Harlequin Romance December 2020 Box Set

by Susan Meier, Sophie Pembroke, Jessica Gilmore

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE NEXT DAY, meeting with Erin as she quickly reported on the progress of the details of the Christmas Eve celebration, Hugo was in awe. She was every bit as shrewd as he was in getting her own way and every bit as tough of a negotiator.

  But something had happened the night before. Every time he’d looked at her, a weird sensation had shuffled through him. At first, he’d taken it as a continuation of his surprise to discover her disrespectful remarks amused him. But the more he’d stood in her quarters, the more times their gazes linked, the more he noticed odd little things about her. Things he liked.

  Sitting in front of his desk, notebook on her lap, pen in hand, glasses perched on her nose, she went on with their meeting, totally oblivious to his confusing thoughts.

  “The Christmas trees are ordered. Even the huge one for the ballroom.”

  Taking in her simple blue T-shirt that outlined nice-sized breasts and her worn jeans, he told himself that it was okay to agree that she could wear work clothes in a dusty hotel that was being renovated. But the nice-sized breasts observation was one of those unexpected things again.

  Not that she wasn’t attractive. She was. Maybe too attractive.

  Seeing she was waiting for a response, he said, “Great. The trees are very important to the overall scheme of things.”

  “I saw that. I got the general idea of the size for each one from the old photos you gave to the contractor recreating the rooms and lobby.”

  Her hair caught up in a ponytail was also cute. Though it was abundantly practical when working in a construction zone, he liked it. He also loved that she hadn’t lost one iota of her stunning beauty when she quit wearing makeup. The dusty environment had probably forced that too. But it had made his breath catch to see her skin clean and shiny, her bright eyes every bit as luminous without shadows and liners or whatever it was women used to make themselves pretty.

  She needed none of it.

  And it was confusingly odd that he reacted to that too.

  “I’ve been in the attic with Terry and Dave and we’ve uncovered a treasure trove of decorations.”

  All thoughts of how pretty she was fled at the mention of decorations. He sat up. “The originals?”

  Her blue eyes shone with victory. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but they’ve been up there a long time, as if put in storage when the hotel changed hands and never used after that. With your brother and sister both out of the country, I’m going to need you to come up to the attic to look at them. Because you’re only in the hotel a few hours a day, I called your assistant and made an appointment with you for this afternoon at one.”

  He laughed. “You made an appointment with me?”

  She peeked up at him again. “You’re a busy man. I don’t assume you’ll be free. I knew we had too much to discuss to squeeze it in this morning, so I called your assistant.”

  Which was another thing that made her so successful. She left nothing to chance. He adored that about her.

  Actually, he now liked a lot of things about her. Too many. Especially for a guy who didn’t date—

  No, that wasn’t true. He dated a lot. He didn’t have relationships. Erin was a relationship kind of girl. He might not have known she had a child, but he knew she’d been married and was a widow.

  A widow.

  Not the kind of woman a man dated for fun.

  His thoughts about how much he liked her fled in the wake of that reality and pulled him out of the haze of whatever the hell seemed to be happening to him when he looked at her. With his brain back on track, they finished the meeting and she left his office, her arms stacked with papers.

  After shrugging into his overcoat, he walked out to his limo, but rather than step inside, he turned and glanced at the hotel again. He’d put Erin in Harrington Park, instead of with his staff, because he wanted her to get a feel for the building. As the renovations were completed, he’d wanted her to breathe in the ambience.

  Now he wondered if it wasn’t a good idea for them to be separated. He didn’t normally feel attractions like this one. Having space between them worked.

  That afternoon, Hugo was back at the hotel for the meeting Erin had set with him. He exited his limo under the portico and raced into the lobby of the building, happy to see most of the scaffolding was gone. Probably moved to another section of the hotel. That meant the lobby painting was done. Now the registration desk would be sanded and stained to match the one from decades ago. Soon lighting fixtures would be installed like the ones from when his parents owned the hotel. Flooring would be next. Then the custom drapes. Then area rugs. All things that would bring his past to life again.

  When Erin met him in front of his office door, strange tingling feelings of delight washed over him. Because they were wrong, he convinced himself he wasn’t happy to see her but happy to be going to the attic, hopefully confirming that all the beautiful ornaments really had been stored and could be shined and hung on this year’s tree.

  “Give me two minutes to put my briefcase on my desk.”

  “You can take off your overcoat too.” She winced, but her smile ruined the feelings of contrition he was sure she aimed to display. “You should probably ditch your suit jacket as well.”

  He did more than that. He took off his suit coat, loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. He knew the attic would be dusty and should have thought of this himself.

  “How’s this?”

  “Magnificent,” she said as she led him to the elevator that took them to the top floor of the hotel and down the hall to the hidden stairway to the attic.

  When she opened the door, his past twinkled at him.

  He took the last few stairs into the room filled with cobwebs, dust and memories, and his heart chugged to a stop.

  She’d had Terry and Dave string the lights along the beams of the roof so he could easily identify them. Heirloom ornaments were displayed on long tables she’d commandeered from the kitchen.

  Memories assaulted him. Christmas memories. He shoved away the visions of the night his stepfather had kicked him out and his mother had stood by passively, her silence telling him more than her words ever could have. He focused instead on the childhood memories of waking up Christmas Eve morning, filled with excitement over that night’s party. The visit from Santa. The laughter of his parents—his dad alive and so full of enthusiasm it rippled from their living quarters through the hotel lobby, down the halls, into the kitchen, the ballrooms, the guest rooms, filling everyone with unbridled joy.

  There’d been secrets, like the one Christmas Eve when a powerful businessman stopped the dancing at the ball to propose to his longtime girlfriend, making every guest a part of his proposal. Everyone had laughed with joy and toasted with champagne. Or the time a guest had received word she was pregnant after a decade of trying. Everyone had cried with happiness for her.

  Because guests had been repeat visitors. Year after year, they’d gotten to know each other, become like family.

  He touched the ornaments. Bright reds, golds and greens to be put on a green tree with gold tinsel and a gold star, all of which accented the special ornaments he, his brother and his sister had put on the tree. A new one for every year.

  The plan had been for the special family ornaments to eventually replace the red, gold and green decorations, and for the tree to be filled with only ornaments placed by the siblings—

  Then their father had died.

  He cleared his throat, let the sadness wash through him until it thinned out and disappeared. Then he glanced at Erin. “Yes. These are all for the tree. Only white lights, though. The red and green strands were for the doorways of the lobby. We’ll need live garland. Especially for the main stairway.”

  He pointed at a box of all red ornaments. “Those decorate the garland on the banister.”

 
He could see it. His dad bigger than life. His mum always laughing, involving her children. The best mum in the world because she’d loved them—

  He’d always believed she loved him.

  He closed his eyes and took a breath hoping to stop the memories, but they seeped into his thoughts, into his psyche, like ghosts with nowhere to go, so they haunted his soul.

  Holding on to his composure by a thread, he pointed at a box of green and gold. “And those go on garland hung on the reception desk.”

  She frowned. “Hmmm…it’s not done. It’s not even stained yet—”

  Overcome with emotion, he turned on his heel and headed for the stairway. “It will be. It will all be ready on Christmas Eve.”

  He strode to his office, fighting the emptiness of missing his parents and the confusion of his last night with his mum, wishing his life had been different and longing to rebuild his relationship with his siblings. He’d been their older brother, their protector. And then suddenly he was nothing.

  No one.

  He sat behind his desk, still reeling from seeing the decorations, and closed his eyes. Not in despair, but in confusion. He knew seeing everything would bring back memories, but he’d genuinely believed he had gotten beyond his mother asking him to leave. He’d become a man, a success. Why did he care?

  Two taps on his door forced his eyelids up, shoving him back to the present. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Erin gingerly stepped inside. “Are you okay?”

  The very question raised his nerve endings like porcupine quills. He didn’t like being weak, confused. Worse, he didn’t want his staff to see it. “Of course, I’m okay.”

  “Mr. Harrington—Hugo—I’ve seen you angry, and though you scared Terry and Dave when you stormed out of the attic, that wasn’t anger.”

  He sat back, took a slow breath. “Didn’t fool you, huh?”

  She ventured a few more steps into the room. “It was close. And then I asked myself who gets angry over gorgeous antique ornaments? No one.”

  “So, you answered yourself?”

  “If you’re trying to make me think I’m crazy for talking to myself, that’s not going to work either.” She took another two steps. “Something’s very wrong here. And I’m worried that I’m going to spend the next two weeks creating a wonderful event only to have you ruin it.”

  “Me?” He gaped at her. “Ruin it?” He pointed at his chest. “I’m going to ruin it?”

  “I know when something’s bubbling under the surface.”

  Only one of his eyebrows rose.

  She huffed out a breath. “Seriously, you dragged me to London for a project that’s almost too big to pull off. You’re a bundle of nerves. And the press is watching you. Which will mean if you snap and the big Christmas Eve grand opening fails… Guess whose name will be ruined in London and probably Manhattan because you’re such a hot item all over the globe?”

  He said nothing.

  “I don’t fail, Hugo. If you’re pushing to prove something, that’s a recipe for disaster and I want no part of it.”

  “I’m not pushing to prove something.” He sat back. “And I won’t snap.”

  “Says every person right before they snap.”

  He would have laughed except he could see in her eyes that she was serious. He also knew why. She had a child to support. If this failed and her business suffered, her income would nosedive.

  He tried to envision anyone else capable of accomplishing the grand opening celebration he wanted and knew there was no one else. They had not quite two weeks left, and she was knee-deep in the details. He couldn’t bring in another person. He had to keep her.

  He also had to make sure she didn’t fail. He’d never forgive himself if he took food out of the mouth of a child. He’d been hungry one too many times himself in those weeks after he’d been kicked out. He knew that anguish just a little too well.

  He rose and walked to the closet, where he grabbed his jacket and his overcoat. “All right. You’re right. I am tense. But I probably just need a release valve.” He didn’t exactly want to talk, but if he did, what better person to vent to than someone he only saw every few months? Not even an employee, but a subcontractor. Someone who had more reason to keep his secrets than spill them.

  “But not here.” If he did let loose, he didn’t want anyone to overhear. “Have you been sightseeing yet?”

  She frowned at him. “I’m at the hotel twelve hours a day. Home in time to put Noah to bed, as you promised. But not home in time to sightsee.”

  “Do you like hot cocoa?”

  “Everyone likes hot cocoa.”

  “Get your coat and meet me outside. I’ll show you the one place you’re going to want to be sure to take your son.”

  They rode in his limo to the Southbank. It wasn’t a long trip, but it was long enough that Erin about broke her neck, her head moving from side to side, as she tried to take it all in.

  He laughed, and for the first time since he’d been to the attic, some of his tension released. “London has a lot to see.”

  “I know.” She smiled at him. “I can’t wait.”

  More of his tension abated. “It’s a beautiful city.”

  The car let them off and he pointed out Westminster Bridge and Big Ben as they began their walk along the Thames.

  She gasped. “There is no feeling to describe being places that you thought you’d only see in pictures. It’s surreal! Almost like I can’t believe I’m here.”

  He glanced at the bridge, then Big Ben again, viewing both with fresh eyes. “I guess you’re right.” He breathed in the crisp air—Christmas air. He could suddenly feel the holiday coming to life around him, overriding his memories.

  More of his tension ebbed. His head cleared.

  Maybe he’d just needed some fresh air?

  When they reached the Beltane&Pop van, he directed her to look at the flavors and asked what she wanted.

  Her mouth opened in surprise and finally she laughed. “You know what? Just plain old hot cocoa.”

  He ordered two and they began their walk again in the crisp air. The sun was bright, but dark clouds eased in. Soon snow would be falling.

  She took a sip and groaned. “This is fabulous.”

  Calm settled over him, along with the unexpected sense that he was happy to be out of the office, a sure sign of overwork, not overwhelm. Meaning, he was fine. “We like to think it’s the best in the world.”

  Her head tilted as she turned to look at him. “That’s the first time you’ve ever referred to London in a way that makes me think it’s your home.”

  “You saw the newspaper article. I didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  He shrugged, took a sip of his own hot cocoa and said, “Honestly? I think I’ve been pushing too hard and it all came to the surface this afternoon.”

  “That’s interesting because I thought maybe you were trying to recreate something you worry can’t be recreated.”

  Her comment hit him right in the heart. He’d never verbalized it to himself, but deep down that was his fear. Not merely because his father was the engine of their joyous Christmas Eve celebrations, but because his brother seemed to have accepted his return only grudgingly, and his sister clearly hated him.

  But as much as he trusted Erin, he wouldn’t tell her that. He’d stick with his story that he’d been working too hard. Because coming outside had proved it to be true. The walk had cleared his head, and he wasn’t noticing those odd things about Erin—

  Which was the real reason it would be incredibly foolish to confide in her. He liked her. And she wasn’t right for him. Or maybe he wasn’t right for her. A woman with a child needed a relationship, not a one-night stand. And he was Mr. One-Night Stand.

  “Yes and no.”
He peeked at her. “The project is ambitious and tied to some memories. It would be wonderful to recreate them, but I know there are things that I can’t get exactly right. So, I only need to get close to what we had.” He took a breath, then smiled. “When have you ever known me to fail?”

  * * *

  Erin studied the confident expression on his face. Whatever had upset him, it was gone. Or tucked away to pop out when they least needed it? Like the day of the grand opening?

  “Come on. You said you wanted to talk.”

  “No. You said I needed to talk. But I don’t. I’m fine. You saw the newspaper article. I’m heartless.”

  Before the trip to the attic she had believed that. But watching his happiness at seeing the family ornaments morph into something deep and profound, something that looked like amazement colored with sadness, she wasn’t so sure.

  Here they were, at a crossroads, a place where he could talk, confide a fact or two or keep everything bottled up, and he picked silence.

  She took another sip of the perfect hot cocoa as they walked into a market dedicated to Christmas. Light and color winked at her. Part of her simply wanted to enjoy the break. To let him be the stubborn man he always was.

  The other part—the part that knew this could blow up in their faces—tried one more time. “I don’t think you’re heartless.”

  “What? You mean all that anger you had for me after reading the article about the hotel was fake?”

  Her face reddened. “It’s the first personal thing I’d ever read about you.”

  “And you chose to believe it. Out of hand. No other facts at your disposal, after working with me for two and a half years, you chose to believe it.”

  “It’s not like I really stopped and made a choice—”

  “No kidding.” He turned around. “We have our cocoa and you know to bring your son here on your sightseeing day. Plus, we both have tons of work.” He smiled but the sentiment didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s time we got back.”

  He started walking without waiting to see if she’d follow him.