The Twelve Nights of Christmas

‘Sì, it hurt.’ He rolled his shoulder experimentally, checking for damage. ‘Which is why, next time, I’d appreciate it if you’d just do as I say and open the damn door.’

Evie gave a choked laugh, clutching the silk throw against her. ‘Why? So that you can fire me in person?’

‘Who says I’m going to fire you?’

‘You fired the tyrannosaurus.’

‘Tyrannosaurus?’ Still rubbing his shoulder, he frowned, his expression dark and menacing. ‘I presume you’re talking about that officious woman with the unfortunate hair. That’s what you all call her?’

Evie froze. ‘No, of course not,’ she lied. ‘We call her Tina.’ Or meat-eater, because she feasted on hotel staff for breakfast.

‘She didn’t seem too impressed with you.’

‘No.’ It was impossible to argue with that. Utterly defeated, Evie felt the last dregs of spirit drain out of her. What was the point in defending herself? It was over. ‘I think it’s fair to say I don’t have an enormous number of supporters in high places.’ Tina had demoted her. Carlos had tried to grope her and, when she’d rejected him and humiliated him, he’d set her up.

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