About the Author

CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred books for Harlequin Mills & Boon. Carole has four sons, Matthew, Joshua, Timothy and Peter, and a bearded collie called Merlyn. She says, ‘I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live on the Isle of Man.’

Her Christmas Romeo

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘HOLD the lift! Shoot, shoot, sh-ooot! Aargh!’

Her mad dash to get in the staff lift before the doors closed failing miserably, Juliette came to a frustrated stop. Except that she didn’t. Stop, that was.

The three-inch stiletto heels on her knee-high boots, wet from the snow falling heavily outside, found no traction on the marble floor whatsoever, so that instead of stopping Juliette skidded unsteadily along the floor, an expression of complete panic on her face as she slid towards the closing metal doors of the lift, seeming to gain speed as she went.

In those brief few seconds—and she really couldn’t have said how many—everything was happening in slow motion, her whole life flashing before her. And what a complete and utter disaster that was …

But at the very last second the lift doors miraculously stopped closing and began to open again—slowly, painfully slowly, but enough that she didn’t hit solid metal after all, just fell into the lift instead.

Or at least she would have done, if one of the stiletto heels on her boots hadn’t caught and stuck in the gap between the lift shaft and the lift itself, holding her foot immobile but hurling her torso forward.

The whole thing might—only might—have been funny.

If she hadn’t had an audience to her comic turn.

But the man who seconds ago had stepped into the lift, and had obviously pressed the button to ascend, had unfortunately witnessed the whole incident.

And so it was, as Juliette hurtled into the lift headfirst, strong arms reached out to catch her. Which was very unfortunate for the man, because Juliette had instinctively thrust her umbrella out in front of her in an effort to regain her balance as she began to slide. Luckily for him, it had one of those stubby ends, rather than a pointy one, otherwise she would have skewered him with it.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked with concern, even as he steadied her into an upright position.

Did she look okay?

She had just hurtled across ten feet of marble at what had felt like the speed of sound—only to come to a bone-wrenching halt as the heel of her boot became stuck.

To make matters worse, she’d probably ruined her boots, and she’d only had them a week—a present to herself for having successfully completed a month of working at the job from hell. Because the lingerie department in this prestigious store, in the run-up to Christmas, certainly qualified as that! And, with ‘just five more shopping days till Christmas’, it only promised to get worse …

‘Let’s have a look at your boot,’ the man murmured as he released her and bent down to inspect the damage, giving Juliette an uninterrupted view of the top of his head.

She hadn’t been able to look at him before—at first because she’d been travelling too fast to focus on anything, and then because her embarrassment at having literally thrown herself into his arms had been too acute.

She didn’t recognise the top of that dark head, the hair thick and ebony, but nevertheless she knew the man had to work at Romeo’s, too. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been getting into the staff lift in the first place. Probably one of the office bods from the sixth floor; they didn’t socialise with the sales staff.

‘It—seems—to—be—stuck,’ the man muttered, his words interspersed with efforts to release the stiletto heel—and Juliette with it—from the hole it was trapped in.

Well, whoever he was, he certainly wasn’t any rocket scientist, Juliette thought disgustedly as she glared down at him. She could have told him that much herself.

This had not been a good day so far, and it certainly wasn’t getting any better.

And this man’s fingers, as they encircled the slenderness of her ankle, weren’t helping, either. His ringless hands were long and tapered, artistically so—not the sort of hands any red-blooded woman could ignore while she still had breath in her body.

He was probably ugly as sin, she decided self-mockingly. With her track record, how could it be any different? A university student who had lied about his age, knowing she didn’t go out with younger men. Another man who’d turned out to be married with three young children. And another one who was gay and had just been using her to hide the fact from his family.

The man looked up. ‘Perhaps if we were to remove the boot this might be a little easier …?’

No, he wasn’t ugly. Sinfully good-looking might be a better way to put it perhaps!

That public-school voice didn’t sound in the least foreign, but the man definitely had a Mediterranean look about him. His skin was dark and swarthy—only the deep blue of his eyes at variance with that olive colouring.

He raised dark brows as Juliette continued to stare down at him. ‘The boot …?’ he prompted.

Idiot, she chided herself ruefully. She had just done a good impression of an elephant trying to perform Swan Lake, and now she was caught up in the way he looked! While he probably thought she was a total klutz …

Which she undoubtedly was, Juliette accepted, feeling horribly self-conscious. Could today get any worse? Given the way her luck had going lately, the answer to that was yes, it certainly could!

‘Of course.’ She moved awkwardly to unzip the boot, stepping out of it to move into the lift—her hopalong performance making her look something like Quasimodo, she was sure.

Not that it particularly mattered how she appeared to this man, she decided now that she could get a better look at him. His suit was obviously expensively tailored, the black leather shoes hand-made and the white shirt definitely looked like silk.

One of the executives of Romeo’s, then, she acknowledged with disappointment. A man hardly likely to so much as notice that one of the temporary female Christmas staff was even alive! Despite the fact she had just launched herself at him, hitting him solidly in the chest with her umbrella. No doubt he was right now rueing the fact that he had arrived late this morning, because otherwise he wouldn’t have met her at all.

‘There you go.’ He held up her boot triumphantly, then grimaced at the badly grazed heel, at the same time stepping forward into the lift so that the doors were at last able to close.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Juliette kept her gaze averted from his as she bent to put the boot back on. ‘Thanks, anyway,’ she added awkwardly, choosing to look down at his expensively shod feet rather than at the man himself.

‘At least you weren’t hurt,’ he said encouragingly.

Her pride was in tatters, but, no, she wasn’t physically hurt! Maybe if she had been she could have cried off sick for these last few days before Christmas. She was absolutely—

‘Which floor?’

Juliette looked up at him blankly. Only the fact that one of those long, elegant fingers was held poised over the lift buttons made her realise that he was waiting for her to tell him which floor she worked on.

‘Four,’ she sighed. ‘Thank you,’ she added with a grimace as the doors closed and the lift began its ascent.

With Juliette’s stomach plummeting every foot of the way.

Not a great fan of lifts, or enclosed spaces, she usually chose to walk up the four floors to her department.

‘Come and work at Romeo’s,’ her friend Lisa had prompted her five weeks ago, when Juliette had left her last job.

Left? She had been thrown out through the door so fast her size fours had barely touched the ground! ‘It’ll be fun,’ Lisa had assured her brightly.

Fun? For the first month Juliette had been so bored by the lack of customers that she had been in danger of falling asleep half the time. But the last week had more than made up for that, as hordes of men—old, young, fat, thin, handsome, ugly—had crowded in from morning till night in search of that ‘special’ piece of underwear for the woman—or in some cases women—in their lives.

Why was it, she had wondered at least a dozen times, that it was only women who worked in the lingerie department? Especially at Christmas. Because some of the conversations she’d had over the last week had been enough to make her blush to the tips of her ears.

Were all men total morons, she had asked Lisa, when it came to buying underwear for the wives, girlfriends, sisters—and in a lot of cases, she was sure, the mistresses—in their lives?

‘Totally,’ Lisa had answered with a giggle. She was part of the permanent staff at the huge Romeo’s store, but in the perfume department.

Lucky her!

Maybe if Juliette’s father hadn’t died when she was eighteen, or if she’d had brothers, it might not have been so embarrassing for her, but as it was—

‘What’s happening?’ she gasped, her thoughts interrupted as the lift began to make a grating, groaning sound. Her eyes widened and she reached out instinctively to grasp the arm of the man at her side.

‘I have no idea, but—’ The man didn’t finish what he was saying as the lift came to an abrupt halt. The light flickered on and off, and mere seconds later they were plunged into complete darkness.

CHAPTER TWO

‘OH, NO! Oh, no!’ Juliette’s fingers tightened on the muscled arm beneath her hand even as she began to hyperventilate. ‘I can’t—We’re going to—”

‘Stay calm,’ the man’s disembodied voice advised firmly. ‘The emergency light will come on in a—There,’ he said with satisfaction as a dim red light flickered on over the top of the doors, throwing a dim, eerie red glow over the interior of the lift. Not in the least reassuring!

‘I hate lifts.’ Juliette heard herself begin to babble. ‘I only got in one this morning because I was so late. And I was only late because my alarm didn’t go off. And then I missed my bus. And I had to walk. And then you didn’t hold the lift for me. And I slid. And my heel got stuck. And my boot’s ruined. And—’

‘Are you becoming hysterical?’ the man asked warily, no more than a blurred outline in the dim red interior.

The lift had stopped somewhere between floors, and probably no one even knew they were in here. Because this was the staff lift and everyone else had arrived for work on time, instead of late, as they were. And the reason she hated lifts was because small enclosed spaces made her feel claustrophobic. And the lift had stopped somewhere between floors!

Juliette took a deep, steadying breath. ‘No. I’m … I’m fine.’ Perhaps if she said it out loud, it might feel true.

‘Good. Hysteria really isn’t going to improve our situation.’

She hadn’t been trying to ‘improve’ their situation; she really was terrified.

Although not so much now, she realised begrudgingly.

‘Isn’t there an emergency button or something we can press?’ She groped her way over to where the lift panel had been when she’d last been able to see it—only to find the man had moved in that direction, too, and her hand was making contact with some part of his anatomy rather than the lift buttons.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered awkwardly. Her cheeks blushed heatedly and she snatched her hand away as she realised exactly which part of his anatomy she had grabbed.

‘Perhaps if you just stood still?’ His voice was icy with impatience now.

Possibly because he didn’t like being groped by a complete stranger in a lift, Juliette acknowledged with a self-conscious wince, as he pressed one of the buttons. A bell could be heard ringing somewhere.

‘Er—I’m Juliette, by the way,’ she offered, trying to regain her cool and feeling very glad he couldn’t see her flaming cheeks.

‘Juliette?’ he repeated incredulously.

At least she thought he sounded incredulous. Although she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why. Except, of course …

‘Don’t bother. I’ve already heard all the “Juliette working at Romeo’s” jokes that I can stand,’ she said brusquely. ‘Believe me, with a name like mine, I wouldn’t have even considered working here if it weren’t for—’ She broke off abruptly.

This man was one of the executives, after all. And this job might not be what she really wanted to do, but it was better than being unemployed at Christmas.

‘If it weren’t for …?’ the man prompted interestedly.

‘Nothing,’ Juliette said with bright dismissiveness. ‘And you are …?’ It would be nice to put a name to the person she was marooned in this lift with.

‘Rob,’ he supplied economically. ‘Don’t you like working at Romeo’s?’

‘Not when I’m stuck in one of their lifts, no,’ she came back evasively.

But it paid the rent, and it also meant that she didn’t have to crawl home and admit to her stepmother and stepsister, not to mention her stepsister’s boyfriend—the fourth and most recent disaster in Juliette’s love-life, David having preferred her stepsister to her!—that her life in London wasn’t the success she had assured them it would be.

She shook her head just at the thought of having to do that. ‘Do you think that anyone heard—?’

‘Hello? Hello, is there anyone in there?’ a disembodied voice called out with concern.

‘Oh, thank God!’ Juliette felt weak at the knees with the relief of knowing that someone was aware they were in there. ‘Help!’ she cried desperately, even as she moved over to the doors. ‘Please help us!’ Her voice broke emotionally.

She couldn’t help it. She had always had a thing about lifts, and being stuck in the dark wasn’t one of her favourite things, either. Even if it was with a man who looked as delicious as Rob.

‘Who’s “us”?’ the voice enquired.

‘Does that really matter?’ Juliette came back impatiently. ‘The lift is stuck. And I want out!’ Her voice rose, and she slapped her hand against the closed metal doors as her earlier panic returned with a vengeance.

‘Don’t do that,’ Rob instructed firmly as he grasped both her hands and held them immobile. ‘There are two people in here,’ he answered the person on the intercom tersely. ‘Have you called an engineer?’

‘On his way,’ the voice reassured them. ‘Just try to stay calm, and we’ll have you out of there shortly.’

Juliette closed her eyes. Calm? He wanted them to stay calm? When they were stuck in a sealed metal box, suspended God knew how far from the ground floor, with only a couple of wires preventing them from dropping like a stone, to be crushed to death in the fall?

‘Okay. Thanks,’ Rob told the man, his grasp tightening on Juliette’s hands as she fought to be free.

‘It is not okay!’ she gasped breathlessly as she realised they were once again alone. ‘I hate lifts! I hate being in the dark! I wish I’d never come here to work in the first—Oh!’ Juliette was silenced as Rob muttered something under his breath, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

She was already disorientated enough without being wrapped in masterfully strong arms and kissed in a way that made her knees weak and her toes curl!

In fact, she had never been kissed like this in her life—crushed against the hard strength of his chest so that she could feel every rigid outline of his body, his mouth exploring hers in a way that made it impossible for her to stand without clinging to him. Or was that just the result of her undeniable fear about being stuck in this lift? Whatever. Her knees were shaking. If it weren’t for the fact that Rob was holding her so tightly she knew she really would have collapsed on the floor.

She hadn’t had time to reason any of this out when she found herself just as suddenly released, strong hands steadying her as she would have swayed. She was grateful for the gloom in the lift as she felt her cheeks heating furiously again.

She had just been very thoroughly kissed by a complete stranger! Well … not a complete stranger; she did know that his name was Rob, and, although she couldn’t remember seeing him before, he obviously worked at Romeo’s.

None of which changed the fact that he had just kissed her!

‘Opportunist!’ she hissed accusingly, stepping back until she felt the lift wall behind her.

He sighed. ‘My dear Juliette—’

‘I’m not your dear anything!’ she cut in indignantly. ‘Keep your hands to yourself!’ Trust her to get stuck in a lift with someone who wasn’t averse to taking advantage of the situation, no matter how gorgeous he was! ‘Touch me again at your peril,’ she warned, not caring if she sounded like the heroine from a 1930s movie.

White teeth flashed in the darkness. He obviously found her indignation amusing. ‘Or else what?’ he enquired mildly.

He was laughing at her! First he had kissed her, and now he had the effrontery to laugh at her!

Juliette’s anger rose to such a pitch she was actually shaking. ‘Oh, yes, that’s right—let’s laugh at the poor hysterical female! Just because I’m only temporary Christmas staff and you’re obviously part of management doesn’t mean that I’m not going to report your behaviour to your superior!’ As soon as she knew which superior to report him to …

He was leaning back against the opposite wall now, strong arms crossed in front of that broad chest. ‘Why am I “obviously part of management”?’

Her eyes widened. She had just told him off for laughing at her, threatened to report his over-familiar behaviour to—well, whoever his superior was, and all he could come back with was to ask how she had known he was one of Romeo’s executives!

She gave a scornful snort. ‘Probably because I haven’t ever seen any of the sales personnel wearing expensive Italian suits and handmade leather shoes!’

‘No?’ he drawled.

He was still laughing at her, damn it. She didn’t care who this man was. Even if he turned out to be the Managing Director himself, she intended—

‘You said you’re a temporary member of staff for the Christmas period?’ he asked with interest.

‘And as such expendable?’ she challenged him, her voice scathing. ‘Well, just try it, that’s all. I can assure you, I won’t go quietly.’ Getting the sack once had been quite enough, thank you very much.

‘That hasn’t been my experience so far in our acquaintance, so why should I think it will be any different once we’re out of this lift?’ he came back derisively.

‘You—I—’ Juliette glared at him. ‘It’s all right for you. You aren’t the one who’s got stuck in the lift with a pervert!’

There was a tense silence after her last accusation—long seconds when Juliette could only hold her breath at the enormity of what she had just said. She had really done it now. Not only had she threatened to report one of the management, she had just accused him of being a pervert, too.

What would he do?

She heard a noise. A low, husky-sounding noise that she didn’t instantly recognise. And then she did. Rob was no longer inwardly laughing at her, he was actually chuckling out loud now!

It wasn’t funny, damn it. She had ruined a pair of new boots, got stuck in a lift, been kissed very thoroughly and all this man could do was laugh at her.

‘I wish I had never even heard of Romeo’s!’ she ground out with frustration. If even one male customer looked her up and down today, and then decided that his girlfriend/wife/mistress was ‘probably about the same size as you up top’, she would not be responsible for the consequences!

‘Why did you come to work here?’ Rob asked curiously. ‘You don’t exactly sound as if you’re having a good time.’

Oh, she was grateful to have a job at all; although not excessive, the wage did at least pay most of her bills. She just couldn’t remember the last time she’d genuinely had a ‘good time’ …

‘In fact,’ he continued, ‘it doesn’t sound to me as if working in any type of store is what you enjoy doing.’

She didn’t not enjoy it. It was just … There was no way she could even begin to explain to this man how she had moved to London six months ago with such high hopes for her future, her job as a PA to a successful businessman having proved to be every bit as exciting as she had hoped it would. She had travelled with her boss to America, Germany and France, and it had been an amazing experience.

But all of that had ended five weeks ago. And just thinking about that was guaranteed to ensure she didn’t have a ‘good time’ doing anything.

‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ she responded heavily. ‘Although I may not have this job, either, after today,’ she added, with sudden depressing realisation. ‘I doubt Graham—Graham Taylor—my floor manager,’ she explained, just in case this man’s executive loftiness meant he wasn’t familiar with the floor management, ‘will be at all impressed with my reason for being late.’ Especially as she had already been late when she’d slid into the lift!

But actually Graham Taylor hadn’t seemed impressed by anything she’d done in the last few weeks. The way he had of pouncing on any little mistake she made gave her the distinct impression that he wished Personnel hadn’t employed her in the first place. This morning’s tardiness might just be the excuse he needed to get rid of her.

‘I’ll have a word with him—’

‘No! No, no—please don’t do that,’ Juliette pleaded awkwardly. Graham Taylor ran the fourth floor with the precision of a sergeant-major inspecting his troops. He certainly wouldn’t welcome the intervention of a member of upper management over how he treated his staff. The man was already sarcastic enough without that!

‘Please,’ she added cajolingly. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer—but please don’t.’

‘But—’ Rob broke off as the main light flickered on overhead, followed seconds later by the lift slowly beginning its ascent. ‘At last!’ he murmured with satisfaction.

Juliette was too bemused at the thought of being able to escape this metal prison after being stuck with a man who was anything but reassuring to care too much when the lift came to a rather lurching stop at the fourth floor.

The doors opened slowly, to reveal half a dozen or so concerned people, Graham Taylor amongst them, waiting anxiously outside.

Juliette didn’t hesitate, stepping straight out onto terra firma, her legs shaking with the relief of being rescued. Never again, she vowed. She didn’t care how late she was; she was never, ever—

‘Juliette?’ She turned at the sound of that now-familiar voice, so relieved at being out of the lift that she even smiled at Rob as he stepped out beside her. After all, it really wasn’t his fault that the lift had broken down. She would obviously have preferred it if he hadn’t kissed her, but such was her relief at that moment, she could actually have reached up and kissed him!

But before she could decide exactly what she should do or say now that they had been rescued, someone else spoke and rendered her—much as Rob might find it hard to believe!—completely speechless.

‘Mr Romeo!’ Graham Taylor’s voice was full of shocked recognition. ‘I had no idea! How awful that this should have happened to you, of all people.’

Juliette turned slowly, not even bothered that Graham hadn’t shown the slightest concern for her, and looked at the man who had been stuck in the lift with her.

Mr Romeo?

As in Roberto Romeo? Owner of the international chain of prestigious Romeo’s stores?

CHAPTER THREE

THIS couldn’t be happening to her! Not on top of all the other disasters that had befallen her recently.

‘I’m sure, Graham, that Juliette believes being stuck in a lift was an awful thing to happen to her, too,’ Rob answered the other man derisively, blue eyes dark with amusement at the look of stunned disbelief on Juliette’s face as she stared at him. ‘In fact,’ he added, stepping forward and taking a firm grasp of her arm, ‘I think it might be a good idea if we took Juliette upstairs and gave her a restorative glass of brandy.’

He was Roberto Romeo!

What had she said to him while they were in the lift? Besides calling him an opportunist and a pervert, of course …

Besides calling him those names? Weren’t they enough to merit instant dismissal?

God, yes. And he was suggesting giving her a brandy in order to soften the blow.

Her pale cheeks became flushed as she looked at him with accusing green eyes, her deep red hair loose about her shoulders. ‘I’m sure it’s very kind of you to suggest it, Mr Romeo—’ her tone implied the opposite ‘—but I—’

‘You have no objections to Juliette coming upstairs with me for a while, do you, Graham?’ Rob ignored her refusal and spoke to the fourth-floor manager.

Juliette looked at the older man from beneath lowered dark lashes, able to see, even if Roberto Romeo—Roberto Romeo, for goodness’ sake!—couldn’t, that Graham was far from pleased at the idea of one of his temporary Christmas staff being taken upstairs to that holy-of-holies the executive floor. In fact, he didn’t seem to like it at all as he shooed his curious staff back to their departments in order to give himself time to formulate an appropriate answer.

Well, he didn’t have to worry on her behalf; she wasn’t too thrilled at the suggestion herself. Roberto Romeo was giving every appearance of being a concerned employer, but she very much doubted he was the sort of man to make a scene in public, anyway. And the executive suite on the sixth floor, at only nine-thirty in the morning, would be empty of all but the two of them. An ideal time and place to tell her to seek other employment!

‘I would really rather just get straight back to work.’ She addressed her employer, just wanting to get away. The Christmas music playing over the tannoy system and the extensive Christmas decorations and lights were doing nothing to lighten her heavy mood. But if she could just manage to keep her head down for the rest of the day, perhaps—

Who was she kidding? Roberto Romeo wasn’t likely to forget their time in the lift, or their conversation, any more than she was—let alone allow her to continue working in his store.

‘That’s very commendable of you, Juliette,’ he answered dryly, amusement still darkening those incredible blue eyes. ‘But I think a visit to the shoe department may be in order first. Your boots are ruined,’ he added ruefully as Juliette looked totally bewildered by his suggestion. ‘And Romeo’s owes you a replacement pair.’

Juliette eyed him suspiciously. Was he playing with her? Lulling her into some false sense of security?

The blankness of his expression gave her no insight as to whether that was what he was doing or not. But that didn’t change the fact that Romeo’s wasn’t responsible for the damage to her boot; her own clumsiness was responsible for that.

‘Perhaps you could organise that for me with the shoe department, Graham?’ Roberto Romeo instructed, before Juliette could assure him that new boots would not be necessary.

Juliette gave a dismayed glance in the manager’s direction; Graham was used to giving orders, not receiving them, and, no matter how pleasantly the request might have been made, there had been a steely edge to Roberto Romeo’s voice that had let everyone know the suggestion had better be carried out, or Graham would answer to him for the omission.

‘Of course, Mr Romeo.’ The older man made a quick recovery and answered briskly, but the fact that he didn’t even glance in Juliette’s direction as he did so told her that she would answer to him later for putting him in such a position in the first place.

Great. She wasn’t Graham’s favourite person anyway; this could only make that situation worse.

It was okay for Roberto Romeo. From what she’d been able to gather, he usually turned up for a few days—it had to be her luck that he had turned up today—threw his weight around while he was there and then left again, leaving underlings like Juliette to the mercy of floor managers like Graham Taylor. Although, after this morning, that might no longer be any of her concern …

‘Good.’ Roberto Romeo nodded briskly before turning back to Juliette. ‘You’re sure you wouldn’t like a few minutes to recover from your ordeal?’

That depended on which ordeal he was referring to. Being stuck in the lift in the first place, or discovering that the man who had kissed her was Roberto Romeo himself?

Because she wasn’t likely to forget that kiss in a hurry. She had been completely overwhelmed at the time, responding in spite of herself, and she felt even more so now that she knew the man doing the kissing had been Roberto Romeo, the multimillionaire owner of the worldwide Romeo’s chain.

Of course, she did have an excuse for her ignorance in that she’d never seen him before—she would definitely have recognised him if she had, and perhaps been a bit more circumspect in her remarks. Perhaps. Because, actually, she really had been too freaked out most of the time to care who she’d found herself stuck in the lift with!

But Lisa, the old schoolfriend who was responsible for Juliette getting this job in the first place, had talked of her employer several times since Juliette had moved to London. Consequently, she knew that Mr Romeo was single, aged in his mid-thirties, of Italian descent—obviously, with a name like that!—and that he had started off with one store ten years ago in Milan, and now had one in every major capital city in the western world.

This was the first time, as far as Juliette was aware, that he had visited his London store in some months.

She couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t decided to pay a visit this time, either!

‘I’m fine,’ she assured him briskly. ‘Absolutely fine.’ She flicked the thickness of her hair back over her shoulders and looked up at him.

And instantly wished she hadn’t; those intense blue eyes were still laughing at her! Well, at least he found the situation funny—which was more than could be said for her.

‘If you’ll both excuse me?’ she added frostily, not even waiting for a reply before she turned on her damaged heel and strode off towards the staffroom, where she intended leaving her coat and umbrella before starting work.

And trying to regain some of her shaky self-confidence before she had to face the curiosity of the people she worked with. Not to mention the wrath of Graham Taylor …

‘So what’s he like?’ Lisa grinned with unabashed curiosity as she slid her lunch tray onto the table before sitting down opposite Juliette.

Juliette didn’t even try to pretend not to know which ‘he’ her friend was referring to; every member of staff who had spoken to her this morning had asked her the same question. But she doubted that she should tell Lisa, or any of those other people, the terms she had used to describe him this morning—terms like ‘opportunist’ and ‘pervert’, let alone the ‘arrogantly mocking’ she had added to that list.

‘Okay, I suppose,’ she answered dismissively, her hands cradling the cup of coffee she had opted for instead of lunch. ‘If you like the tall, dark and handsome type.’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Lisa chuckled. ‘Besides, I didn’t mean what does he look like. I know what he looks like. And don’t tell me that you don’t like the tall, dark and handsome type, because I know for a fact that you do!’

Of course she did, Juliette acknowledged ruefully; the two of them had been friends since they were eighteen years old. Lisa knew of all her disastrous romantic entanglements—and that, without exception, all of those men had been ‘tall, dark and handsome’!

She gave a shrug. ‘Being stuck in a lift together isn’t particularly conducive to getting to know what a person is like.’ Except she knew that Roberto Romeo stayed calm in a crisis. That he was self-confident. Had a wicked sense of humour. And his kisses were bone-melting …

Although she certainly had no intention of sharing that particular fact with Lisa. With anyone, in fact.

Besides, she had spent a very tense morning waiting for someone—probably Graham—to tell her that her employment at Romeo’s was at an end. In fact, she had been so preoccupied as she’d waited for that summons that she hadn’t even been bothered by some of the more personal remarks made by her male customers. It was also the reason she was only having coffee for her lunch; her normally healthy appetite had completely deserted her.

Lisa shook her head, still grinning. ‘It could only happen to you,’ she said affectionately.

Yes, it could only happen to her! Her adult life so far seemed to have been one disaster after another, so why should she have thought her time working at Romeo’s would be any different? She hadn’t; not really.

Although being stuck in a broken-down lift with the owner of the company was definitely a first!

‘It did happen to me.’ She grimaced, putting her head in her hands. ‘And I’m not sure Graham is going to forgive me for it.’ The man had been dogging her footsteps all morning, picking her up on every little thing she did wrong. And as for the replacement boots Roberto Romeo had requested for her—Graham hadn’t so much as mentioned the subject.

Lisa wrinkled her nose. ‘What is that man’s problem?’ She shook her head, well aware of the manager’s sour nature. ‘He can hardly blame you for a malfunctioning lift.’

Juliette had a feeling that the fourth-floor manager could—and did—do exactly what he pleased. And before the end of the day she was sure it would please him to show her the door!

‘He’ll find a way.’ She nodded, her mood lightening slightly in the face of Lisa’s good humour. ‘You and I both know that Graham is—’ She broke off as she became aware that Lisa was making faces at her across the table, her gaze moving pointedly to the left. What on earth—?

‘Graham is what, Juliette?’ an icy cold voice prompted from behind her.