Snowbound Seduction: A Night of No Return / To Claim His Heir by Christmas / I'll Be Yours for Christmas

‘I have to wait until tomorrow?’

‘Seven-hour flight, four-hour time difference—’ he shrugged ‘—it will be evening when we arrive and you’re already exhausted which is hardly surprising given the amount of sleep you didn’t get last night.’

Presumably she wasn’t supposed to react to that. Presumably she was expected to treat what had happened with the same matter of fact casualness as he did.

So that was what she did. ‘Is there somewhere to shop close by?’

‘Avery will be able to advise you on the best place.’

‘Avery owns her own highly successful company.’ Emma thought about the pictures she’d seen of the glamorous businesswoman. ‘She’s very nice and we’ve bonded over your guest list, but I suspect she and I may have a very different idea of what constitutes the “best” place.’ It was all too easy to imagine how her sister would react if she blew a sizeable chunk of her precious salary on a dress she’d probably only ever be able to wear once in her life.

‘I’m paying,’ Lucas drawled, ‘so the budget is irrelevant.’

‘You most certainly are not paying.’ Emma shot to her feet, deeply offended that he could even think she would agree to that. ‘Just in case you hadn’t already noticed, I am not Tara.’

‘Let me stop you there before you embarrass yourself,’ he interjected softly, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs, as supremely relaxed as she was ridiculously tense. ‘I am offering to buy you clothes because you don’t have any with you and because I’m asking you to dress for an event you’re required to attend in your role as my PA, not because we had sex. I am in no way being contradictory. I am completely clear about the nature of our relationship, Emma. It’s professional.’

And for a moment she’d forgotten that. And he knew she’d forgotten it. Feeling intensely foolish, Emma sat down again. And this was the problem, she thought helplessly. For her, the personal and the professional were now well and truly mixed up. It was impossible to separate them. When he’d mentioned buying her clothes, she’d assumed it was personal. ‘Well, thanks for clearing that up, but I don’t need you to buy me clothes for work either. I can buy my own clothes.’

He watched her steadily, a cynical gleam in his blue eyes as he acknowledged her tension and the reason for it. And along with the cynicism there was a tiredness that came, not from lack of sleep but from life. ‘Right now, I think whether or not I buy you a dress is the least of our problems, don’t you?’

He thought she couldn’t do this.

Determined to prove him wrong, Emma lifted her chin and stood up. ‘I don’t have any problems. Do you?’

* * *

Zubran was an oil-rich state on the Persian Gulf. She’d expected sand. What she hadn’t expected was the fascinating mix of red-gold sand dunes, mountains and stunning coastline that she saw from the air as they came in to land. The scenery provided a welcome distraction from dwelling on the change in her relationship with Lucas.

And really, there was nothing to think about.

She worked for him. If she wanted to carry on working for him, she had to pull herself together.

It helped that, from the moment they’d boarded the company jet, he’d been very much his old self. As focused as ever, he’d worked for the entire flight, pausing only to drink one cup of strong black coffee while, seated across from him on one of the ridiculously luxurious deep leather seats, Emma fretted and worried.

It was just a couple of days, she told herself. A couple of days during which she had to behave in a professional way and switch off any other thoughts. After that, once they were back in the office, everything would be easier.

‘Fasten your seat belt,’ he murmured, ‘we’re landing.’

She wondered how he knew that, given that he hadn’t even looked up from his work. ‘I know. I’ve been looking at the scenery. I expected desert.’

‘Zubran is famous for its coastline. The country has a long seafaring heritage and the diving here is incredible which is why I incorporated an underwater theme in the design of the hotel.’

Emma watched as a graceful catamaran danced over the waves beneath them as they came in to land. ‘How far is the hotel from the airport?’

‘Half an hour along the coast. The Ferraras never build hotels in cities. They’re all about fresh air and healthy living.’ Finally he glanced up, but only to exchange a few words with the flight attendants who had found themselves seriously underutilized on this particular flight.

As soon as they landed, he was out of his seat, impatient to get on. ‘Let’s go and see if my hotel is still standing.’

The short walk from the aircraft to the sleek limousine waiting for them on the tarmac was enough to tell her that a shopping trip needed to be high on her list of priorities. The sweater that had provided woefully inadequate protection against a British winter now felt as thick and heavy as a fur coat. She was grateful for the fierce air conditioning that turned the interior of the car into the equivalent of a mobile fridge as they sped along a straight road that led from the city up the coast. Rising to her left were steep sand dunes, turning from gold to red under the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, and to her right were the warm waters of the Indian Ocean, sparkling like a thousand tiny jewels thrown onto a carpet of blue velvet.

The change in climate felt surreal after the howling winds and thick snow of England.

Knowing that the moment she stepped out of the car she was going to melt, Emma glanced at her watch. ‘What time do the shops close? I need to buy something to wear that isn’t made of wool.’

‘You don’t have time to shop tonight. I’ve asked Avery to put something in your room for this evening and she’s going to take you shopping in the morning. After the meeting you should have time for a short rest.’

‘A rest? Am I three years old?’

‘No, but tomorrow is going to be a long night.’

‘I don’t need a rest to prepare for that. I will run on adrenaline.’ Emma felt a tiny thrill of excitement. Was it a bit sad, she wondered, to be this excited about a party that was supposed to be business? She was supposed to be saying to herself, What a bore, working when I’m supposed to be on holiday. Instead she was thinking, Yay, a party. She was feminine enough to enjoy being given the opportunity to dress up and mingle with adults. And anyway, this wasn’t any party. It was the party. People had been virtually clawing each other out of the way to get on the guest list.

Lost in thought, she hadn’t even noticed that they were no longer on the main road until she looked up and there, ahead of her, rising up as if from the sea itself, was a beautiful glass structure in the shape of a shell. Of course she’d seen both the plans and the model, but nothing prepared her for the real thing.

‘Oh.’

‘All that hard work and your only response is “oh”? Let’s hope my audience tomorrow night are a little more enthusiastic.’ Smiling faintly, Lucas unclipped his seat belt as the car pulled up outside the main entrance.

Emma was so busy staring she stumbled as she left the car. ‘I said “oh” because I was lost for words, not because I wasn’t enthusiastic, not that I think for a moment my approval means anything to someone like you.’

‘Perhaps it does.’ He spoke softly and she turned her head to look at him, her heart beating hard. Warmth engulfed her and she repeated the word in her head like a mantra—professional, professional.

‘In that case you should know that I think it’s stunning. Beautiful and very clever. It must be hard designing something that works for this climate.’

‘Despite the fact we’re on the edge of the desert, it can become surprisingly chilly at night, although not as chilly as a castle in snowy Oxfordshire.’ A frown on his face, he removed his gaze from her mouth. ‘Air circulation and humidity was a challenge, as was the soil type but in the end it’s all come together.’

The heat was starting to make her feel strange and she didn’t know whether it was from the ferocious desert sun or the heat that came from being close to Lucas.

They reached the entrance and were greeted by a beautiful girl dressed in a smart uniform.

‘Mr Jackson. Welcome! I hope your journey was comfortable.’ She shook hands and then glanced at Emma, clearly expecting to see Tara. A consummate professional, her smile didn’t slip. ‘Welcome to the Zubran Ferrara Spa Resort. I’m Aliana, Head of Guest Relations. I hope your stay is comfortable, but if there is anything at all you need then do please ask.’

And judging from the woman’s expression, nothing was off-limits, Emma thought, feeling a rush of jealousy that she knew was totally inappropriate.

‘This is Emma,’ Lucas said calmly. ‘Emma is my PA.’

‘Of course.’ Despite the smooth response it was obvious that the girl considered ‘PA’ to be a euphemism for a very different role. ‘If you follow me, we have your suite ready. And Mr Ferrara asked me to pass on a message when you checked in.’

‘Message?’

The woman cleared her throat. ‘The message was, “Tell him he’s in the Presidential Suite and if it leaks I’m never working with him again.” His words,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m just the messenger. I’m absolutely sure that nothing you designed would ever leak, Mr Jackson.’

Lucas simply laughed and Emma was about to ask why there would be any concern about the Presidential Suite leaking when a pair of glass doors in front of them opened with a smooth hiss and they walked down a gentle slope and into the most breathtakingly beautiful room she’d ever seen.

‘We’re under the water. Oh my—’ she gasped as a shoal of brightly coloured fish swam right in front of her, darting through softly floating fronds of seaweed. ‘It’s amazing. Like being inside an aquarium.’ For some reason she hadn’t noticed this on the model. Or maybe she had, but just hadn’t registered that it would be under the water. She was always so busy, she realised, she never really had a chance to appreciate the scope of his genius. It was truly imaginative. And restful.

‘It’s not entirely under the water. Just this room.’ Frowning, Lucas turned to the woman. ‘I told Cristiano to use the suite.’

‘Mr Ferrara is here with his whole family, including his young daughters,’ the woman said. ‘His security team decided that the Coral Suite is more suitable for small children because it’s possible to close off the pool. And you are, after all, the guest of honour. This amazing, iconic hotel is your brainchild.’ She looked suitably star-struck but if Lucas even noticed, there was no sign of it.

‘Right.’ He put his briefcase down on the table. ‘And when is the Prince arriving?’

‘His Royal Highness sends his apologies. He intended to join you for dinner tonight but instead he finds himself tied up with a delegation from Al Rafid. He looks forward to joining you at the party. As you know, every royal and celebrity in the world has been holding their breath hoping for a ticket.’ Smiling, she handed him a slender object that looked like a remote control. ‘The technology in the hotel is quite staggering but I suppose I don’t need to give you a lesson on that, given that you were involved in all stages of the planning. It’s all voice controlled.’

Voice controlled?

Emma had been so busy gawping that she was barely listening. She’d never been anywhere so luxurious. The use of glass made it feel as if they were actually on the water, part of the sea rather than the land. And it had been furnished to reflect the same sea, soft leather sofas designed for lounging, the floor covered in rugs in marine shades of blue and turquoise.

As the woman left them alone, she glanced around her. ‘Voice controlled? So exactly which part of it is voice controlled?’

Lucas was prowling around the suite, checking various details. ‘Everything. The lights. The blinds on the windows. The sound system. You can operate it all without once moving from the bed.’

His choice of words made her flush but fortunately he wasn’t looking at her.

‘So if I say music—’ She stopped, enchanted as the smooth notes of Chopin flowed through the room. ‘Oh that is so cool.’

Lucas observed her delight with a lifted eyebrow. ‘That is just the default track. List the track you want and it will play it. And you adjust the volume by saying “volume up” and “volume down”. I wish I could install something similar in my clients,’ he drawled. ‘And now you need to get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.’

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

Ever since she’d woken this morning he’d been careful to keep his distance. He’d warned her off. Apart from that one unguarded confession in the kitchen, their relationship had reverted back to employer and employee. During the journey he’d been cold and more than a little intimidating.

But now he wanted to take her to dinner, in this beautifully romantic place where the sun was just setting?

She should say no. Her heart raced away in a frantic rhythm. ‘I don’t have anything to wear.’

His eyes were on his phone as he checked his emails. ‘Avery has just sent a message to confirm that she arranged for a selection of clothes to be delivered to your room. She’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow to shop for something to wear at the party.’

‘But—’

‘Whatever she’s picked out should hopefully be enough to get you through until the morning.’

But Emma wasn’t thinking about the dress. She was thinking about having dinner with him. She was wondering why he’d changed his mind. ‘Lucas—’ Her voice was croaky. ‘Is this a good idea? Do you really want to have dinner?’

‘Of course.’ He didn’t glance up from his emails. ‘The restaurant is the most complex part of this structure. I want to see whether the end result gives the dining experience that I hoped for when I designed it.’

Dining experience?

Emma stood still, horrified to realise how close she’d come to making a total fool of herself yet again. Once again, her brain had twisted his words. A week ago if he’d mentioned dinner she would have assumed it was all about business. Now, she was imagining soft words and the promise of something more, whereas the reality was that when he’d asked her to have dinner with him it hadn’t been a romantic proposition, but a practical one. It wasn’t that he wanted to have dinner with her. It was that he wanted to have dinner in the restaurant he’d designed, and she was supposed to accompany him.

She breathed deeply, hating the fact that she felt disappointed. And as for the hollow feeling inside her—well, she hated that too.

Registering her prolonged silence, he finally glanced up. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Nothing. I’ll just go and change.’

Enough, she thought as she walked quickly into the second bedroom.

Enough.

How much clearer could he make it? Where was her pride and her common sense? From now on she was going to think of him as her boss and nothing else. That way, she not only got to keep her job, she got to keep her sanity.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE situation was a thousand times more delicate to handle than he’d anticipated. He’d seen her face when he’d invited her to dinner and knew instantly that he’d made a major miscalculation. She’d wanted dinner to be something else. Despite all his warnings, she’d hoped. And he, who shattered women’s hopes on a regular basis without thought or care, had found it hard to shatter hers. But shatter them he had and she’d slipped quietly away to the second bedroom with her dignity intact and had been there ever since.

Cursing softly, Lucas dragged his hand over the back of his neck and wondered if she’d been crying. The thought disturbed him far more than he would have expected.

He checked his watch again. Should he knock on the door and check on her? Avery Scott was nothing if not ruthlessly efficient so he doubted that the problem was with the clothes. Something she’d provided was bound to fit, surely? So what was taking her so long?

Reluctant to become embroiled in an emotional conversation that could only make the situation between them even worse, he decided to give her another few minutes.

Restless, he paced through to the living room and switched on the news headlines. If nothing else it would provide him with dinner conversation.

‘I’m ready.’ Her voice came from behind him, crisp and businesslike and he turned, relieved that she sounded like the Emma he knew but then he saw her and realised that this woman was nothing like that Emma.

His instruction to Avery had been to provide clothes. He hadn’t bothered to spell out the fact that those clothes should be practical rather than seductive. He’d seen dinner as an opportunity to talk business, agree the schedule of media interviews and all the other details they had to discuss and had assumed she’d dress accordingly. He’d expected a sober, sensible outfit in muted colours. Instead, he was greeted by a tempting swirl of vivid scarlet that was neither muted nor sober.

The dress flowed rather than clung, the cut and quality of the fabric skimming her curves. Curves that he remembered with disturbing clarity. Curves that sent him from a state of relative calm to one of intense arousal.

Knowing that he was in trouble, Lucas breathed deeply. ‘I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised she’d pick something so—’ he fished for the right word ‘—red. You must be furious.’ He was furious. And he wondered for a moment whether Avery had done it on purpose. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d tried to match him up with someone.

‘You don’t like it?’

‘It’s not exactly...practical.’

‘Well, we’re just sitting eating dinner, so how practical does it have to be?’ Apparently oblivious to his struggle, Emma stroked her hands over her hips. ‘It’s not at all what I would have chosen, which is half the fun if I’m honest. It was clever of her to find something at short notice. I have no idea how she knew my size—’ Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. ‘Ah. You must have told her.’ And if she were embarrassed about that, then there was no sign of it.

Lucas ground his teeth. Wasn’t she supposed to be blushing and shy or something? Instead she seemed aware of her femininity in a way she hadn’t been only days earlier. Or maybe he was the one who was suddenly aware of it. Watching her hands stroke her hips made him think of the way she’d touched him and suddenly he wanted to get her out of the damn dress and into the silk sheets of his bed. But if there was anything more dangerous than sleeping with this woman once it would be sleeping with her twice.

‘If you don’t feel comfortable wearing that to dinner then I can ask the hotel to send something else.’

‘What would be the point of that? And I don’t want to risk offending Avery when I’m finally about to meet her in person. I know I’ve only ever spoken to her on the phone but we get on really well.’ She closed her hand around a slim purse. ‘It’s just a dress, Lucas. I hardly think a dress is going to bother you if it doesn’t bother me.’

It bothered him.

It seriously bothered him but he couldn’t tell her that without taking the conversation into areas he was determined to avoid. Given that fact, he had no choice but to accept the fact that the red dress was her chosen outfit for the evening.

The tension in him mounted. ‘If you’re too tired to join me for dinner I quite understand.’

‘Tired? Don’t be silly. I can’t wait to see the restaurant. I remember it on the model and the plans and I’m so excited. I can’t remember when I last went out to dinner. I mean, I know this is work,’ she added, throwing his own rule right back at him, ‘but I’m ridiculously excited to eat something I haven’t had to cook myself.’ Her enthusiasm was genuine and charming but he didn’t want to be charmed. The feeling unsettled him in a way that was new to him.

Deciding that keeping his hands off her might well turn out to be the biggest challenge of his life, Lucas gestured to the door of the suite. ‘In that case we should go. We have a table reserved. Can you even walk in those shoes?’ They were clearly designed for sex, not walking. Before last night he would never have been able to imagine Emma in shoes like that, but now they formed an erotic addition to those incredible legs.

‘Of course I can. I’ve been practising in my room. That’s why I was late. Watch me.’ Grinning, she walked up to him, a look of triumph on her face. ‘See? I don’t even wobble. It’s all to do with putting your weight on the right part of your foot.’

She was different, he thought. Her skin glowed, her eyes shone, she sparkled.

And then she lost her balance on those heels and tumbled against him. With lightning reflexes, Lucas caught her. His hands closed over her shoulders, his fingers biting into warm flesh. Just that simple touch took him back to the night before and suddenly he wanted all of it again. Her lips, her warmth, her incredible body.

His mouth was dangerously close to hers and he was dangerously close to doing something about that. Furious with himself for being so weak-willed, he gave a growl of frustration and was about to pull away when she calmly detached herself.

‘Oops. Sorry about that. Clearly your first assessment was right. I need more practice in the shoes.’ Not looking at him, she tightened her grip on her purse. ‘Shall we go? We don’t want to be late.’ And, with that, she walked towards the door, the wicked red dress swirling around her gorgeous legs.

* * *

Dropping two phones into her bag, Avery Scott kicked off her shoes and curled up on the soft sofa in the private dressing room of the exclusive boutique. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, but I’ve done enough of these parties to know that I’ll have blisters by ten o’clock if I don’t rest now. This is my last chance to sit down so I’m taking it. So—spill. While we’re waiting for them to bring clothes, tell me all.’

‘Do you seriously have time for this?’ Trying to ease the pain in her feet, Emma flopped down next to her, thinking how nice it was to have female company. Her life was so frantic she’d let her friendships slip. Apart from the occasional exchange at the water cooler, she rarely chatted with anyone. ‘Those shoes were gorgeous but it was a bit like walking round with my feet in the jaws of a crocodile. It’s really kind of you to help me shop, but don’t you have a million other things you should be doing before tonight?’

‘I employ good people and I delegate. Now forget the shoes and tell me how that red dress looked.’

‘It looked great. Too great. Lucas acted as if I’d chosen it on purpose to try and seduce him, which was pretty unfair given that I had nothing to do with it.’

‘So did you? Seduce him, I mean.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Ah.’ Avery’s beautiful eyes sparkled. ‘Want to talk about it?’

‘No. Let’s just say that tonight I’m wearing a grey sack.’ She was joking about it, but inside it didn’t feel funny. It felt hopeless. It didn’t matter what she did, things between them were never going to be the same again. They couldn’t undo what they’d done. ‘I work for him and I really need the job and now I’ve...I’ve messed it up.’

‘How have you messed it up?’

Emma rubbed her fingers over her aching head. ‘It’s not really something I should even be talking about. Just make sure I pick out a boring dress so that I blend into the background tonight.’

Avery shuddered. ‘I’ve never intentionally picked a “boring dress” in my life. I’m not sure I could even if I tried and I don’t intend to try. Tell me what is going on.’

Emma was surprised by how badly she wanted to confide. ‘You don’t need to hear my problems.’

‘Yes, I do. I’m fantastic with other people’s problems. It’s just my own I can’t solve. And you’re not the first woman to sleep with her boss.’

Emma gave a groan but didn’t bother denying it. ‘It’s such a cliché.’ And before she could stop herself she was blurting it all out. Everything. From the loneliness of living alone in London in the week, to the row with her sister and sex on the rug. The only thing she didn’t mention was Lucas’s daughter or the fact that his father had never acknowledged him.