‘Never.’
‘Then you’re missing out.’ She pushed two pebbles into the snow above the carrot and then sat back to admire her handiwork.
Rio fought the sudden desire to roll her in the snow and warm her up in the most basic way known to man. ‘You need to move the pebble on the left up a bit—they’re not even. He’s squinting.’
Flakes of snow settled on her hair as she shifted the pebble. ‘What are you doing out here, Rio? Shouldn’t you be on the phone, brokering some deal or sorting out a crisis?’
‘I left the phones in the Penthouse.’
She managed a smile. ‘All three of them? Won’t the business world crumble?’
Rio suddenly discovered that he couldn’t care less. ‘Come back inside with me.’
The smile vanished. ‘I’m happy here.’
‘You’re soaked through and freezing.’
‘I love the snow.’ Lifting her face into the falling flakes, she closed her eyes. ‘If I keep my eyes shut, I’m a child again.’
Rio felt the tension flash through his body. ‘And that’s a good thing?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Clear aquamarine eyes looked into his. ‘One of my favourite childhood memories is going to the forest with my grandfather to choose a tree. I used to just stand there, breathing in the smell of pine. Have you ever stood in a forest and just smelt the air? It’s the most perfect smell—sharp and pungent—it gets into your nose and then your brain and suddenly you just feel Christmas all the way through your body. Smells do that to me. Are you the same?’
He had no idea how to answer that question. ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘I’m not the same.’
The happiness in her eyes dimmed. ‘I don’t suppose you stand still long enough to notice smells. You’re always on the go, pushing another deal through. You don’t even take Christmas off.’
Rio looked at her, torn between wanting to know more and wanting to change the subject. ‘So what did you do when you and your grandfather had chosen the tree?’
‘We took it home and decorated it. That was the best part. We couldn’t afford fancy decorations so Grandma and I made stars out of flour and water, baked them in the oven and painted them silver.’
Rio remembered the way she’d stared at the elaborate decorations on the Christmas tree at the ball. He found it all too easy to imagine her sitting at the kitchen table, a huge smile on her face, her hair like a burning bush. ‘How long have you lived with your grandparents?’
She reached for a twig and snapped it in half. ‘Since I was four years old. My parents had gone away to celebrate their wedding anniversary and I was staying with my grandparents. I remember being really excited about sleeping in their spare bedroom. It’s a tiny attic room with a sloping roof and views across the lake and the forest. It felt like the biggest adventure of my life and I couldn’t wait to tell my parents every last detail.’ She paused and there was a sudden hitch in her breathing. ‘And then my grandfather came into my room one morning and told me that they wouldn’t be coming to get me. Their car hit black ice. They didn’t stand a chance.’
Rio stood still, feeling hopelessly inadequate. He watched in silence as the snow fluttered onto her shoulders. Her vibrant hair was the only warmth and colour in the place. Everything was cold, including him. Her revelation deserved a response, but he had no idea what that response should be. He wasn’t used to emotional confessions. People didn’t confide in him. They discussed stocks and bonds, mergers and acquisitions—not feelings.
He didn’t do feelings.
Wondering what had happened to all the smooth words that were always at his disposal, Rio stumbled awkwardly through foreign territory. ‘So you stayed with them?’
‘My grandfather had just retired. They were looking forward to enjoying some time together. They’d even booked a world cruise—’ her voice was soft ‘—they cancelled it. They gave me a home.’ She breathed deeply. ‘They became my parents.’
And the love she felt for her grandfather was a living, palpable thing. He saw it in her eyes and in her smile. In everything she did.
‘You’re lucky.’ The moment he said the words, he braced himself for a sharp comeback. She was going to tell him that he was the lucky one. She was going to remind him that he was a billionaire with five houses and a private jet.
But she didn’t say any of those things. Instead, she wiped snow from her cheeks with her gloved hand and nodded. ‘I know I’m lucky. That’s why I was so upset and worried about that photograph of me naked. After everything they did for me—all the sacrifices they made so that I could have a warm, loving home—I couldn’t bear that my grandfather would think I’d let him down like that. All I’ve ever wanted is to make them proud of me.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m still mad with you for not putting me out of my misery sooner, but I’m also just so relieved that Antonio intercepted the guy so quickly. It could have been worse.’
Her pragmatic approach intensified his feelings of guilt and Rio swore softly under his breath. ‘I was wrong to do what I did.’
‘No, you weren’t. You did what you needed to do for your little girl.’ She rocked back on her heels and studied her snowman. ‘You were prepared to do anything to protect her. I like that. It’s good. It’s what families should do. They should stick together, no matter what. Family should be the one dependable thing in a person’s life.’
‘Why is your grandfather so desperate for you to be married?’
‘I’ve told you—he’s old-fashioned.’ Picking up the other half of the twig, she pushed it into the other side of the snowman. ‘He believes that as long as you have family, everything can be all right with the world.’
‘All right, now I feel seriously guilty,’ Rio said gruffly and she smiled up at him, a sparkling smile that warmed the freezing air because it was delivered with such bravery.