Page 7 of Italian’s Christmas Acquisition

She walked into the entry room and stopped at the foot of the stairs. She could see a large, masculine hand on the railing, and she knew. The moment she saw those blunt fingers, she knew. Ridiculous, because the only other time she’d seen him he was wearing gloves.

But then he came into view, and there was no question. Rocco Moretti had somehow spent the night in this house last night.

“Good morning.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a guest in this establishment.”

“It was booked,” she said.

“Yes. It was. But I decided that I wanted to stay here, so I did.”

“How?”

“I made arrangements.”

She knew a sudden feeling of trepidation. She was snowed in with this man. Alone.

She was an innkeeper and she’d never thought too terribly much about guests and her safety or anything like that. She probably should have. But she’d grown up here and it had been an entirely safe situation one hundred percent of the time so she’d never worried.

Right now the whole room felt smaller. The whole house, the whole mountain. She looked at him and she shivered and it wasn’t quite like fear. It was something she’d never really experienced before. A tension that filled her lungs and her limbs and made her feel like she might leap completely out of her skin.

“What arrangements exactly did you make?”

“I asked the girl who works at registration to give me the contact info for the guests who had booked rooms for the night.”

“She can’t do that. There’s privacy and—”

“And they were entirely happy to take my alternative offer. Particularly when I told them that there was a plumbing issue at the bed-and-breakfast.”

“And why did you tell them that?”

“Because I wanted to say here. I may have gone overboard.”

“In what sense?”

“Well. I didn’t have to buy out every room. But I did.”

“I... I don’t understand...”

“I offered the guests a refund, and then offered them free accommodation at my resorts in Jackson.”

“Jackson!”

“Yes. They were happy to take the offer. The rooms are much more expensive than yours.”

“How were you able to offer my guests a refund?”

“Well, I didn’t give them a refund. I gave them money from my bank account. So the truth is, you will be paid twice. By them, and by me. I think you will find that to be satisfactory.”

“I... Are you telling me that you’re the only one here?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s... That’s psychotic, you realize that, right?”

“What is psychotic about it? What I wanted was to be in control of this interaction.”

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