A Midnight Kiss to Seal the Deal

by Sophie Pembroke

  ‘Always,’ she replied.

  There was an anxious-looking production assistant waving at Theo from just off camera. Celeste waved back and pressed a quick kiss to Theo’s cheek before starting to move away.

  Theo grabbed her back and kissed her properly, on the lips. ‘Don’t go far.’

  ‘Promise.’

  She slid away, out of camera view, and watched as the live broadcast on the big screen lit up with Theo’s face again. She hid her smile behind her hand as she realised he had her pillar-box red lipstick liberally smeared around his mouth. Oops.

  ‘And that’s it, folks!’ Theo said finally, wrapping up the live broadcast. ‘The old year has passed, the new one is here. No need to stop celebrating though! And I hope the rest of your night—the rest of your year, for that matter—is as incredible as I hope mine is going to be. Happy New Year, Britain!’

  More cheering as the cameras panned out over the crowds, the river and the Tower of London again. Theo shook hands with a dozen or more people as he made his way towards her, but Celeste didn’t mind the wait.

  He was right. They had a whole year to make special—and, she hoped, a whole lifetime. Together.

  Finally, he reached her side and took her hand in his. ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Our future.’

  Celeste smiled. ‘Absolutely.’ History was her first love, of course. But even it couldn’t live up to the prospect of a future with the man she loved more than anything.

  * * *

  If you missed the previous story in the Cinderellas in the Spotlight duet, then check out

  Awakening His Shy Cinderella

  And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Sophie Pembroke

  Italian Escape with Her Fake Fiancé

  Second Chance for the Single Mom

  Snowbound with the Heir

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Tempted by the Tycoon’s Proposal by Rachael Stewart.

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  Tempted by the Tycoon’s Proposal

  by Rachael Stewart

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘SOPH, WE HAVE a situation.’

  Normally those words from her extremely capable assistant hotel manager would have had Sophia Lambert on edge, but not today. Today, she needed the distraction. In fact, she’d take a month of situations just to get through January and keep the past at bay.

  Taking a breath, she turned from her computer screen to give Andrew a smile and felt it freeze midway.

  Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Andrew was unflappable and yet his age-old wrinkles were creased tight, his warm eyes bright with concern.

  Maybe this would be a distraction too far...

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The McGregor child has gone missing.’

  ‘Missing?’ Her semi-smile became a frown. The McGregors were staying in the penthouse suite, one of the most luxurious suites London had to offer and as such rarely used. Only the richest of the rich could afford its extortionate nightly rate and the billionaire businessman McGregor was one such man.

  A widower too. Not that Sophia knew this first-hand; the trusty grapevine of the hotel trade was responsible for that. His financial status and the tragic tale of a hit-and-run that took his wife three years ago, and almost took his child too, had spread far and wide thanks to the world’s media. She could just imagine how fast news of his child being missing would spread...

  ‘She came back with her nanny just after lunch and before they made it to her room...’ He shrugged, the move stilted with unease. ‘Poof—vanished.’

  Sophia shook her head and pushed herself out of her seat. ‘A little girl can hardly vanish.’

  Although, if she was honest, she’d disappear if she was in the care of that particular woman. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the illustrious McGregor yet—he hadn’t arrived—but she’d met his little miss of a daughter and the battle-axe caring for her.

  She approached him in the doorway. ‘We have twelve floors, one hundred and thirty rooms, cupboards, trolleys, luggage; if the girl wants to hide, she’s in the right place. There’s no need to think the worst.’

  He scratched his brow. ‘I hope so.’

  ‘Come on.’ She started off down the corridor that led into the main foyer. ‘Where have you tried?’

  ‘The toilets, the public rooms downstairs, the lifts and stairwell.’

  ‘Okay, who’s on the search?’

  ‘Everyone who’s not needed out front. I even have the maids who were due to clock off hunting and Marie has taken Ms Archer back to the penthouse to calm her nerves.’

  Marie was a good choice. Calm, efficient, matronly even, and a fabulous head housekeeper. ‘Good.’

  ‘But it’s been half an hour; we’ll have to call the police soon.’

  ‘We’ll find her.’ Sophia paused to rest a hand on his shoulder. ‘What about CCTV?’

  He nodded. ‘We’ve checked. She was last seen heading towards the conference room on the second floor.’

  ‘And you’ve tried there?’

  ‘Of course—no joy.’

  ‘But there’s no sign of her leaving the building?’

  He shook his head. ‘Absolutely none.’

  ‘There we go; she has to be here somewhere. We just have to think like a child and we’ll find her. I’m going to head up to the conference room; you carry on the search down here. Call me if you find her.’

  ‘Will do.’

  They branched off and Sophia took to the stairs. She wasn’t ready to worry yet. Things and people went missing in hotels every day and it was their job to see it resolved, to keep the guests happy. Which included Little Miss Trouble and her elusive father.

  The conference room looked deserted, tables and chairs all stacked neatly to one side ready to be laid out for a company’s belated Christmas function. One table had already been set up, a red cloth covering it, with flowers, glassware and napkins all arranged to the organisers’ exacting standards. But no child.

  She turned to leave and then something caught her eye. She looked back, eyes narrowing on the tablecloth. She could have sworn it had fluttered.

  ‘Hello?’ She took a tentative step towards it. Another flutter. Definite this time. ‘Hello?’

  This time she got a small giggle in response and her heart lifted. ‘Is that you, Miss McGregor?’

  * * *

  ‘I don’t have time for this, Connor. Why wasn’t it on our radar?’

  Jack scowled at the hotel doorman. It wasn’t intentional—his mind was on the call—but it got the door opened promptly and he was off, striding across the foyer. He pressed the button to call the lift and threw his focus down the line, surveying the room with unseeing eyes.

  ‘We hadn’t even heard of them before today,’ Connor was saying. ‘Apparently it’s some new start-up that’s done well enough to outbid us.’

  Fantastic. This was all he needed. The plan had been to fly into London, stay for a week—two at most—get the takeover signed and get out again. He hated the city at the best of times. Too cold, too grey, too loaded with the past.

  ‘Well, get digging. I want to know all there is by close of play t—’

  ‘Er...excuse me, Mr McGregor.’

  Jack frowned and turned towards the voice. A quick appraisal of the man’s uniform and badge told him he was the assistant manager and he looked nervous, his hands wringing before him.

  ‘Hang on, Connor... Yes?’

  ‘I’m afraid, sir...�
�� he bowed his head slightly ‘...we have a...situation.’

  The guy had to be kidding. Was this really going to be his life today? Connor had used the exact same words not twenty minutes ago.

  ‘What kind of situation?’ He couldn’t think for a second what it would be. Was his room not ready? Had there been a double booking? Nothing could be worse than Connor’s unwelcome news. ‘Well?’

  The guy stopped wringing his hands and placed them behind his back, his chin lifting. ‘It’s your daughter... I’m afraid she’s gone—’

  His walkie-talkie sounded as Jack’s stomach took a dive, and the manager jolted as he scrambled to pull the device out of the pocket of his hotel-issue blazer. ‘Yes?’

  Jack couldn’t catch what was said over the blood ringing in his ears, his patience hanging by a thread. What the devil was going on? What had Lily done now?

  The guy physically relaxed before him, his body deflating as he blew out a gust of air. ‘That’s great news. Thank you!’

  He repocketed the device and smiled up at him. ‘I’m very happy to report all is well.’

  Jack just frowned. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Sorry, Jack,’ Connor piped down the phone line, ‘like I was saying—’

  ‘Not you...you.’ He glared at the manager, now flushing crimson.

  ‘Pardon me, sir. It’s just...it seems your daughter decided to play a little hide-and-seek with Ms Archer this afternoon. However, she has now been found and—’

  He cursed, his head and heart racing with a multitude of what-ifs that didn’t even matter now that she was found, but they existed anyway. ‘How long was she missing?’

  ‘Well... I... It was...’ He started to wring his hands again. ‘I’m not sure. Perhaps Ms Archer can explain. I’ll take you to your daughter, shall I? She’s with Ms Lambert, our hotel manager.’

  Jack gave him a brusque nod. ‘Connor, I’ll call you back.’ He cut the line and followed after the manager, who was already walking away faster than his advancing years would suggest possible.

  Jack shook his head and pulled at his tie, easing it away from his neck as his skin prickled and perspired, the stress building in spite of her safety. This really was not his day. And as far as Lily’s nanny-cum-tutor went, maybe it was time to find another—something Lily would no doubt appreciate.

  But he paid her to look after Lily twenty-four-seven and in the last two weeks alone she had misplaced her a dozen times. He really was at his wits’ end, let alone his nerves.

  Finding another would take time—time he didn’t have. What he really should be doing was explaining the dangers to his daughter, making her realise her safety was more important than whatever distraction she had sought out this time. And he could just imagine how much of that she would take on board. She was too much like her mother: free-spirited, impulsive, a sitting target for another hit-and-run or, heaven forbid, a kidnapper seeking a ridiculous ransom sum.

  And how exactly did he tell his five-year-old daughter that her father’s success made her a target? That for all he worked to ensure their financial stability and a quality of life that far exceeded anything he had ever known, she was to be caged by it too. Maybe it was high time he employed a security detail. He’d avoided it thus far, trying to retain some normality for his daughter, but he wasn’t sure how many more of these incidents, these disappearing acts, he could take.

  ‘They’re just this way, Mr McGregor...’ the manager said, ending Jack’s troubled inner ramblings as he pushed open a door and gestured for him to enter.

  He gave him a grim nod, being too strung-out to speak. And it wasn’t this guy’s fault his temper was frayed. It was all—

  He didn’t get to finish the thought. He was too surprised to do anything but gawp.

  And he never gawped.

  Before him was a festive table. A festive table with a pair of nude stilettos attached to dainty ankles and slender calves poking out beneath its deep red tablecloth.

  What the devil?

  * * *

  Within minutes of meeting the little girl, Sophia found herself lying on her back beneath the beautifully laid table staring at its underside, while Miss McGregor flashed a torch at it.

  ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ The little girl rolled the r as she waved her hand at the star constellation the torch projected.

  ‘It is...and clever... Is this what you’ve been doing all this time? You know Ms Archer has been quite worried about you.’

  The girl gave a dramatic frown, her eyes, dark in the low light, now appeared both serious and disappointed at once. Here it came—the excuse. There always was one with children and Sophia had a sneaky suspicion she was going to be reeled in regardless.

  ‘She never lets me look at the stars. She says it’s a waste of my noggin.’ She prodded her forehead with one forefinger as she stared Sophia down. ‘That I should be learning my maths and reading.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure Ms Archer just wants what’s best for you.’

  She looked back to the lit-up stars. ‘I’m going to be an astronaut; I don’t need maths...or the books she wants me to read.’

  Sophia gave a soft laugh. ‘Maths will certainly help you if that’s what you want to be when you grow up.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  She sighed heavily, her bottom lip jutting out. ‘Maybe I will try a little—’

  ‘What on earth?’ The heavy booming voice took over the girl’s and her eyes widened as she switched off the torch.

  ‘Uh-oh, Daddy’s mad.’

  Daddy’s mad... Oh, no.

  Sophia imagined the scene from Mr McGregor’s eyes and felt the heat radiate out from her middle, her cheeks burning bright. All he would see were her calves and her shoes, like something out of The Wizard of Oz... Only her shoes weren’t red; they were nude and attached to her. No witch, just a blushing hotel manager about to face the music.

  Not that there was anything to be apologetic or embarrassed about. She’d found his daughter and really he ought to be grateful for that, not—

  ‘Lily, come out here this minute.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the little girl whispered to Sophia, her hair a bobbing mass of dark ringlets as she clambered onto her knees and crawled out backward. She made it look so simple, almost graceful, and Sophia ought to do the same.

  She really ought to.

  Really, really ought to.

  But there was something vulnerable about being caught lying on your back beneath a table, the oddity of the situation leaving her quite incapable of thinking straight.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing, running out on Ms Archer like that?’

  Sophia couldn’t make out the girl’s response, just a short, sharp sniff. The next thing she knew, the tablecloth was being flicked up and the most dramatic pair of grey eyes speared her. ‘Ms Lambert, I presume?’

  She looked down her nose at him, literally, since she was still lying back on the floor and wishing the ground would swallow her up. Particularly as the eyes spearing her were far too attractive and far too hard all at once.

  Get with it, Sophia.

  She cleared her throat and rolled onto her knees, mimicking his daughter’s method, only she was very much focused on tugging her dress as low as possible over her behind and doing her utmost to avoid not only his eye but his entire body.

  Even in his crouched position he exuded a panther-like grace. All power, sinew and strength, in a dark suit complete with tie...and the effect he was having on her pulse really wasn’t helping her focus on words. Words of any shape or form.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr McGregor,’ she said, finally standing and lifting her gaze, only to wish she’d kept it lowered. Yes, she knew he was a widower. Yes, she knew he was the father to a young daughter. Yes, she knew he had a reputation for being a bit of a looker. But fo
r some reason she’d had him pegged as being older, his reputation stemming from money and power, not a seriously impressive frame and a face that belonged on the cover of a magazine.

  His body too, she was sure—

  She swallowed and cut the thought dead. It was entirely inappropriate and in no way helping her function in a manner befitting her professional role. He was a guest for goodness’ sake, a very important guest, the kind she should be impressing, not... What exactly was she doing?

  ‘Jack.’ He offered his hand and she jumped a little.

  Great. Now she just looked scared. And judging by the way his brow lifted and his lips—his very full and teasing lips—quirked he’d not missed her overreaction either. Even better...

  ‘Sophia.’ She forced a smile and quickly slotted her hand in his, but his eyes stayed locked with hers, their intensity making her feel exposed, as if he could read every debauched thought racing through her mind and her cheeks flushed all over again.

  Another swallow, another breath and a shake of the hand. At least she hoped she’d shaken it because the warmth zinging along her fingers, through her wrist, her arm and settling somewhere around her tummy made it hard to focus on the actual giving of a handshake.

  He didn’t seem disturbed though; his eyes were sharp as they assessed her. For what she couldn’t really tell, but she had a fair idea what a panther’s prey felt like seconds before it pounced.

  Maybe it was his unruly dark hair, the rich colour to his skin and the slant to his dramatic grey eyes that had her heading down the wild-cat route. Whatever the case, she was off on some weird tangent where professionalism continued to evade her.

  ‘I like Sphea. Can she come for tea, Daddy?’

  What? No! Sophia’s laugh came out a strangled mess, thankfully drowned out by a sudden bellow from the man before her. So the panther was capable of laughter. Fascinating. And distracting. Especially when she should be drawing a line under that right now. She did not socialise, fraternise or any other ise with the clientele.