Millionaire Under The Mistletoe: The Playboy's Mistress / Christmas in the Billionaire's Bed / The Boss's Mistletoe Manoeuvres. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

‘That was the theory—it didn’t always work,’ he admitted wryly. ‘After Jo’s death the Press pack were their usual rabid selves, and my lack of co-operation only increased their appetite. Of course when I didn’t oblige them by drowning my sorrows in a gin bottle they were even less happy. Chequebook journalism being what it is, any ex of mine can look forward to making a tidy profit—several have.’

      Darcy’s face froze. ‘Is that meant to be an incentive?’ she breathed wrathfully.

      ‘Hell, no, I didn’t mean you!’ he exclaimed—she seemed to be remarkably lacking in avarice.

      Darcy’s hands went to her hips as she tossed back her hair. ‘You’d better not.’

      ‘I’ve made you mad, haven’t I?’

      ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ she snapped sarcastically.

      ‘Let me take you to dinner; we can talk more.’

      Darcy didn’t want to talk more—she’d already had more talk than she could cope with. ‘I c-can’t go to dinner with you,’ she stuttered.

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Well, I’ve got a lot to do.’

      ‘You have to eat.’

      ‘And it’s Clare’s first night home.’

      He looked palpably unimpressed by her clinching argument. ‘The table’s booked for eight-thirty.’ He consulted his watch. ‘That gives you twenty minutes to get ready.’

      ‘Do people always do what you say?’