded to speak to the store manager, who led him to a private room in the bowels of the building where he found Cassie, her face all red and blotchy with tears. A slow fury began to rise inside him as she lifted her face towards his, like a mouse caught in a trap.
‘Ah, this must be your lawyer,’ said the female security guard, her fingertips automatically touching her hair.
In the midst of her misery, Cassie watched as Giancarlo strode into the room, thinking how strong he looked—and how formidable. Thank God he was here, she thought fervently before blinking in confusion. Her lawyer? Her eyes asked him a question but he gave a barely imperceptible shake of his head.
‘Hello, Cassandra,’ he said. ‘Do you want to tell me what’s been going on?’
The sound of his voice broke through the emotional barriers she had erected since this whole unbelievable scenario had taken place—an emotional state made more acute by the way she’d spent the previous night. She felt them topple down now, leaving her helpless and vulnerable as she looked up into the obdurate features of his dark face. ‘Oh, Giancarlo,’ she whispered, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks once more. ‘They say I’m a thief!’
Leaning over to press a pristine handkerchief into her palm, Giancarlo turned and fixed the general manager with a blistering look. ‘Would you mind telling me what’s going on?’