Cinderella's Christmas Secret - Sharon Kendrick Page 0,21

hadn’t been concentrating on anything lately. Not the news, nor office views, or even the fact that it was Christmas tomorrow. The only thing which was eating up her mind was the terrible showdown she’d had with Maximo a couple of days ago, when she had told him she was expecting his baby and he had reacted with...

Anger?

Disbelief?

Yes, both those things—and more besides. He had been icy with her, and distant. He had seemed to go out of his way to push her away and to view her with coldly dispassionate eyes. Nobody would ever have guessed they’d been lovers. Although, if you didn’t even get to share a whole night with a man—did that actually count as being a lover?

That had been bad enough but worse was to follow because when she’d arrived at work the next morning, Janette had asked could she make a cake for Maximo, to celebrate his completion on the purchase of the castle. It had been the last thing on earth Hollie had felt like doing, but what excuse could she possibly use for declining?

I’m terribly sorry, Janette, but I’m pregnant with Maximo’s baby and he’s being so unreasonable that I’d be tempted to tip a dollop of arsenic into the mix.

No, she had nodded her head submissively, even though her heart had wrenched with bitterness and shame. And as she had beaten the eggs and measured out the sugar, she had been unable to flush the image of Maximo’s angry face from her mind and to wonder where they went from here. She still had the business card he’d given her, just before he’d made his arrogant assertion that she should contact his lawyers.

He had cold-bloodedly stated that his money would enable her to employ a whole stable of staff, and had ended the conversation by announcing that he had no intention of being a father to his child. Well, that suited her just fine. Did he really imagine she, or her baby, wanted anything to do with a man who hadn’t bothered to hide his dismay when she’d told him her momentous news?

But surely the most important thing right now was to hang onto her job, at a time when she had never needed work more badly. Which was why she looked up at her boss and forced a weak smile. ‘What were you saying, Janette?’ she asked.

‘I was congratulating you on your cake, Hollie, which is absolutely lovely—though I have to say that it’s not quite up to your usual standard.’

Hollie nodded. Of course it wasn’t. It was unfortunate that a huge salt tear had plopped onto the finished product at the very last minute and Hollie’s subsequent attempts at repair work only seemed to have made it worse.

‘I know it’s not that good,’ she said.

‘It can’t be helped.’ Janette’s words were brisk. ‘I’m sure he won’t notice. It’s the thought that counts, and this will make him realise that our agency is always prepared to go the extra mile—just in case he’s thinking of buying any more local property in the area. Just make sure you deliver it today, can you, dear?’

‘D-deliver it?’ Hollie could see from Janette’s expression that she hadn’t quite managed to hide the horror in her voice. ‘You mean deliver the cake? To...to Maximo?’

‘To Señor Diaz,’ Janette corrected, frosting her a severe look. ‘Since when did you start using first names with clients, Hollie? Of course, I mean you! I thought you’d be delighted to comply after the way you monopolised him at the party. And who else is going to do it?’

‘But—’

‘Most people are very busy this close to Christmas, but at least you haven’t got any family. I’d do it myself except that I have a date through that new site—Flirty at Fifty. I mean, it sounds almost too good to be true, but, still...’ Janette’s steely-eyed look couldn’t quite disguise the unmistakable glint of hope which lurked in her heavily made-up eyes. She shrugged. ‘Mustn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. Just make sure the cake arrives at the castle this afternoon, will you? There are a few more papers he needs to sign at the same time. But you’d better get a move on.’ She shot a quick glance out of the agency’s big glass windows. ‘I don’t like the look of those clouds and they’re forecasting snow over the holidays. Dave can drop you at the bottom of the lane on the way to his four o’clock