Christmas with the Maverick Millionaire

Her body gave the slightest backward jerk, as if she was deciding how to answer the question. Then she took another sip of her tea and rolled her eyes at him. Her muscles relaxed a little, as if she was shaking off a little of her tension. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but there’s no Mr Lewis at present. I’m still interviewing possible contenders.’

Oh. He liked that. But she wasn’t finished.

‘So, Mitchell Brody—and is that your real name?—should I expect to find the latest female movie star or model hiding in the one of the cupboards in here?’

He grinned. A sparring partner. Samantha Lewis might even be fun. ‘Yes, Mitchell Brody is my real name. And, no, there’s no females hiding in cupboards, but I reserve the right for that to change.’

Something flitted across her eyes and the soft smile vanished in an instant. ‘Are you expecting someone to join you soon?’

What was that? The tiniest spark of jealousy? He pushed the thought from his head in an instant. Ridiculous. She was his nurse. Nothing else. No matter how cute she looked.

‘No.’ He shook his head and held his hands out. ‘To be honest, this place is my sanctuary. I’ve never brought a female...’ he lifted his fingers in the air and made invisible quote marks ‘...friend back here. Dave’s the only person you’ll find sloping about. Oh, and the local maid service that comes in every day for a tidy up. That reminds me.’ He stood up and walked over to the other side of the table where his phone lay.

‘What are you doing?’

He scrolled through his messages. ‘I got a text earlier and with everything that’s happened I forgot to reply.’ He looked around the room. ‘What do you think? Red and gold? Blues and silver, or purples and pinks? No.’ He gave a shudder at that last one.

‘Red and gold for what?’ She wrinkled her nose up again, it really did define the cute factor in her.

‘The colour of the tree and Christmas decorations. The tree will come tomorrow, I just need to tell them what colours I want.’ He looked around the sitting room. It really was looking kind of sparse. The tree and other decorations would give it a little warmth to match the fireplace that he’d forgotten to turn on.

‘You get someone to bring you a tree and decorate it?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, every year. I just need to tell them what colours I want. What do you think?’

She shifted in her chair. ‘Why are you asking me? It’s your house, not mine.’

She was being a little frosty with him. He’d liked the version from a few minutes earlier. A sparring partner with some twinkle in her eye.

‘Well, you’re going to be here over Christmas too. I’d hate to pick something that made you shudder every time you walked in the door. I usually do this at the beginning of December, but with being ill and all I just kind of forgot about it.’ He walked over to a big empty space next to the far wall. ‘This is where the tree normally goes. They usually put some décor around the fireplace too.’

Her eyes narrowed as she looked around. ‘It depends what you want. Red and gold would give some warmth to the place, but blue and silver would probably fit more with your white walls and pale floors.’

He sat down in the chair next to her and gave her a nudge in the ribs. ‘Yeah, but which one would you like?’

He was teasing her again. Trying to goad that spark back into her eyes.

She gave a little sigh and took the last gulp of her tea. ‘I think I’d probably like the red and gold best.’ She hesitated. ‘But you’re missing out. Putting up the Christmas decorations is one of the best parts of Christmas. Getting someone else to do it for you?’ She shook her head and glanced at her watch. ‘Right, it’s time to check your blood sugar again. If it’s okay, you can do your night-time injection and go to bed. We’ll have a chat about things in the morning.’

Something had just flickered past her eyes. A feeling of regret perhaps? It didn’t matter how much he was paying Sam Lewis, she was still missing Christmas with her family to do this job. Maybe he should give that a little more thought?

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re giving me permission to go to bed?’ He let out a little laugh. ‘Well, that’ll be a first.’

Her cheeks flushed again. She was easily embarrassed. It might even be fun having her around for a few weeks. She might make having diabetes seem not so much like a drag.

He sat down and took a minute to retest himself, turning the monitor around to show her the result of eight. She nodded. ‘It’ll probably go up a little more as you digest your food. That’s fine.’ She stood up and walked over to the door where her suitcase was. ‘Where will I be sleeping?’

Yikes. He hadn’t even told her where her room was. Hospitality wasn’t his forte. His mother would be furious with him. He moved quickly, grabbing the handle of her case and gesturing for her to follow him. ‘Sorry, Samantha. You’ll be down here.’ He swung open the door to the room. It was at the front of the house and had views all the way down the valley. He heard her intake of breath as she looked out over the snowy landscape and bright orange lights from the streets a mile beneath them.

It gave him a little surge of pleasure that she was obviously impressed. He loved this place and wanted others to love it too. She’d walked over to the large glass doors that led out onto the balcony and pressed her hands against the glass. ‘This is gorgeous.’ She spun around. ‘And the room is huge.’

He pointed to one side of her. ‘Your bathroom is in here, and the walk-in closet behind you.’

He pulled open the door to the closet and she automatically walked inside. After a second she threw out her hands and spun around, laughing. ‘Mitchell, this closet is bigger than my bedroom back home!’

The sparkle was definitely back in her eyes. And he liked it. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ He pointed to the wooden sleigh-style bed with the giant mattress. ‘Sleep well, because we’ll be up early in the morning.’

She looked a little surprised. Did she think he liked to lie in till midday? ‘Okay. What time do you want to have breakfast?’

‘Six.’

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Six? Why so early?’

This was probably her first time here. He hadn’t even asked her if she’d been before. He winked at her. ‘Because six is the best time to ski.’

CHAPTER THREE

SHE’D JUST SPENT the best night in the most luxurious bed she’d ever slept in. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the thread count on these fabulous sheets but chances were she’d never experience them again. She was half-inclined to try and stuff them in her case as she was leaving.

But the best bit was the morning. She hadn’t closed the curtains last night and as the sun had gradually risen over the snow-covered Alps she’d had the most spectacul

ar view. The bedroom balcony looked directly out over the hillside to a blanket of perfect white snow. There was something so nice about lying in bed, all cosseted and cosy, admiring the breathtaking, snow-covered scenery.

No wonder Mitchell loved this place. He’d called it his sanctuary. And as the press were usually clamouring around him for a story she could see why the surrounding peace and quiet was so precious to him. She could quite easily fall in love with it herself.

Everything about this job should be perfect. Everything about this job could be perfect—if only she hadn’t spent most of last night tossing and turning, fretting about Mitchell’s parting comment.

Skiing.

The words sent a horrible shiver down her spine. He’d been joking, right? He had to be. No one had stipulated she had to be able to ski, because that would have been a deal-breaker for her. She couldn’t even begin to pretend to be ski-slope-worthy. More importantly, she didn’t want to be.

But what about the bright blue ski jacket and matching salopettes? Maybe she should have asked questions as soon as she’d seen them. Maybe she should have asked Dave for more information last night. But there hadn’t really been a chance last night.

In the early morning light she peered at her watch. Nearly six. She felt wide-awake now, but she’d probably hit a wall by lunchtime today and need to lie down for an hour. Not ideal when she was supposed to be supervising Mitchell.

Mitchell Brody. She honestly couldn’t believe it. She squeezed her eyes shut and resisted the temptation to pinch herself. Her skin was tingling just at the thought of the fact that somewhere in this sprawling house Mitchell Brody could be as partially dressed as she was. Hmm. Or maybe he was in the shower, water streaming over those lean abs...

She wanted to grab her phone and start texting all her friends, but she’d signed that non-disclosure agreement, plus the fact that as a nurse she couldn’t talk about her patients.

Chances were she’d finish this job and never be able to tell anyone a thing about it. But no one could stop her imagination...