Cathy Williams

The Italian's Christmas Proposition / Christmas Baby For The Greek


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       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       EPILOGUE

       Christmas Baby for the Greek

       Back Cover Text

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       About the Publisher

       The Italian’s Christmas Proposition

      Cathy Williams

      An outrageous festive engagement…

      Tycoon Matteo Moretti has one goal this Christmas—to land the deal of his career. So, while rescuing enchanting stranger Rosie from a romantic scandal is honorable, when it puts his deal in jeopardy, Matteo sees only one solution. He’ll make this English beauty his fake fiancée!

      To avoid her family’s overbearing scrutiny, Rosie accepts Matteo’s temporary proposal. Yet an unpredictable red-hot connection throws her emotions into overdrive! Rosie knows she’s wearing Matteo’s diamond only for show, but soon their relationship starts to feel deliciously and dangerously real…

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘ROSIE! ARE YOU going to focus on what I’m telling you?’

      The cut-glass accent was a mix of despair, impatience and long-suffering love and Rosie guiltily dragged her eyes away from the far more stimulating sight below of people coming and going, skis on shoulders, imbued with the unique excitement of being on holiday in the run-up to Christmas.

      The luxury five-star resort—a jewel nestled in the heart of the Dolomitic Alps in the Veneto region of northern Italy—was the last word in the very best that money could buy and as good as a second home to Rosie, who had been coming here with her family for as long as she could remember. She could close her eyes and accurately visualise every beam of deep burnished wood, every swirl and curve of marble, the timeless cool greys of the exquisite indoor swimming pool area and the oversized chandeliers dominating the Michelin-starred restaurants.

      Right now, sitting in the galleried landing with a latte in front of her, Rosie was in prime position to admire the dramatic twenty-foot Christmas tree sweeping upwards by the reception desk, a vision of tasteful pink and ivory and tiny little electric candles. She could almost smell the pine needles.

      ‘Of course I am,’ she said with a suitable level of sincerity and enthusiasm. Across from her, her sister was on the verge of another of her laborious, long-suffering sighs. ‘You were asking me what I intend to do once the ski season is over. I don’t know, Diss. Right now, I’m just enjoying the ski instructing. It’s fun. I’m meeting some really lovely people and plus, let’s not forget, I’m looking after Mum and Dad’s chalet while I’m here. Making sure it…er…doesn’t get burgled…or anything…’

      ‘Because burglars are a dime a dozen here in Cortina?’

      ‘Who knows?’

      ‘You can’t keep flitting from place to place and from job to job for ever, Rosie. You’re going to be twenty-four on your next birthday and Mum and Dad…well, all of us—me, Emily, Mum, Dad…we’re all concerned that it’s getting to a point where you can’t even be bothered to try and…you know what I mean…’

      ‘Become an accountant? Get a mortgage? Find a decent man to look after me?’ Rosie flushed and looked away. She was particularly sensitive on the subject of men and, in her heart, she knew that this was what her parents were worried about—that she was never going to find Mr Right, as both her sisters had. That she was going to spend her life drifting from Mr Wrong to Mr Really Bad Idea to Mr Will Take Advantage. She had, as it happened, been down several of those roads in the past and, whilst she had put a cheerful face on each and every disappointment, each and every one had hurt.

      At this point in time, if she never had another relationship in her life again, she wouldn’t lose sleep over it. The last guy she had gone out with had been a fellow traveller in India. He had been out there buying cheap Asian artefacts to sell for a profit in a market somewhere near Aldershot. They had had fun before he had taken a shine to a tall brunette and disappeared with her, leaving only an apologetic note in his wake.

      The only saving grace in all these