Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. Susan Meier

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Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas - Susan Meier Mills & Boon True Love

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snow. All the feelings from the day before came tumbling back. Her attraction. Their small talk. Laughing together.

      Close enough to kiss him, she fought the magnetic pull that tried to lure her in, but it was her mistrust that fluttered away. Before she’d known who he was, she’d told Nick about needing to move to Topeka and he’d told her that his family owned a money management firm and he’d had a rebellious streak.

      They’d formed a connection and she felt it again, as clearly as if they were still in the diner.

      She stepped back, trying to get rid of it and the fears that rushed at her when she realized where she was and why. It didn’t work. All her worries tumbled out, even as the sense of connection to Nick held on.

      “All I can think about is being embarrassed or scared when it’s announced that I’m an heir. Doing something stupid, making a fool of myself—”

      He stopped her by putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. And as for being scared, from the couple of hours I’ve known you, I can tell you’re strong. You can do this.”

      His dark eyes had sharpened with a strength that sent a shot of attraction from her chest to her toes. This was the Nick she’d made a connection with. The nice guy. The guy she’d liked.

      She had to swallow before she could say, “Okay.”

      He took her elbow and directed her toward the building. She swore heat from his touch seeped through her worn leather jacket and to her skin. She didn’t know what it was about him that seemed to draw her in, but whatever it was, it was powerful.

      A tiny part of her whispered that her feelings were right. That she could trust him. That she should trust him.

      She really wanted to believe that, especially walking up to a building with so many floors jutting up to the sky she couldn’t count them, fancy pillars carved into the exterior walls and a sophisticated medallion resting over the entry like a royal crest.

      When they reached the revolving door, her knees wobbled and she was grateful for Nick’s hand at her elbow. He released her when they stepped into a lobby with marble floors and red and white poinsettias scattered about. No plastic wreaths. No gaudy ornaments. No blinking lights. Just tasteful flowers. And twenty or thirty people dressed as sophisticatedly as Nick.

      Her thoughts scrambled again. He only touched her when she needed help, barely spoke, had ignored her on the plane. He might be the guy from the diner, but he wasn’t always nice. He had a job to do—get her to New York—and he was doing it.

      She had to stop imagining good things about him.

      They walked past a bank of elevators to another row hidden around a corner. These elevators had keypads and Nick had to punch in a series of numbers on the third one for the doors to open.

      A man in a power suit came out of the second elevator, followed by a woman in a pencil skirt and silky blouse, visible because her fancy wool coat was unbuttoned. Like people on a mission, they bounded around the corner and off to parts unknown.

      She sucked in a long breath, straightened her old jacket and smoothed her hand along the high collar of her turtleneck, hoping it looked newer than it was. Because, man, she was seriously underdressed.

      When they stepped out of the elevator into an office, she didn’t just think it. She knew it. A wall of glass behind the desk displayed a view of Manhattan that made her breath stutter. The buildings looked close enough to touch. And with so much glass surrounding the room she felt like she was walking on air.

      A short, slender woman opened the door on the far left and peeked inside. “Hey, Nick. Could you come into my office for a second?”

      Nick glanced at Leni and she forced a smile. “I’m fine. Maybe I’ll go over to the window and try to see inside the office across the street.”

      Nick stifled a laugh, but just barely. Leni had to be the most naturally funny, most open person he’d ever met. He couldn’t help comforting her when she’d admitted how afraid she was, but he’d kept his solace short and simple. Because in another ten minutes, he’d be back on that elevator, heading for his own office. His favor for his friend completed. His sanity restored.

      He followed Danny’s assistant, Mary Catherine, into her office. She pointed at the phone on her desk. “I have Mr. Manelli on the line.”

      Confusion stopped him where he was. “On the line? He was supposed to be here waiting for us.”

      She skirted her desk and headed for the hallway. “Why don’t you let him explain?”

      When she was gone, Nick picked up the receiver of the desk phone and said, “Where the hell are you?”

      “Stuck in court. Remember the trial I told you I would be getting a continuance on? The reason I needed you to be the one to retrieve Elenore Long instead of me? Well, the judge didn’t go for the continuance. I’m stuck here.”

      “Stuck there?”

      “The judge thinks there’s no reason to postpone a trial that won’t last more than a few days. It’s corporate stuff. Everybody’s prepared to the max. It will take a day or two to get through it.”

      “Why are you telling me this?”

      “Because we can’t let Elenore Long sit alone in a hotel room this afternoon, tonight and all day tomorrow.”

      “Danny, I agreed to do this favor for you mostly because Mark was my friend and I knew how he felt about his kids’ safety. But that was it.”

      “That was all I needed when I called you on Saturday, but through no fault of mine, things changed. That’s life. You remember life? If something can go wrong, it usually does.”

      Understanding that a little better than Danny knew, Nick blew his breath out on a frustrated sigh. “What about Jace? He’s the bodyguard. He should be with her. Not me.”

      “Jace had an emergency come up. He and most of his men are on their way to El Salvador.”

      He gaped at the phone. “El Salvador!”

      “Yep. So, we’re down to you. You know all the information about the identity of the heirs and potential heirs has to be kept as quiet as possible. The fewer people who know, the less chance someone will accidentally slip a name to their wife or girlfriend. Besides, you’re the most closed-mouthed person I know.”

      “I’m not a bodyguard!”

      “You don’t need to be. As long as no one knows who she is, she’s just another New York tourist.”

      “And what the hell do I do with her for the next day...or two?”

      Danny’s voice lifted with hope. “Anything you want. New York’s a big city. As long as you stay away from talking about the estate, you could very easily entertain her for a week.”

      “A week!”

      “Tops. I swear.”

      Nick squeezed his eyes shut. “You owe me.”

      “Big

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