Page 3 of Cinderella's Christmas Secret

‘But it isn’t Christmas,’ he pointed out. ‘Not for weeks.’

‘Yes, I know. But the holiday always puts people in a good mood. And everywhere looks better with a few decorations and a Christmas tree.’

‘I must beg to differ,’ he commented, shooting a disparaging gaze at the glittering fir with its flashing fairy lights, which was nudging the hotel ceiling. He studied the fake presents he could see piled up at the base and couldn’t repress a shudder. ‘It looks monstrous.’

She hesitated again. ‘You sound as if you don’t like Christmas?’

‘Something of an understatement,’ he returned coolly. ‘If you want the truth, I loathe it.’

‘Oh. Right. Well, that’s a shame,’ she said and he could see her biting her lip as she struggled to think of a suitably compensatory response. ‘In that case, would you like a glass of bubbly? There’s plenty over on the bar—I can easily go and fetch you one.’

He could just imagine the quality of wine on offer but something about her worried expression made Maximo bite back the acerbic response which was hovering on his lips. Suddenly he realised it wasn’t fair to take his mood out on her. For him, this party was nothing more than a social necessity—an opportunity to meet the local officials who would help facilitate his ambitious plans. It certainly wasn’t what he’d call a pleasure, and she was only doing her job, after all.

And then that first faint flicker of recognition crystallised into something more solid, which made him examine her face more closely, because the dark-lashed beauty of her grey eyes had stirred more than a vague memory.

‘Don’t I know you?’ he questioned suddenly.

She wriggled her milky shoulders a little awkwardly. ‘You don’t exactly know me, Signor Diaz,’ she said. ‘We’ve met a few times when you’ve been into the office. I work in the estate agency you’re using to purchase the castle. I’m usually—’

‘Sitting behind a desk. Sí, sí—of course, I remember,’ he said, for hadn’t she been an oasis of calm during his recent purchase, and as unlike her abrasive and predatory boss as it was possible to be? She’d made him coffee and served him with something delicious to accompany it. But usually her clothes were unremarkable and her thick hair always scraped back in a style so severe, he imagined even a nun might shun it as unflattering. He remembered thinking that if he were planning on moving his business here, she might make the perfect secretary, and perhaps he would have poached her and paid her twice as much as she was currently earning.

He’d had no idea that beneath her drab clothes was a body which was little short of sensational and he was finding it unexpectedly difficult to reconcile these two dramatically different images of the same woman. ‘So why the sudden change of role—and the sudden change of outfit?’

‘I know. It’s awful, isn’t it?’ she whispered, her stricken gaze glancing down at the clashing colours of red and green.

‘I don’t know if that’s the word I would have chosen,’ he answered carefully. ‘I think it suits you, if you want the truth.’

‘Seriously?’ She looked surprised and then shyly delighted.

And wasn’t it strange how her obvious self-consciousness was playing sudden havoc with Maximo’s senses? The way she was biting her bottom lip was drawing his attention to the cushion of pink flesh which curved so sweetly into a shy smile. Her mouth suddenly looked very inviting. And extremely kissable. Bizarre. He shook his head, reminding himself that there were plenty of women more suitable as recipients of his desire than an office junior in fancy dress. ‘Are you moonlighting?’

‘You could say that.’

She lowered her voice again so he had to lean closer to hear her, and as he did he caught the faint drift of her scent and wondered how something so light and delicate could smell so unbelievably provocative. ‘The waitress who’d been hired to do this let them down at the last minute,’ she confided. ‘And I was asked to—’

‘Ah! There you are, Maximo! Hiding away in the shadows, like some dashing conquistador!’

A shrill voice crashed into their conversation and Maximo looked up to see Janette James bearing down on them, her body language managing to be both sinuous yet determined at the same time. She wore a look on her face which he’d seen the first time he’d walked into her estate agency and every time since. It was an expression he’d encountered many times during his life, but especially from middle-aged divorcees.

‘I do hope Hollie has been looking after you?’ she was saying. ‘I’m sure she has, judging by the amount of time she’s been standing here.’ She fluttered him another predatory smile before turning to the hapless waitress by his side. ‘But there are other people in the room, Hollie dear, tempting as it must be to monopolise Señor Diaz. People who are very hungry. So run along, will you? The mayor keeps glancing in your direction and he looks as if he could murder a s

ausage roll.’

Hollie nodded, aware of Maximo Diaz’s burning black gaze on her as she moved away and that the high heels were making her hips sway in a way she hoped wasn’t drawing attention to her bottom. Finding the mayor waiting, she kept her smile intact as he popped an entire sausage roll into his mouth, and thought about what her boss had said. Had she been guilty of monopolising the Spaniard? Maybe she had. She’d certainly been transfixed by him. Lulled by the timbre of his richly accented voice, she had been unable to tear her eyes away from his darkly beautiful face. But for once it had been a two-way street, because tonight she sensed that she had captured his complete attention. Instead of flicking her his usual dismissive glance, he had been openly staring at her and talking to her and listening to her as if her opinion actually mattered.

Had she been gaping at him like a stranded fish in response to that and drinking in all that powerful mastery instead of ‘working the room’ as Janette had told her to? She turned her head and watched other people moving towards him, as if they too were being magnetised by all that unashamed masculinity.

‘Good-looking fellow, isn’t he?’ observed the mayor wryly, noting the direction of her gaze as he reached for a second sausage roll. ‘I’ve noticed every woman in the room can’t seem to stop staring at him.’

Hollie winced. And she had been as guilty as the rest! She had drooled over him like some teenager at a pop concert.

‘I guess everyone’s interested because he’s about to become a local landowner.’

‘You think so? Wouldn’t have anything to do with the size of his wallet or the fact that he looks like an old-fashioned matinee idol, would it?’

‘Of course not,’ she said primly, quickly excusing herself to continue her elfish duties with renewed fervour, in an attempt to redeem herself in her boss’s eyes. She dispensed the gradually wilting selection left on her tray, topped up glasses and tried to keep busy, but, irritatingly, her thoughts kept flitting back to the man with the black eyes who was currently being monopolised by the local member of parliament. Maximo Diaz had unsettled her and made her feel distinctly disorientated because when he’d looked at her that way, she’d felt...

It was difficult to describe but she’d felt different. As if she weren’t Hollie Walker at all, but as if another woman had taken over her body. During a brief conversation about the wisdom of serving throwback cocktail snacks, an entirely different narrative had been running through her head. Hadn’t she found her gaze straying to the Spaniard’s sensual lips, which looked like an invitation to sin, and wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him? Hadn’t her curiosity been piqued about how it would feel to be held in the arms of someone who looked so unbelievably strong?

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