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Дуглас Мишель

Snowbound Surprise for the Billionaire

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FLYNN GLANCED ACROSS at Addie, who’d started to droop. ‘Are you okay?’

She shook herself upright. ‘Yes, thank you.’

He raised an eyebrow.

She gritted her teeth and wriggled back in her seat. ‘When can we get off this tin can?’

They’d arrived at Munich airport and were waiting for a gate to become vacant. They’d been on the ground and waiting for fifteen minutes, but he silently agreed with her. It felt more like an hour. ‘Shortly, I expect, but I thought you were looking forward to flying?’

‘I’ve flown now. It’s ticked off my list,’ she ground out, and then she stilled and turned those extraordinary eyes to him. ‘Not that it hasn’t been interesting, but I just didn’t know that twenty-two hours could take so long.’

Addie’s problem was that she’d been so excited when they’d first boarded the plane in Sydney she hadn’t slept a wink on the nine-and-a-half-hour leg between there and Bangkok. She’d worn herself out so much—had become so overtired—that she’d been lucky to get two hours’ sleep over the next twelve hours.

He suspected she wasn’t used to the inactivity either. He thought back to the way they’d cantered across the fields at Lorna Lee’s and shook his head. Overtired and climbing walls. He understood completely.

A steward’s voice chimed through the sound system telling them they were taxiing to Gate Twenty-eight and to remain in their seats. Addie blew out a breath that made him laugh. Within twenty minutes, however, they’d cleared Customs and were waiting by the luggage carousel. Addie eased forward in one lithe movement and hefted a bag from the carousel as if it were a bale of hay.

He widened his stance and frowned at her. ‘If you’d pointed it out I’d have got it for you.’

She blinked at him. ‘Why would you do that when I’m more than capable?’

A laugh escaped him. ‘Because I’m the big strong man and you’re the dainty personal assistant.’

One side of her mouth hooked up and her eyes danced. ‘You didn’t tell me dainty was part of the job description.’ And then she moved forward, picked his suitcase off the carousel and set it at his feet.

‘Addie!’

‘Fetch and carry—that was part of the job description and that I can do.’

He folded his arms. ‘How’d you know it was my case? It’s standard black and nondescript.’

She pointed. ‘With a blue and green tartan ribbon tied to the handle.’

She’d noticed that? ‘Adelaide Ramsey, I have a feeling you’re going to be a handy person to have around.’

‘That’s the plan.’

Was it? Her earnestness puzzled him.

And then she jumped on the spot. ‘Can we go and see Munich now?’

All of her weariness had fled. Her back had straightened, her eyes had brightened and she glanced about with interest. He swallowed and led the way out of the airport to the taxi stand. ‘It’ll take about forty minutes by cab to reach Munich proper.’

‘It’s so cold!’

He turned to find Addie struggling to pull her coat from her hand luggage and haul it on, her breath misting on the air. ‘December in Munich,’ he pointed out. ‘It was always going to be cold.’

Teeth chattering, she nodded. ‘I’m counting on snow.’

She spent the entire trip into the city with her face pressed to the window. Flynn spent most of the trip watching her. She gobbled up everything—the trees, the houses, the shops, the people.

She flinched as they passed a truck. ‘It’s so wrong driving on this side of the road.’

They drove on the left in Australia. In Germany it was the opposite. It took a bit of getting used to. As he watched her an ache he couldn’t explain started up in his chest.

He rubbed a hand across it and forced his gaze away to stare out of his own window, but it didn’t stop him from catching the tiny sounds she made—little gasps and tiny sighs that sounded like purrs. Each and every one of them pressed that ache deeper into him.

Maybe that was why, when the taxi deposited them at the front of their hotel, he snapped at her when she didn’t follow after him at a trot, but stood glued to the footpath instead. He turned, rubbing a hand across his chest again. ‘What are you doing?’

She glanced around as if memorising the buildings, the street and its layout. ‘This is the very first time my feet have touched European ground.’

He opened his mouth to point out that technically that wasn’t true.

‘I want to fix it in my mind, relish the moment. I’ve dreamed of it for so long and I can hardly believe...’

He snapped his mouth shut again.

She suddenly stiffened, tossed him a glance, and before he knew what she was about she’d swung her hand luggage over her shoulder, seized both of their cases and was striding straight into the foyer of the hotel with them.

For pity’s sake! He took off after her to find her enquiring, in perfect German no less, for a booking in the name of Mather.

The concierge smiled and welcomed her and double-checked the details of the booking.

Flynn moved up beside her. ‘I didn’t think you spoke German?’ It came out like an accusation.

‘I don’t. I learned that phrase specifically.’

‘For goodness’ sake, why?’

‘I thought it might come in handy, and to be polite, but...’ She swallowed and turned back to the concierge and glanced at his name badge. ‘Entschuldigen Sie—’ I’m sorry ‘—Bruno, but I have no idea what you just said to me.’

The concierge beamed back at her. ‘No matter at all, madam. Your accent was so perfect I thought you a native.’

‘Now you’re flattering me.’ She laughed, delighted colour high on her cheeks. ‘Danke.’ Thank you.

‘Bitte.’ You’re welcome.

And from her smile Flynn could tell she knew what that meant. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes.

‘Your hotel is sublime, beautiful.’ She gestured around. ‘And I can’t tell you how excited I am to be here.’

The man beamed at her, completely charmed and this time Flynn did roll his eyes. ‘And we’re delighted to have you stay with us, madam.’

Given the prices they were charging, of course they were delighted.

Eventually Flynn managed to get their room keys and he pushed Addie in the direction of the elevator that silently whooshed them up four flights to the top floor.

Flynn stopped partway down the corridor. ‘This should be your room.’

Her jaw dropped when she entered. ‘It’s huge!’ She raced to the window. ‘Oh, this is heaven.’ She pointed. ‘What’s that?’

He moved to join her. ‘That’s called the Isartor. Munich was once a gated medieval city. Tor means gate. Isar is the name of the nearby river.’

She stared at him. ‘So that’s the gate to the river Isar. It sounds like something from a Grimm’s fairy tale.’

She turned back to fully take in her room. ‘Oh, Flynn, I don’t need something this big.’

‘I have the main suite next door and I wanted you nearby.’

She glanced around more slowly this time and her face fell. ‘What?’ he barked.

‘I thought there might be an adjoining door.’ Colour flared suddenly in her face. ‘I mean, it’s not that I want one. It’s just they have them in the movies and...’ She broke off, grimacing.

He had to laugh and it eased the burn in his chest. ‘No adjoining doors, but feel free to come across and check out the suite.’

Flynn had never thought too much about hotel rooms before beyond space and comfort. And most of the time he didn’t waste much thought on the second of those. Space mattered to him though. It probably had something to do with the wide open spaces of the cattle country he was used to. He didn’t like feeling hemmed in. It was strange, then, that he spent so much of his time in the cities of Sydney and Brisbane.

‘Oh, my! You have a walk-in closet. And a second bedroom!’ Addie came hurtling back into the living area. ‘You have all this—’ she spread her arms wide to encompass the lounge area, dining table and kitchenette ‘—plus all that.’ She pointed back the way she’d come from the bedrooms and bathroom.

The suite was generous.

She bounced on the sofa. She sat at the table. ‘And it’s all lovely light wood and blue and grey accents. It’s beautiful.’

He glanced around. She was right. It was.

She poked about the minibar and straightened with a frown. ‘There’s no price list.’

‘The minibar is included in the overall price. It’s the same for your room.’ When he travelled he wanted the best.

‘No-o-o.’ Her jaw dropped. ‘You mean, I can drink and eat whatever I want from it and it won’t cost you a penny more?’

Heck! Had he ever been that young? ‘Ja.’

‘Fantastisch!’

She sobered. ‘Thank you for my beautiful room.’

He rolled his shoulders. He hadn’t been thinking of her comfort or enjoyment, but his own convenience. ‘It’s nothing. Don’t think about it.’

‘Thank you for bringing me to Munich.’

‘It’s not a free ride, Adelaide.’

‘I know, and just you wait. I’m going to be the best PA you’ve ever had.’

Her sincerity pricked him. ‘Addie, go and unpack your bags.’

Without so much as a murmur, she turned and left. Flynn collapsed onto the sofa, shaking his head. He eased back a bit further. Addie was right. The sofa was comfortable. He’d be able to rest here and—

Out of the blue it hit him then that not once between the airport and now had he given thought to the reason he was in Munich. He straightened. He pushed to his feet. Twenty years in the planning all ousted because of Addie’s excitement? Jet lag. He grabbed his suitcase and strode into the master bedroom, started flinging clothes into the closet. Either that or he was going soft in the head.

He stowed the suitcase and raked both hands back through his hair. The important thing was that he was here now and that finally—after twenty years, twenty-two, to be precise—he had the means and opportunity to bring down the man who had destroyed his family. He would crush George Mueller the way George had laid waste to his father. And he intended to relish every moment of that with the same gusto Addie had so far shown for Munich.

With a grim smile, he made for the shower.

* * *

A knock sounded on the door and Flynn glanced up from his laptop. Housekeeping?

Or Addie?

He forced himself to his feet to open it. Addie stood on the other side, but it was a version of her he’d never seen before. What on earth? He blinked.

‘May I come in?’

He moved aside to let her enter, his voice trapped somewhere between chest and throat. She sauntered in with a pot of coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other. She wore a black business suit.

Hell’s bells! Addie had legs that went on forever.

She set the briefcase on the table and the coffee pot on a trivet on the bench, before turning. He dragged his gaze from her legs. ‘Where did you get that?’ He pointed so she knew he meant the coffee, not the legs.

‘The breakfast room.’

She collected two mugs and leant down to grab the milk from the bar fridge. Her skirt was a perfectly respectable length, but... He rubbed the nape of his neck. Who’d have known that beneath her jeans she’d have legs like that?

He shook himself. ‘What are you doing?’ The words practically bellowed from him. ‘And why are you wearing that?’

Her face fell and he could’ve kicked himself. ‘Sorry,’ he ground out. ‘Jet lag. That didn’t come out right.’

She swallowed. ‘Flynn, I know this trip isn’t a free ride. So—’ she gestured down at herself ‘—like a good dainty personal assistant, I donned my work clothes, made sure to get the boss coffee and now I’m here to put in a day’s work.’

‘I don’t expect you to do any work today.’

She handed him a coffee. Strong and black. She must’ve remembered that from their meetings at Lorna Lee’s. ‘Why not?’

He took a sip. It wasn’t as hot as he’d have liked, but he kept his trap shut on that head. She’d gone to the trouble of fetching it for him. Besides, it was excellent—brewed to perfection.

‘I’m here to work,’ she reminded him.

‘Not on the day we fly in. You’re allowed some time to settle in.’

‘Oh.’ She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t realise. You didn’t say.’

‘Where did you get the suit?’ Had she bought it especially for the trip? He hadn’t meant to put her out of pocket.

‘I have a wardrobe full of suits. When I finished school I started an office administration course. I had plans to—’

She broke off and he realised that whatever plans she’d made, they hadn’t come to fruition.

‘But my mother became sick and I came home to help out and, well, the suits haven’t really seen the light of day since.’

Because she’d been stuck on the farm. Trapped on the farm. He recalled the way she’d pressed her face against the window of the taxi, the look on her face as she’d stared around the city street below. Why was she in his room ready to work when she should be out there exploring the streets of Munich?

‘Flynn, I don’t even know what it is we’re doing in Munich.’

That decided him. ‘Go change into your warmer clothes—jeans, a jumper and a coat—and I’ll show you why we’re here.’

Her eyes lit up. ‘And a scarf, gloves and boots. I swear I’ve never known cold like this.’

‘Wear two pairs of socks,’ he called after her. ‘I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes.’

* * *

Addie made it down to the foyer in eight minutes to find Flynn already there. She waved to Bruno, who waved back.

‘Good to know you can move when necessary,’ Flynn said, gesturing her towards the door.

Addie could hardly believe she was in Munich! She practically danced out of the door.

She halted outside. Which way did he want to go? Where did he mean to take her? Oh, goodness, it was cold! She tightened her scarf about her throat and stamped her feet up and down. ‘It was thirty-three degrees Celsius when we left Sydney. The predicted top for Munich today is four!’

‘In a couple of days you won’t even notice.’

She turned to stare at him.

‘Okay, you’ll notice, but it won’t hurt so much.’

‘I’ll accept that. So, what are you going to show me?’

‘We’re going to get our bearings first.’

Excellent plan. She pulled the complimentary map she’d found in her room from her coat pocket at the exact moment he pulled the same map from his.

He stared at her map, then at her and shook his head.

‘What? I didn’t want to get lost.’ In rural Australia getting lost could get you killed.

‘There’s nothing dainty about you, is there, Addie?’

‘Not if you’re using dainty as a synonym for helpless,’ she agreed warily. If it was important to him she supposed she could try and cultivate it, though.

He shoved his map back into his pocket. ‘While we’re on the subject, for the record I do not want you carrying my luggage.’

‘Okay. Noted.’ Man, who knew that negotiating the waters of PA and boss politics could be so tricky? ‘Okay, while we’re on the subject. When we’re in business meetings and stuff, do you want me to call you Mr Mather and sir?’

His lip curled. ‘Sir?’

Okay, she didn’t need a business degree to work out his thoughts on that. ‘So we’re Herr Mather and his super-efficient—’ and dainty if she could manage it ‘—PA, Addie.’

‘Herr Mather and his assistant, Adelaide,’ he corrected.

A little thrill shot up her spine. Adelaide sounded so grown up. It was a proper name for a PA. ‘Right.’

Brrr...if they didn’t move soon, though, she’d freeze to the footpath. She glanced at the map in her hand and then held it out to him. She could read a map as well as the next person, but she was well aware that the male of the species took particular pride in his navigational skills.

‘You haven’t been to Munich before?’ she asked as he unfolded the map.

‘No. What made you think I had?’

He studied the map and a lock of chestnut hair fell onto his forehead. The very tips were a couple of shades lighter and they, along with his tan, seemed at odds with all of this frosty cold. It made him seem suddenly exotic.

Deliciously exotic.

Delicious? She frowned. Well, she knew he was perfectly perfect—she’d known that the moment he’d stepped onto Lorna Lee’s dressed in a perfectly perfect suit. He was also decidedly male. That had become evident the moment she’d clapped eyes on him in jeans and boots. She just hadn’t felt all of that down in her gut until this very moment. She swallowed. Now she felt it all the way to her bones.

Flynn Mather was a perfect specimen of perfectly perfect maleness. In fact, if he’d been a stud bull she’d have moved heaven and earth to have him on the books at Lorna Lee’s and—

‘Addie?’

She snapped out of it. She swallowed. ‘Sorry, brain fog, jet lag, the cold, I don’t know.’ What had they been talking about? She couldn’t remember. She stared at the map and pointed. ‘So where are we? What do I need to know?’

‘Medieval walled city, remember?’

‘Yep.’ Nothing wrong with her memory.

‘This circle here encloses the heart of the city. Most of our negotiations will take place within this area.’

She followed his finger as it went around, outlining where he meant. A tanned finger. A strong, tanned, masculine finger.

She had a feeling that perfectly perfect PAs didn’t notice their boss’s fingers.

‘Our hotel is here.’ His finger tapped the big blue star emblazoned with the hotel’s name. ‘Marienplatz—the town square—is the heart of it all and it’s here...which is only a couple of blocks away.’

She jolted away from him in excitement. ‘Oh, let’s start there! I’ve read so much—’

She choked her words back. Perfectly perfect PAs waited to find out what was required of them. They didn’t take the bit between their teeth and charge off.

‘I mean only if it’s convenient, of course, and part of your plan.’

He stared down at her and, while Munich was cold, the sky was blue but not as blue as Flynn’s eyes. He grinned, and warmth—as if an oven door had been opened—encompassed her. ‘You’re trying really hard, aren’t you?’

She couldn’t deny it. ‘Very.’

‘I’d be happier if you’d just relax a bit.’

She bit her lip. ‘I just want to do a good job and not let you down.’

‘Wrong answer.’

She stared back at him. ‘What was I supposed to say?’

‘Noted,’ he drawled and she couldn’t help but laugh.

She could do relaxed...perfectly. ‘To be honest, Flynn, I don’t care which way we go, but can we move, please, before my feet freeze solid?’

He took her arm, his chuckle a frosty breath on the air. ‘Right this way.’

He turned them towards Marienplatz. She stared at the shop fronts they passed, the people and the clothes they wore, the cars...but when she glanced up her feet slid to a halt.

‘What now?’ Flynn asked with exaggerated patience.

She pointed. ‘Spires,’ she whispered. Oh, Robbie! ‘And green domes.’

‘Pretty,’ he agreed.

There was nothing like this in Australia. Nothing. A lump lodged in her throat. She’d never seen anything more beautiful.

‘If you like those you should go to Paris. They have green domes enough to gladden every soul.’

No. She forced her legs forward again. She was exactly where she ought to be.

When they entered the town square, full of bustle and people on this bright chilly morning, and made their way to its centre even Flynn was quiet for a moment. ‘That’s really something,’ he finally said.

All Addie could do was nod. Gothic architecture, sweeping spires, gargoyles and a glockenspiel were all arrayed in front of her. ‘What more could one want from a town hall?’ she breathed.

On cue, the glockenspiel rang out a series of notes. She and Flynn shared a glance and then folded their arms and stood shoulder to shoulder to watch. Addie had to keep closing her mouth as the jesters jested, the couples danced and the knights duelled. She watched as if in a dream, Flynn’s shoulder solid against hers reminding her that this was all for real. She soaked it in, marvelled at it, her heart expanding with gratitude. The show lasted for fifteen minutes, and, despite the cold and the sore neck from craning upwards, she could’ve watched for another fifteen.

She spun to Flynn. ‘Can you imagine how amazed the first people who ever saw that must’ve been? It would have been the height of technology at the time and—’

She suddenly realised she was holding his arm and, in her enthusiasm, was squeezing it. With a grimace and a belated pat of apology, she let it go. ‘Sorry, got carried away.’ It certainly wasn’t dainty to pull your boss’s arm out of its socket.

His lips twitched.

No, no—she didn’t want to amuse him. She wanted to impress him.

She gestured back to the glockenspiel. ‘And they call that the New Town Hall. I mean, it’s gothic and—’

He turned her ninety degrees to face back the way they’d come. ‘Oh!’ A breath escaped her. ‘And that would be the Old Town Hall and as it’s medieval then I guess that makes sense.’

She turned a slow circle trying to take it all in.

‘What do you think?’

He sounded interested in her impression. She wondered if he was merely humouring her. ‘I can’t believe how beautiful it all is.’ She turned back to the New Town Hall and her stomach plummeted. An ache started up in her chest. ‘Oh,’ she murmured. ‘I forgot.’

‘Forgot what?’

‘That it’s Christmas.’

‘Addie, there’re decorations everywhere, not to mention a huge Christmas tree right there. How could you forget?’

She’d been too busy taking in the breathtaking architecture and the strangeness of it all. She lifted a shoulder. ‘It’s been such a rush this last week.’ What with signing the contract to sell Lorna Lee’s and preparing for the trip, Christmas had been the last thing on her mind.

Christmas. Her first ever Christmas away from Lorna Lee’s. Her first Christmas without her father.

The ache stretched through her chest. If her father were still alive they’d have decorated their awful plastic tree—loaded it with tinsel and coloured balls and tiny aluminium bells and topped it with a gaudy angel. She’d be organising a ham and a turkey roll and—

A touch on her arm brought her back with a start. ‘Where did you just go?’

His eyes were warm and soft and they eased the ache inside her. She remembered the way his eyes had blazed when she’d asked him if he knew what it was like to want something so terribly badly.

Yes, he’d known. She suspected he’d understand this too. ‘The ghost of Christmases past,’ she murmured. ‘It’s the first Christmas without my father.’

His face gentled. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’ve been doing my best not to think about it.’ She stared across at the giant decorated tree that stood out at the front of the New Town Hall. ‘I’m glad I’m spending Christmas here this year rather than on the farm.’

He nodded.

She turned back to him. ‘Are your parents still alive?’

‘My father isn’t.’

Her lungs cramped at the desolation that momentarily stretched through his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. ‘It was a long time ago.’

‘Your mother?’

‘My mother and I are estranged.’

She grimaced and shoved her hands into her pockets too. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ She shouldn’t have pressed him.

He shrugged as if it didn’t make an ounce of difference to him, but she didn’t believe that for a moment. ‘She’s a difficult woman.’

She pushed her shoulders back. ‘Then we’ll just have to have our own orphans’ Christmas in Munich.’

He opened his mouth. She waited but he closed it again. She cleared her throat, grimaced and scratched a hand through her hair. ‘I, the thing is, I’ve just realised in the rush of it all that I haven’t bought presents for the people back home.’

He stared down at her for three beats and then he laughed as if she’d shaken something loose from him. ‘Addie, that’s not going to be a problem. Haven’t you heard about the Munich Christmas markets?’

‘Markets?’ She wanted to jump up and down. ‘Really?’

‘Some are held in this very square. You’ll find presents for everyone.’

‘There’ll be time for that?’ She could send the gifts express post to make sure they arrived on time. Hang the expense.

‘Plenty of time.’

She folded her arms and surveyed him. ‘When are you going to tell me what your business in Munich is?’

‘Come right this way.’ He took her arm and set off past the New Town Hall. They passed what looked like the main shopping area. She slanted a glance up at him. ‘We’ll still be in Munich for the post-Christmas sales, right?’

‘Never stand in the way of a woman and the sales. Don’t worry; you’ll have time to shop.’

Cool.

She shook herself. That was all well and good, but when were they in fact going to do any work?

Eventually he stopped, let go of her arm and pointed. She peered at the building he gestured to. It took her a moment, but... ‘Ooh, a beer hall! Can we...? I mean, is it too early...?’

‘It’s nearly midday. C’mon.’ He ushered her inside.

The interior was enormous and filled with wooden tables and benches. He led her to a table by the wall, where they had a perfect view of the rest of the room. He studied the menu and ordered them both beers in perfect German.

She stared at her glass when it was set down in front of her—her very tall glass. ‘Uh, Flynn, you ordered me half a litre of beer?’

‘We could’ve ordered it by the litre if you’d prefer.’

Her jaw dropped as a barmaid walked past with three litre tankards in one hand and two in the other.

‘Bottoms up!’

He sounded younger than she’d ever heard him. She raised her glass. ‘Cheers.’

She took a sip and closed her eyes in bliss. ‘Nectar from the gods. Now tell me what we’re drinking to?’

‘This—’ he gestured around ‘—is what we’re doing here.’

It took a moment. When she realised what he meant she set her glass down and leaned towards him. ‘You’re buying the beer hall?’ A grin threatened to split her face in two. That had to be every Australian boy’s dream.

How perfectly perfect!

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