With good reason.
She was naked, alone and at the mercy of a man who almost certainly meant her no good. But, far from fleeing, his touch was like an electric charge and all her instincts were telling her to forget modesty, let the towel fall and cooperate with whatever he had in mind. One hundred per cent.
She forced herself to take a step away, put some distance between them, get a grip. Regretting it the minute she did. There was something about his touch that made her feel safe. Made her feel…
‘And that’s not my name,’ she added, cutting off the thought before she lost it entirely.
‘No?’ He flipped something from his pocket and offered it to her. ‘If the shoe fits…’
He was still carrying her shoe?
‘What do you think this is?’ she demanded, ignoring the shoe. ‘A pantomime? I’m all through with the Cinderella thing, Mr Hart.’
‘You know who I am?’
‘Mr Alyson told me. You’re Nathaniel Hart and you own this store.’
‘I run it. Not the same thing.’
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t sure why that was better, but somehow it was. She was totally off billionaire tycoons. ‘I just assumed…’
‘Most people do.’
‘Well, if the name fits,’ she said and thought she got the tiniest response. Just a hint of a smile. But maybe she was imagining it. ‘What do you want, Mr Hart?’
‘Nothing. On the contrary, I’m your fairy godmother.’
She stared at him but said nothing. She was in enough trouble without stating the obvious.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said.
‘I promise you, you haven’t got a clue.’
‘You’re thinking where is the frilly skirt? Where are the wings?’
No… Not even close. ‘Trust me, it would not be a good look for you. Take my advice, stick with the pin- stripes.’
‘Well, I’m glad you take that view.’
The barest suspicion of a smile became a twitch of the lips, curling around her, warm, enticing. Tempting. Heating up bits that it would take a very long cold shower to beat into line and she was very glad indeed that he hadn’t got a clue.
‘Hastings & Hart takes its role as an equal opportunities employer very seriously,’ he assured her.
‘We have to take our fairy godmothers wherever we can find them in these enlightened days,’ she agreed, firmly resisting the temptation to fling herself into his arms and invite him to make free with his magic wand. Instead, she tightened her lips, keeping them pressed down in a straight line. A smile meant nothing, she told herself. Anyone could smile. It was easy. You just stretched your lips wide…
But he was really good at it. It wasn’t just the corner of his mouth doing something that hit all the right buttons. It had reached all the way up to his eyes and the warmth of it reached deep within her, turning her insides liquid.
She clutched the towel a little tighter. ‘I guess the real test comes with Santa Claus? Would you employ a woman for that role?’ she asked a touch desperately.
The lines carved into his cheeks became deeper, bracketing his mouth. And the silver sparks in his eyes had not been reflections of the Christmas decorations, she realised, but were all his own. It was all there now. Every part of his face was engaged and while it wasn’t a pretty smile, it was all the more dangerous for that.
‘Not my decision, thank goodness. Human Resources have the responsibility of employing the best person for the job and keeping me on the right side of the law.’
She tutted. ‘Passing the buck.’
‘There has to be some advantage to go with the name,’ he replied, ‘but, as far as fairy godmothers go, right now I’m not just your best option, I appear to be the only one.’
‘Oh?’ she said, putting on a brave front. If she was going down, she refused to be a pushover. ‘Why do you think that?’
‘Because if there had been anyone you could ask for help you wouldn’t be hiding out in Santa’s grotto dressed as an elf. You’d have used the phone you were carrying to call them.’
‘Who says I’m hiding?’ she demanded. ‘That I need help.’
‘The fact that you’re here, prepared to risk getting caught on the premises after closing, speaks for itself.’
She couldn’t argue with his logic. He had it, spot on, but she still had the backup excuse. ‘I’m just late leaving,’ she said. ‘I needed a shower before I start my other job.’
He shook his head.
‘You’re not buying it?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Oh, well. It was worth a shot.’ She managed a shrug even though her heart was hammering in her mouth. ‘So. What happens now?’
‘I congratulate you on your ingenuity?’ he suggested. ‘Ask how you managed to get yourself kitted out with an elf costume so that you could hide out in Santa’s grotto?’
‘I’m smart?’
‘Obviously. But, if you managed it, there are security issues involved.’
‘Oh, look, it wasn’t anyone’s fault,’ she said quickly. Clearly the game was up for her, but she couldn’t allow anyone else to suffer. ‘I was mistaken for a temp who was expected but never turned up and it was too good an opportunity to miss. Pam won’t get into trouble, will she? She was desperate. Not just desperate but sick,’ she stressed. ‘Well, you know that since you took her home.’
‘Don’t worry about Pam, worry about yourself,’ he said, the smile fading.
She shivered. Not from fear. This man was not a bully. He wasn’t crowding her, there was no suggestion of the physical threat that had seemed so real in the press conference. Why she’d run.
He was much more dangerous than that.
He could bring her down with a look. As if to prove it, he reached for a dry towel and draped it around her shoulders, assuming that she was cold. His touch tingled through her and she knew that all he had to do was put his hand to her back and she’d put up her hands, surrender without a struggle.
Fortunately, he didn’t know that.
‘What were you planning to do next?’ he asked, not lingering, but taking a step back, putting clear air between them.
‘Get dressed?’ she suggested.
‘And then?’ he persisted.
‘I thought I might bed down in one of your tents.’ There seemed little point in lying about it. ‘I noticed them yesterday when I was Christmas shopping. I’ve never been camping,’ she added.
‘It’s overrated. Especially in the middle of winter.’
‘I don’t know. I could brew myself some tea on one of those little camp stoves. Fry a few sausages for my supper. I’d leave the money for the food on the till in the food hall.’ She clutched the towel a little more tightly against her bosom. ‘Maybe have a bit of a sing-song to keep my spirits up,’ she added a touch recklessly. ‘I did work for three hours for nothing. And I was planning to work tomorrow on the same terms. Bed and breakfast seems a reasonable exchange.’
‘More than reasonable,’ he agreed. ‘Which one did you have your eye on?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Which tent? I can recommend the one-man Himalayan. I’m told that it’s absolutely draught-proof.’
‘Oh. Right. Well, thanks.’
‘I’d strongly advise against the cooking, though. The security staff are based on the same floor and the smoke alarms are extremely sensitive.’
