Page 20 of Cinderella's Christmas Secret 1
Some Christmas! She was stuck in a cold, almost empty castle with a man who didn’t want her there. She turned her pillow over and bashed it with her fist. Didn’t matter how many sheep she tried to count, she just couldn’t sleep. In fact, she had dozed only fitfully since she’d retired to bed just after ten last night, leaving Maximo downstairs, working in the library.
Their shared supper had beenawkward, to say the least. Oh, the food had been delicious—no doubt about that. Maximo’s Cantabrian mountain stew had hit the spot and the tycoon had waited on her in a way she suspected was totally out of character. She had been impressed by his culinary skills and had said so. But Hollie hadn’t been impervious to the unspoken words which had seemed to dangle in the air like invisible baubles. Just as she’d been unable to ignore the spiralling tension which curled like smoke in the base of her stomach whenever he came near.
But last night had been about more than sexual chemistry and, although his powerful presence had been impossible to ignore, Hollie had learnt a little more about the father of her child. It had been an illuminating insight to discover that his wealth hadn’t been handed to him on a plate, but he was a self-made man, and that revelation had made her feel an undoubted respect towards him. Yet afterwards it was as if he regretted having told her anything at all, because when she had tried to ask him about growing up in those harsh circumstances, he had very firmly changed the subject. And after that, things had become a little stilted.
It hadn’t exactly helped that she had nothing to sleep in and when she’d plucked up courage to ask Maximo if he had a pyjama top she could borrow, he had stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses.
‘Are you crazy?’ he’d questioned, black eyes narrowed. ‘I never wear anything in bed.’
It had proved yet one more awkward moment in a whole series of them and in Hollie’s opinion, that was far too much information to take on board, in the circumstances. Berating her naïve stupidity and hiding her sudden blush by leaping to her feet, she had escaped upstairs and run herself a bath—more to get warm than anything else. But when she had returned to her room she had found a T-shirt lying on top of the velvet heap of bedcovers, which Maximo must have left there for her. A black T-shirt with the wordLegendinscribed across the front. Pulling it on, she had momentarily revelled in the feel of the soft material against her clean skin—even though the garment had swamped her. And wasn’t she aware—on some fundamental level—that she got a kick out of wearing it becausehehad worn it, too?
She tossed and turned as the minutes continued to tick slowly by. She looked at her watch to note that midnight had become one o’clock and she was as restless as before and so, wrapping one of the velvet throws around herself, she went to the window and gazed outside. And despite everything, she couldn’t hold back the sigh of wonder which escaped from her lips because outside was the most perfect scene she could imagine—like an illustration from a book about winter.
The snow had stopped falling and the moon was huge in the sky, bathing the milky landscape in a bright and silvery light. Against the frosty stillness of the landscape, the tall shapes of the trees rose ghostly and beautiful and for a moment Holly just drank it all in until the dryness in her throat reminded her that she was thirsty. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a drink to bed with her?
She stood very still and listened but could hear nothing and surely Maximo must be fast asleep by now. Carefully opening the door to avoid making any noise, she crept along the corridor, clutching her makeshift cloak around her. The whisper of velvet brushing against the stone steps was the only sound she could hear and quietly she made her way to the kitchen, turning the switch on so that it flooded with light. It was neat and clean, all the debris from dinner tidied away. Maximo had obviously cleared up after she went to bed. He reallywasindependent she thought, scrolling back through those rare memories of her father to realise that not once had he ever lifted a finger to help her mother.
She poured herself a glass of water and thirstily gulped it down before pouring another and switching off the light. And although the castle was dark and very quiet, Hollie wasn’t in the least bit spooked—because the walls felt friendly. She wondered if other women, like her, had wandered these stone corridors in the dead of night and wondered how they were going to cope with an unknown future.
Lost in thought, she had almost reached the end of the passageway when a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows and Hollie jumped. Water arced and splashed against the stone wall and as the glass slipped from her fingers Maximo lunged forward to catch it—cradling the intact vessel in the palm of his hand like a professional cricketer who had just made a sensational catch.
‘You scared the life out of me!’ she accused, aware that his hair was ruffled as if he’d hurriedly dragged his sweater over his head and that the top button of his jeans was undone.
‘I didn’t mean to alarm you. I couldn’t sleep and I heard something moving downstairs, or rather someone, so I threw on some clothes and came down to investigate.’ His shuttered gaze flicked over her. ‘You’d better get back upstairs,’ he added, and suddenly his voice was tinged with harshness. ‘It’s cold.’
Hollie nodded but she didn’t move. Shecouldn’tmove. It was as if she had suddenly forgotten how to use her legs.
‘It’s cold everywhere,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been awake for hours.’
His eyes narrowed and a look of intense calculation darkened his already shadowed features. He looked as if he were fighting some silent inner battle and when he nodded his head, Hollie couldn’t decide whether he had won, or lost.
‘Maybe we should try and do something about that,’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
His soft question slid over her skin, snaring her with threads of silk. And he was studying her with that absorbed and shadowed gaze, which was making her grow weak. And all the time, raw desire was pulsing around them, like a living being. Hollie felt breathless. Poised on the edge of something—but she didn’t know the rules of this game. She didn’t know how to play. ‘That depends what you had in mind,’ she stumbled.
He smiled. A slow and speculative smile. A smile no sane woman could have resisted. ‘There are any number of options. We could go upstairs and I could lend you another T-shirt. We could see if we can find any more of those velvet wraps you seem so fond of. Or you could share my bed and get warm that way. It’s up to you. It’s your call, Hollie.’
Maybe if he’d asked that same question during daylight hours when he’d made it plain she was an unwelcome guest, then Hollie might have refused. But the darkness had added a strange layer of anonymity, as well as enhancing her already aroused senses. And it was Christmas morning, wasn’t it? A time of magic and secret wishes, when anything could happen. She sensed he wouldn’t judge her if she said yes, because this was a time out of life and she wanted it. She wanted it very badly.
‘Yes, please,’ she said simply.
‘Which?’
‘You know which.’
He made a low growling noise beneath his breath, as if her easy capitulation had pleased him. Then he put the empty glass down on the stone floor, very carefully, and took her in his arms. He brushed her hair from her cheeks, looking down at her for a moment, his gaze crystalline and hard. She’d thought he might kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead, he laced his fingers through hers and led her towards the stairs. It felt very grown-up but...it also felt very disappointing and it wasn’t until they had reached the upstairs floor that Hollie raised her face to his in question. Because hadn’t she secretly been longing for the ultimate castle fantasy of Maximo sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to his lair?
‘You want to know why I didn’t carry you this time?’ he guessed.
‘Yes.’ Hollie nodded, marvelling at his perception even as she resented it. Just how many women had he carried to his bed over the years? she wondered.
‘Because you’re pregnant,’ he admitted. ‘And I’m terrified of dropping you.’
It was a surprisingly tender admission and Hollie felt her skin grow warm. ‘You’re way too strong to drop me—and I’m not made of glass, Maximo.’
‘I wouldn’t bring up the subject of glass right now if I were you.’
His teasing broke a little of the tension until he stared down at her again, his expression dark and unfathomable, and she could see a pulse beating wildly at his temple. ‘But since we’re on the flat again...’
