Christmas With a Billionaire: Billionaire Under the MistletoeSnowed in With Her BossA Diamond for Christmas

by Carole Mortimer

  He shrugged. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, public transport is going to be awful and you’ll be coming back here early tomorrow morning anyway, to prepare lunch. And there are certainly plenty of bedrooms here for you to choose from,’ he added ruefully.

  It was Christmas Eve, and as yet Sophie had no idea how she was going to get home tonight, let alone to come back here in the morning; none of the trains and buses were running, and she doubted there would be a deluge of taxis running on Christmas Day either. If any.

  But stay here for the night?

  In Max Hamilton’s apartment?

  She didn’t think so.

  Besides which, Sophie had a distinct feeling that Max had already decided which bedroom, given the option, he would choose for her to stay in.

  And then there was Henry to think of.

  She gave a shake of her head. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’

  Her mouth firmed at the dismissal in his tone. ‘I have to go back to the flat tonight. Henry...’

  ‘Isn’t your lover. Or your boyfriend.’ Max’s eyes glittered darkly.

  ‘Neither are you,’ Sophie retorted heatedly.

  And instantly wished that she hadn’t.

  Max had held her a couple of times, had kissed and caressed her and she had wrestled him to the kitchen floor once, but that was the extent of their relationship. Max might give every impression of behaving like a jealous lover right now but, from those stories Sophie had read about him in the media over the years, he didn’t do the boyfriend thing. Ever. He did sometimes escort a lover, but never anything approaching the permanence of being called any woman’s boyfriend.

  As the woman Cynthia had found out to her cost?

  It was a distinct possibility.

  Just as it was a distinct possibility—a certainty—that Sophie would never see Max again after Christmas.

  ‘I apologise for what happened just now.’ Sophie sighed wearily. ‘I’m just a little... Thank you for your offer of staying here for the night, but my answer has to be no. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I need to finish cooking dinner,’ she dismissed briskly, avoiding even looking at Max.

  Max continued to look searchingly at Sophie as she turned to inspect the contents of the saucepan she had been stirring when he’d first entered the kitchen just a short time ago.

  He easily noted the way her face had now paled. That weary droop to her shoulders. The slight trembling of her hand as she gave the contents of the saucepan a stir.

  And knew that he should just leave this alone. Should just leave Sophie alone. That he was playing with fire. That desiring her, wanting to be with her, might just consume him. If it hadn’t already done so.

  At the same time as he knew that he couldn’t leave this, that just the thought of Sophie returning to spend the rest of the evening with some other man, even one that she had acknowledged wasn’t her lover or her boyfriend, was going to keep him awake for most of the night again. Most? He knew from experience that it was going to be all night!

  Which basically meant it wasn’t going to happen.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I’LL DRIVE YOU HOME later tonight and you can pick up some clothes for staying here for the rest of Christmas, at the same time as you explain the situation to Henry.’

  Sophie eyed Max warily as she slowly turned to look across the kitchen at him. Instantly feeling a melting sensation deep inside her, a longing, an ache for him.

  Did that mean she was falling in love with Max Hamilton?

  That inner melting sensation could be lust, but the fact that her heart gave a jolt in her chest every time she so much as looked at him would seem to imply that she felt something more than that. Something Sophie was sure she had never felt for any of those boys she had dated casually before her mother became so ill.

  Perhaps because they had been boys and Max was so obviously a man?

  A decisive and determined man who had now decided, and was just as determined, that she was going to stay here in his apartment for the rest of the Christmas holiday.

  In his bedroom?

  It wasn’t such a huge leap to take when she considered the passion that seemed to flare up between the two of them so easily, along with his threat earlier that this wasn’t over. In truth, Sophie wasn’t sure she would have the strength to resist if that was what Max had also decided.

  She straightened. ‘I’m not sure what situation you’re referring to.

  ‘Also,’ she continued firmly as he would have spoken, ‘as I’ve already said, thank you for the offer, but I really can’t stay here.’ There was no way she could possibly leave Henry on his own in Sally’s flat for the next two days and nights. Or allow Max to realise it was Sally’s apartment she was staying in...

  ‘Because of Henry,’ Max guessed.

  Her chin rose. ‘Yes.’

  His eyes were narrowed to glittering emerald slits. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  Sophie gave a humourless laugh. ‘There are so many things I haven’t told you—and that you haven’t asked—that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.’

  His mouth thinned. ‘I’ve asked about Henry.’

  ‘And I’ve told you all that you need to know about him.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’

  ‘You—’

  ‘I do know that you’re twenty-four years old,’ Max continued determinedly. ‘That both your parents are dead. That you’re currently taking a catering and business course at college. That you’re already an amazing cook, if those smells coming from the oven are any indication,’ he added appreciatively. ‘That you claim not to have a current boyfriend or lover.’ He scowled darkly before his brow cleared as he looked at her. ‘That you have an understated and yet totally mesmerising beauty. And the most amazingly soft and kissable lips.’ His voice had lowered huskily, seductively. ‘That your breasts are extremely sensitive to my touch...’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Sophie cut in uncomfortably, Max’s last two claims embarrassing her, as the previous ones had surprised her. Max thought she was beautiful? That aside, he did know a lot more about her than she had realised.

  As she knew a lot about him?

  She knew that he was thirty-four years old. That both his parents had died around Christmas sixteen years ago, probably in an accident of some kind. That he was a self-made billionaire who shied away from relationships, perhaps because of the early loss of his parents, resulting in a fear of emotional commitment?

  That he was without doubt the most attractive man Sophie had ever met in her life. That he had the most amazingly soft and sensuous lips. That the hardness of his arousal—a direct response to her proximity?—had been pressed against her just minutes ago.

  ‘We have plenty of time to fill in the other details later, surely?’ Max urged huskily.

  Such as the fact that Sophie was falling in love with him?

  She somehow doubted that was something Max wished to hear. From any woman. ‘I’m sorry, but my answer is still no,’ she refused again stubbornly.

  His jaw tightened. ‘I am driving you home, Sophie, and you are staying here for the rest of Christmas.’

  ‘You—’

  ‘It’s settled, Sophie,’ he added decisively, putting an end to the conversation by turning sharply on his heel and leaving the kitchen.

  And a very flustered and equally frustrated Sophie.

  * * *

  SHE REMAINED FLUSTERED and frustrated for the rest of the evening, Max insisting she would sit down in the dining room with the family to eat dinner with them. An invitation that was echoed by the whole of the Hilton family, thus making it impossible for Sophie to refuse without making a scene.

  She felt most uncomfortable removing her pinafore and sitting down at the table with all of them to
enjoy the first course of homemade pâté, followed by the main course of salmon and assorted vegetables, and then a delicious chocolate concoction made from her own recipe, in deference to five-year-old Amy.

  Even more disturbing was having Max sitting next to her, looking devastatingly attractive in an emerald-green cashmere sweater and black tailored trousers, and insisting on serving her food to her. As if she really were a guest rather than the hired help.

  As if she were Max’s very personal guest.

  Having Max behave so attentively towards her made Sophie a little uncomfortable, but if the Hiltons noticed it then they chose not to comment on it. They were a gregarious family, the conversation never flagging, and Max became equally relaxed in their easy-going company.

  To add to the excitement of the evening, Janice made the announcement that she was expecting her second child as they lingered at the dinner table drinking coffee and eating the chocolates Sophie had made. Amy was ecstatic at the thought of having a baby brother or sister, but Sophie noticed that Tom and Max seemed less enthusiastic as they shared a concerned glance.

  Causing Sophie to wonder, with the timing of the announcement and Tom and Max’s attitude to the news, if perhaps this second pregnancy had something to do with the couple’s earlier marital problems.

  A question she put to Max when he drove her back to the flat later that evening.

  Sophie had lost that part of the argument, at least.

  As she had fully expected she might, after Max had been so insistent earlier this evening, and noticeably hadn’t drunk any wine with his meal. Because he’d had every intention of driving her home, no matter what her objections. The Hiltons had added to the pressure of her accepting Max’s offer of driving her home by assuring her they had every intention of clearing away after dinner.

  In the end it was just easier for Sophie to accept Max’s offer rather than trying to find a firm who had an available taxi that would come out this late on Christmas Eve. Most of London’s taxis would be busy driving people home from parties and clubs this evening.

  However, she had no intention of losing the argument regarding staying at Max’s apartment for the rest of Christmas.

  She had cautiously given Max an address that was in the general area of Sally’s flat, rather than specific to it; there was absolutely no reason why Max should ever have bothered himself to learn where his PA lived, but Sophie thought it best not to take any chances.

  ‘Janice isn’t supposed to have any more children,’ Max answered Sophie now with a grimace as he drove his car through the busy London streets. Christmas lights were blazing everywhere and a light sprinkling of snow had started to fall to add to the magic of the evening.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  He shrugged. ‘She had a difficult time with Amy’s birth and the doctors advised that she not have any more children. Tom offered to have a vasectomy at the time, but Janice wouldn’t allow it. Any more than she would agree to have this pregnancy terminated when it was confirmed last month, which is why she and Tom argued and Tom moved out for a couple of weeks, hoping to shock her into changing her mind. It didn’t, so Tom’s just given up. My sister can be extremely stubborn when she wants to be,’ he added with a frown. ‘And yes, it’s a family trait,’ he said drily as he saw the knowing rise of Sophie’s brows.

  ‘I would never have guessed,’ she drawled mockingly, before sobering. ‘Is Janice going to be all right?’

  ‘Tom and I will ensure that she is,’ Max confirmed grimly; he had no intention of losing his sister too. ‘Which street and building?’ he prompted as they entered the area of London where Sophie had said she was staying.

  ‘Anywhere around here will be fine—’

  ‘It’s snowing heavier than ever, Sophie, so which street and which building?’ Max repeated evenly.

  ‘There’s really no need for you to—’

  ‘Sophie.’

  Just her name, even spoken in that flat, undemanding tone, and Sophie knew that Max expected her to answer him without further argument.

  Unlike the argument she knew was going to ensue when she told him she wouldn’t be driving back with him.

  But he was right about the snow; it was falling more heavily. The roads remained clear because of the amount of traffic on them, but the pathways were definitely being covered in a layer of light and fluffy, and no doubt slippery, snow.

  Her mouth firmed as she made her decision. ‘Take the next left and the building is halfway along that street.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he accepted tightly before following her instructions.

  Sophie’s trepidation grew as they neared Sally’s building. So far, Max didn’t seem to have made any connection between the name of the road and his PA, and Sophie could only hope that he never did.

  She had absolutely no idea what his reaction would be if he were to realise, at this late date, that it was Sally’s flat she was staying in, and that Henry was in fact her cousin’s cat.

  To be fair, Sophie could have had no idea a situation like tonight would ever happen when she had persuaded Sally into letting her be the one to ‘deliver Christmas’ to Max Hamilton’s apartment. She really had thought she would just do her job, get paid and never see Max Hamilton again.

  Instead of which, Sophie was now caught up in a situation that could prove disastrous for Sally, and was more than a little dangerous to her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘I’M GETTING COVERED in more snow the longer you keep me standing out here, Sophie,’ Max drawled pointedly as she made no effort to get out of the car once he had parked next to the pavement and come round to open the passenger door for her.

  She shot him an irritated glance. ‘There was absolutely no need for you to get out of the car in the first place.’

  ‘There’s every reason when you’re coming straight back with me. And sooner rather than later,’ he added with a grim look up at the heavily snow-laden sky.

  ‘I’m not...’

  ‘Get out of the damned car, Sophie,’ he bit out impatiently. ‘We can argue about this again once we’re inside out of the cold.’ Max was enjoying the snow, if he was honest; it snowed so rarely in London, but especially at Christmastime, that it was rather lovely to see.

  Unless it was just that he was turning into a romantic sop as a result of this unexpected and inexplicable attraction he had felt towards Sophie from the beginning? An attraction that only seemed to deepen with each day that passed.

  He could think of a few people, mainly female, who would definitely find the idea of him becoming a romantic sop highly amusing.

  Sophie gave him a disgruntled glance as she finally climbed out of the car, pulling up the white fur-lined hood of her red duffel coat over her hair as she did so.

  ‘You look like Mrs Santa Claus.’ Max grinned appreciatively as he closed and locked the car door before taking a firm hold beneath her elbow and walking with her across the pavement to the front door of the four-storey building.

  Sophie shot him another quelling glance as she paused after unlocking the door into the building. ‘As I said, there is absolutely no reason for you to come up with me because I’m not coming back with you.’

  ‘And I said we’d talk about that again once we’re inside,’ he reminded with deceptive lightness.

  Sophie’s frustration grew as she watched how the falling snow was settling lightly on the darkness of Max’s hair and the shoulders of his dark brown sheepskin jacket. The stubborn expression on his face said he had every intention of accompanying her up to the flat. And going inside.

  She quickly did an inventory of Sally’s flat inside her head. As far as she could remember, it had been clean and tidy when she’d left this morning, and Sally kept all of her photos of herself and Josh in her bedroom so there were no incriminating photos of her cousin around in
the main room. Henry was a bit of a problem, but with any luck he would have settled himself somewhere for the night and be comfortably asleep.

  ‘I’m really not coming back with you, Max,’ she repeated firmly.

  ‘And I’m really not going to continue arguing with you about this in the middle of the street,’ he came back mildly as he pointedly pushed open the door to the building before standing back and waiting for her to enter.

  Another argument Sophie knew she had lost as she strode inside the warmth of the building, frowning as they stepped into the lift together. She once again went through every room in Sally’s flat in her head, desperately trying to remember if there was anything in the main rooms to give away the identity of the owner.

  Max studied Sophie between narrowed lids as he leant back against the opposite side of the lift, noting the flush to her cheeks and the way she was fidgeting with the keys in her hand. ‘Nervous about introducing me to Henry?’ he taunted.

  ‘No!’ Her eyes flashed darkly.

  ‘You’re definitely nervous about something.’

  ‘I’m annoyed, actually, because of the way you bullied me into this. I’m not a child, Max, and I don’t appreciate being treated like one, either,’ she added impatiently as he stepped out of the lift beside her into the hallway.

  Max had no doubt that Sophie was spoiling for another argument. Just as he was convinced that her reaction to his insistence on driving her home and accompanying her up to the flat she was staying in was slightly...off. Out of proportion to the situation, because there was no way she would be able to get back to his apartment tomorrow if the snow kept falling as heavily as it was.

  ‘Nor do I have any intention of introducing you to Henry,’ she continued stubbornly as she came to a stop outside one of the doors.

  Yes, definitely off, Max decided.

  ‘What’s the big deal, Sophie?’

  She was behaving far too edgily for Max to be one hundred per cent convinced as to her claim of having only a platonic relationship with this guy Henry.