The Twelve Nights of Christmas

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘My daughter’s future was all that mattered to me.’

  ‘If you’d told me, I would have helped you.’ Her lashes sparkled with moisture. ‘You need to stop being such a cynic because the last thing a little girl needs is a father who is a cynic. When you’re reading her fairy stories, maybe it’s right to adapt the ending—maybe it isn’t right to tell children that they all lived happily ever after, I don’t know—but neither is it right to bring her up believing that everyone is guilty until proven innocent. That there is no good in anyone. That all people are out to get what they can out of everyone else. If you’re going to apply corporate principles to parenting, then it’s never going to work.’ Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. ‘Now, get your coat and phone that driver of yours. We’re going shopping.’

  Still braced for catastrophe, it took Rio a few moments to assimilate the fact that she wasn’t leaving. She was offering to stay. Her generosity floored him. ‘Of course I’ll take you shopping.’ His voice was husky with an emotion he didn’t recognise and he lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her moist cheek. Gratitude, he thought. And admiration. He realised that he’d been wrong about her again. She was far, far stronger than she looked. ‘I’ll buy you the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen as long as you tell me I’m forgiven.’

  ‘I didn’t say anything about diamonds and I didn’t say anything about forgiveness. We’re going to a toy shop. If you truly intend to be a father to Elyssa, then you need to start learning what little girls like for Christmas.’ Despite everything, there was humour in her gaze. ‘I probably ought to warn you that I’m something of an expert. Fasten your seat belt because I have a feeling this is going to be a steep learning curve.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘FAIRY wings?’ RIO’s tone was incredulous. ‘You’re sure?’

  Evie reached for a pair of pink gossamer wings which hung from a metal hook. She felt devastated. Ripped to shreds by the revelation that he’d lied to her. ‘Trust me, fairy wings are always a hit with four-year-olds. Better buy a spare pair, ready for when she breaks these.’ It felt strange, having this conversation with this man. She had a sense that what she was saying was as alien to him as the Russian Vladimir spoke.

  As if to confirm her suspicions, he looked at her blankly. ‘Why will she break them? She’s a little girl, not a Sumo wrestler—’

  ‘Yes, but she’ll want to sleep in them,’ Evie explained patiently, ‘because that’s what little girls always do and sleeping in them will break them. When that happens you can either explain to her that they’re gone for ever or you can spoil her rotten and get her another pair. Normally I’d suggest it’s dangerous to spoil her but, given that she’s obviously had a completely rubbish time lately, I think an extra pair is probably in order.’

  Without hesitation, Rio cleared the shelves of pink fairy wings.

  ‘I meant one spare pair,’ Evie said faintly, ‘not ten.’

  ‘I’m not risking anything. As you say, she’s had enough trauma for one lifetime.’ Rio handed them to his stunned bodyguard. ‘So we have fairy wings and spare fairy wings and spare spare fairy wings. What next?’

  Thrown by the sight of the normally taciturn Antonio struggling to balance a mountain of fairy wings, Evie managed a smile. ‘If you’re attacked now, this will be interesting. You’ll just have to bash them with your magic wand or something—’

  Antonio’s mouth twitched. ‘I’ll remember that.’

  ‘Don’t worry about Antonio,’ Rio drawled. ‘He probably trained in the same unarmed combat camp as your grandfather. If the chips were down, he’d find a way to turn fairy wings into an assault weapon.’ His gaze met hers. ‘It’s good of you to do this for me.’

  She felt frozen inside. ‘I’m doing it for her, not you.’ She ignored the tiny part of her that questioned that claim, just as she ignored the commotion in her nerve-endings that told her he was even more lethally attractive when he was vulnerable. ‘Let’s go. We need dolls.’

  ‘I’m not sure about dolls. Last time I saw her, I took her a doll.’ He scanned the rows of toys with something close to despair. ‘I think I probably chose the wrong sort. There were millions. The one I picked had a very elaborate costume and she was very frustrated when it wouldn’t come off.’

  Evie’s heart twisted at that image—the arrogant, self assured tycoon taking a serious knock to his self-esteem as he struggled to choose a doll. ‘I expect she’d like a doll that can be dressed and undressed. They make one that cries and wets itself.’

  His expression was comical. ‘There is a market for that?’

  ‘A huge market,’ Evie told him, enjoying the look of shock on his face. ‘You pour the milk in one end and it comes out the other, just like real life.’

  Rio shuddered and he said something in Italian. ‘That is fun?’

  ‘It’s role play. Didn’t you ever play mummies and daddies—?’ Evie took one look at his face and shook her head. ‘Forget I said that. I don’t suppose commitment games were ever your thing. Take it from me, most little girls are a sucker for caring for a baby. Put a real baby in a room and the girls are all over it in minutes. Whatever anyone says about feminism, most little girls love pretending dolls are babies.’

  ‘Did you?’ Suddenly his gaze became disturbingly acute and Evie felt the slow burn of colour in her cheeks.

  ‘Yes.’ She turned away from him and took the stairs two at a time. There were some things it didn’t pay to think about. Especially not around this man. She just wanted to get this over with so that she could go into hiding and lick her wounds. ‘Here—dolls. I’ll grab a shopping trolley. I don’t think poor Antonio can carry any more.’

  ‘A whole floor of dolls?’ Rio looked horrified. ‘How do you know where to start?’

  Evie tried to translate it into terms he’d understand. ‘Like any product, you have to segment your market. There’s a specific market for young children. Then they segment the market again—dolls that cry, dolls that—’

  ‘OK, fine. I get the picture—’ he interrupted her hastily ‘—so which is the market leader?’

  ‘This one.’ She pointed and Rio lifted it off the shelf gingerly.

  ‘How many spares do we need?’

  ‘At least one. It’s very easy to leave a doll on a plane.’ Suddenly realising what she’d said, Evie gave a wry smile. ‘On the other hand, you do own the plane, so you’d be able to retrieve it without long and fruitless arguments with unhelpful airline staff. You could probably get away without spares.’

  Clearly not prepared to take any risks, Rio added five identical dolls to the growing pile of toys in the trolley. ‘I have five homes,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘It’s probably best to have a spare in each.’

  ‘Five?’ Evie blinked. ‘You have five homes?’

  ‘You’re thinking that it will confuse a small child?’ He added a small stack of accessories to the pile. ‘I’ve been thinking the same thing. In fact, I’ve been restructuring my business so that I can spend as much time as possible at my palazzo in Florence, to give her stability. My team have decorated a room exactly like the one she is in at the moment so that it seems familiar. It’s right next to mine and I have already appointed a very experienced English nanny who is ready to move in at a moment’s notice.’

  Evie felt the hot sting of tears scald her eyes and turned away in horror, blinking rapidly. For crying out loud, what was the matter with her? Why did the thought of him studying a child’s room and creating an identical version make her want to sob? Struggling for control, she picked up a doll from the shelf and pretended to examine it. Her insides were at war and, when she felt Rio’s hand close over her shoulder, the tears formed a lump in her throat. ‘This is a good one.’ She thrust the doll at him and he studied it in silence.

  ‘Are you sure? I’m no expert, but I don’t think so.’

  Dragging her gaze from the dark shadow of his jaw to the doll she’d handed him, Evie re
alised that he was right. The doll she’d selected was completely unsuitable for a young child. Apart from the fact that the clothing was covered in intricate beading, there was a clear warning that it wasn’t intended for children under the age of eight. She wasn’t concentrating. Her mind was all over the place.

  His hand still on her shoulder, Rio returned the doll to the shelf. ‘I’ve upset you again.’ His voice was low and all Evie could do was shake her head, frightened by the intensity of her feelings.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re trying not to cry. I know enough about women to recognise the signs.’

  ‘I believe you. I’m sure you’ve made enough women cry in your time.’

  ‘But normally they don’t try and hold it back. As usual, you have to be different. If you want to sob, then sob. I know I deserve it. I really have been a bastard to you.’ He smoothed her hair away from her face but she moved her head away sharply.

  ‘Don’t touch me. And don’t use that word in a toy shop.’ Evie almost wished she could cry. It would have been easier to hate him. The problem was, she didn’t hate him. She didn’t hate him at all. He’d used her, he’d lied to her, but she still didn’t hate him.

  Ignoring her warning not to touch, he closed his hands over her shoulders. ‘Evie—’

  ‘Let’s just get this done. I’m tired. I haven’t had much sleep in the last few days.’ She tried to pull away from him but he held her, his physical strength evident in his firm grip.

  ‘We were talking about where Elyssa would enjoy living most. Do you have an opinion on where a little girl would like to live? I assumed a child would rather live in one place as much as possible and Florence is a wonderful city, but if you think—’

  ‘I honestly don’t know.’ Evie finally managed to pull away from him. ‘Why would I know? I’m not a mother. I probably know less than you do.’ All she knew was that her mind was a mess. She’d told herself that he was totally the wrong man for her because he wasn’t the family sort. He’d emphasised that he wasn’t interested in commitment. And now she discovered he had a daughter he clearly adored and every decision he made, even the one to use her so ruthlessly to achieve his own ends, demonstrated the level of his commitment to his child. The fact that he was clearly struggling so hard to do the right thing somehow made the whole thing all the more poignant. He hadn’t chosen fatherhood, but he was determined to do it right. He was facing his responsibilities. Despite what everyone said, Rio Zaccarelli didn’t have a problem with commitment. His problem was with his own relationships with women. And that was hardly surprising, was it, given the women he’d met in the past?

  Thinking about Elyssa’s mother, Evie’s throat was thick with emotion. Who would do that to a man? Or to a child? A solid lump seemed to have formed behind the wall of her chest. She kept seeing him removing that photograph from his wallet. Kept seeing him piling up fairy wings so that his daughter didn’t suffer any more trauma. Her arm brushed against his and an electric current shot through her body and, at that moment, the truth lit up in her brain.

  She’d fallen in love with him. At some point during the glittering, glamorous charade, the pretence had turned to reality.

  It was a thrilling, sickening feeling. A sudden whoosh of the heart and a sinking of the stomach. Dread and desire intermingled with a knowledge that the whole thing was hopeless.

  How could that have happened?

  In such a short time and with a man like him?

  How could she have been so recklessly foolish?

  Parading his faults through her brain, Evie turned sharply and walked towards the end of the store, hiding her panic. ‘You need books. Reading together is a great way to bond.’ She blocked out an image of Rio sprawled on a bedcover covered in pink dancing fairies, reading to a small, dark haired girl who adored him. This was hard enough without making it worse for herself.

  Her hands shook as she selected books from the shelves, conscious of his steady scrutiny.

  ‘What’s going on, Evie? When we came into this store you were hell bent on punishing me—you dragged me round pink fairy wings, handed me dolls and stuffed toys bigger than I am—and suddenly you look like the one who is being punished. You look like someone who has had a terrible shock.’

  ‘No,’ she answered quickly. Too quickly. ‘Not a shock.’

  ‘I wish you’d tell me why you’re upset. Or is this still because you’re thinking about my daughter?’ He sat down on a chair in the reading area. He should have looked ridiculous, stretching his powerful body and long legs amongst the small bean bags and tiny colouring tables, but he didn’t look ridiculous. Evie doubted Rio could look ridiculous anywhere. He had that ability to blend with his surroundings that came with confidence and self-assurance.

  ‘Of course I’m thinking of your daughter.’ Picking another two books from the shelf, she flicked through them. ‘That’s what we’re doing here, isn’t it?’ She wished he’d stop looking at her. Suddenly, she was afraid that everything she was feeling might show on her face. The feelings growing inside her were so new she hadn’t got used to hiding them yet.

  ‘So we’ve done fairy wings, dolls, stuffed toys, games—’ he listed them one by one, a trace of irony in his voice ‘—is there anything else you think she would like? What does a little girl really want?’

  What does a little girl really want?

  Evie stared for a moment, the question opening a deep rift inside her. It was the one thing she was able to answer with complete confidence. ‘All a little girl really wants is her daddy,’ she said huskily. ‘The rest is just icing on the cake.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Rio tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he opened the email. ‘Yes, I have it here…I’m reading it right now…I’ll make all the arrangements.’

  When he finally ended the call, he knew his life had altered irrevocably. It was done. The lawyers had finally confirmed it. Elyssa was going to come and live with him. The courts had awarded him custody.

  His gaze slid to the small mountain of toys that had been neatly stacked in one corner of the Penthouse, a testament to Evie’s dedication to her task. His little girl would want for nothing, not that he was kidding himself for one moment that the future was going to go as smoothly as that one shopping trip. For a start there was his own inexperience to take into account, and then there was the inescapable fact that Elyssa had spent the past few years with a woman so self-absorbed that the needs of her child had largely gone unnoticed. Whichever way you looked at it, there was a rocky road ahead. Staring at the toys, he suddenly wished Evie was there to guide him through more than just his choice of doll.

  But that was a crazy thought, wasn’t it? A selfish thought, because he had nothing to offer her. Not even a defence against her accusation that he’d used her.

  He had.

  He’d done what needed to be done, without a flicker of conscience. But he didn’t need to use her a moment longer. Their charade could end. Evie could get on with her life—could concentrate on making her grandfather proud.

  She could go home for Christmas.

  He sat there for a long moment and for once his phones were silent.

  Through the wraparound glass of the luxurious Penthouse, he could see that the snow was falling again and immediately he thought how pleased Evie would be.

  She loved snow.

  Rising to his feet, he decided he needed to tell her, but when he searched the Penthouse there was no sign of her. At some point during his endless phone calls, she’d gone out.

  Antonio entered the suite in response to his urgent call. ‘Miss Anderson has gone to the park, boss.’

  ‘What do you mean, she’s gone to the park? It’s seven degrees below freezing and it’s still snowing—’ Rio prowled across the thick carpet. The snow was floating past the window, thick flakes that landed on the ground and settled. The streets were virtually empty of people and traffic, everyone trapped indoors because of the weather. For the first time in o
ver a decade the pond in the park had frozen over. A few ducks waddled sorrowfully across the ice. Staring through the window, he peered through the swirling flakes but failed to spot her. ‘What the hell is she doing in the park?’

  Antonio cleared his throat. ‘She’s building a snowman, boss.’

  ‘She’s—what?’

  ‘A snowman.’ Antonio was smiling. ‘It’s surprisingly good, actually. She’s managed to—’

  ‘Spare me a description of the snowman.’ Rio spoke through his teeth. ‘Did she leave a message for me?’

  ‘Yes. She said to tell you that she needed fresh air and that she’d be back when she was finished.’

  ‘Where exactly is she?’

  ‘The far side of the pond, sir. Shall I call your driver?’

  Rio strode across the room and snatched his coat from the back of the chair. ‘No. I’ll walk.’

  ‘In that case, perhaps you would give this to Evie, sir, with my compliments.’ Antonio dug his hand in his pocket and withdrew a carrot. ‘I went down to the kitchens and found it for her. She might find it useful.’

  Rio stared at it. ‘Call me stupid,’ he said slowly, ‘but I can’t for a moment imagine what possible use she will have for a single raw carrot.’

  ‘Then you’ve obviously never made a snowman, boss. It’s for his nose. I tried to get a slightly smaller one, but the kitchen—’

  ‘All right—I get the picture.’ Feeling out of touch with everyone around him, Rio pushed the carrot into his pocket and strode across the room to the private elevator. As he reached the doors, he paused, his mind exploring an idea. His instinct was to reject it instantly, but for once he fought that instinct.