All the Romance You Need This Christmas: 5-Book Festive Collection. Romy Sommer

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СКАЧАТЬ not going to be able to be. You know there’s nowhere else in the world I want to be on Christmas Day, but I’m afraid work is crazy and I can’t get the time off to even fly there and back and say hi at the airport! Maybe in the New Year…

      She stopped. Things weren’t going to be any better in January, and there was no point pretending that they would.

      Deleting the words, she clicked on to the Internet browser and brought up the travel website she used whenever Tyler needed to jet off somewhere at short notice. Typing ‘New York’ and ‘London’ into the starting point and destination fields, she held her breath while it did its magic.

      When the price range appeared on the screen, she winced and closed the tab. No way. Even if she was willing to give up food and shelter for the foreseeable future, there wasn’t enough money in her bank account to get her halfway across the ocean.

      Her hand drifted to the locked top drawer of her desk entirely of its own accord. It knew what she kept there, hoping that the lock and key would protect her from temptation. She kept it at work so she didn’t have it on hand in her weakest moments. Like late at night, watching QI repeats on her laptop with a large glass of wine, and feeling homesick.

      In that drawer, tucked away behind her stationery supplies, was the emergency credit card her father had insisted she get before she’d left for New York with Ewen.

      She’d never used it, but she knew the credit limit was high enough to get her a ticket home. She could use it, have a few days with friends and family, then return to New York with nobody any the wiser as to her current fall from perfection. It was an ideal solution – she’d keep up appearances and get to go home for Christmas.

      Except she’d be paying off the trip for the rest of her life. And what would she do if there really was an emergency and she couldn’t pull out the magic credit card to get her home?

      Sighing, Dory pulled her hand away from the drawer. Dad had a rule about credit cards, one he’d drummed into her repeatedly before she left for university, and on every visit thereafter.

       It’s not an emergency unless someone is bleeding, or there’s a real chance of decapitation.

      She could probably get away with a more general risk of death than decapitation but still, neither applied in this case. The only thing at risk was her pride. And perhaps her relationship with her parents.

      If she asked, if she confessed all, she knew Mum and Dad would try and find a way to pay for her to go home, but they didn’t have the money any more than she did. And it would be a one-way trip. If she left New York, broke and desperate, she wouldn’t be coming back. And she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

      The phone rang in Tyler’s office – never a good sign. The only person who had Tyler’s direct line, and so didn’t have to come through Dory, was his mother. She’d tricked it out of his previous assistant, which might have been why the job suddenly became available. And now Tyler couldn’t change the number or his mother would know he was avoiding her.

      Personally, Dory was just glad she didn’t have to take the calls.

      Within moments, a message from Tyler flashed up on her screen. Get photos. Now!

      Dory rolled her eyes. Classic avoidance tactic. She would go in there, needing to urgently speak to him about photos, of all things, and he could legitimately tell his mother he had to go because something had come up.

      Pulling up the search engine, she typed Tyler’s name into the search box. Usually that was all it took to get the most recent articles and photos up. She’d narrow it down by venue and event if there were too many. But before she could click search, the phone rang.

      ‘Tyler Alexander’s office,’ Dory said. ‘How can I help you?’

      ‘Is my brother there?’ The voice was unfamiliar, even after six months of working for Tyler, but she could make an easy educated guess at its owner. Lucas Alexander. The black sheep.

      ‘I’m sorry Mr Alexander, Tyler is on the phone right now.’ What did he want? She supposed this was the time of year when estranged brothers might suddenly get in touch, if only to discuss what on earth to buy their mother – the original woman-who-has-everything – for Christmas.

      ‘Let me guess – our mother.’ He sounded almost amused. His voice was deeper than Tyler’s, richer somehow.

      ‘I believe it might be.’ Dory clicked search then, while it was working, opened a new tab and typed the name ‘Lucas Alexander’ into the search bar. Let’s see exactly who I’m talking to. ‘Do you want me to ask Tyler to patch you in on a conference call with them?’

      ‘God, no!’ As Lucas spoke, a series of images began to load on Dory’s screen, all several years old, and all gorgeous. Lucas Alexander in a suit, on his wedding day, in shorts and a t-shirt on some beach somewhere… and one, the most recent shot of him, two years ago, in a dark coat and sunglasses. She clicked on that one.

      ‘In that case, can I take a message?’ she asked. The new page loaded with the headline ‘Alexander Drop Out?’ Dory scrolled down. CEO of the Alexander Corporation and heir to the family fortune, Lucas Alexander last night sensationally stepped down from the company, amid rumours of his divorce from socialite Cheryl Franklin.

      ‘If she’s on the phone, then she’s already seen the photos. I take it Tyler hasn’t yet?’ Lucas said.

      ‘Photos?’ Dory guiltily clicked back to the tab with the photos she was supposed to be looking for. ‘Oh my.’

      ‘Yeah. Not exactly the public image my dad usually likes us to promote for the Corporation.’ Lucas sighed. ‘It’s going to be a long Christmas break. Look, tell him I tried to warn him, yeah?’

      ‘I will,’ Dory promised, eyes still glued to the screen and the phone still in her hand long after Lucas had hung up.

      As the dial tone buzzed, she finally put it down. Get it together, Dory. She needed to figure out exactly what was going on here.

      Okay, so to start with, those weren’t photos from the latest charity gala. Dory was pretty sure he’d never have his hand that far up a woman’s dress in front of the country’s foremost do-gooders. She squinted at the picture on the screen. Who was she? No one Dory recognised, although the lighting and the woman’s position made it hard to pick out much beyond dark hair and long legs. Which didn’t narrow it down much. Tyler had what you might call A Type. Every woman she’d ever seen him out with had dark hair and long legs.

      Hell, she had dark hair and reasonably lengthy legs. It could be her, except she’d never get that up-close-and-personal with her boss. She liked a guy with a little more depth, thanks.

      A guy unlike her ex, as it turned out.

      Although, now she thought about it, while she’d seen Tyler with a variety of women on his arms over the last six months, she’d never seen him with the same one twice. And she’d never seen him look at one like he could barely stop himself touching her, cameras be damned.

      Whoever the woman in these photos was, she mattered to him. And he really wasn’t going to like the world seeing that. Let alone his mother…

      Dory clicked on the article that went with the photos, checking the date stamp and scanning СКАЧАТЬ