Carole Mortimer - Her Christmas Romeo

Juliette was too bemused at the thought of being able to escape this metal prison after being stuck with a man who was anything but reassuring to care too much when the lift came to a rather lurching stop at the fourth floor.

The doors opened slowly, to reveal half a dozen or so concerned people, Graham Taylor amongst them, waiting anxiously outside.

Juliette didn’t hesitate, stepping straight out onto terra firma , her legs shaking with the relief of being rescued. Never again, she vowed. She didn’t care how late she was; she was never, ever —

‘Juliette?’ She turned at the sound of that now-familiar voice, so relieved at being out of the lift that she even smiled at Rob as he stepped out beside her. After all, it really wasn’t his fault that the lift had broken down. She would obviously have preferred it if he hadn’t kissed her, but such was her relief at that moment, she could actually have reached up and kissed him !

But before she could decide exactly what she should do or say now that they had been rescued, someone else spoke and rendered her—much as Rob might find it hard to believe!—completely speechless.

‘Mr Romeo!’ Graham Taylor’s voice was full of shocked recognition. ‘I had no idea! How awful that this should have happened to you, of all people.’

Juliette turned slowly, not even bothered that Graham hadn’t shown the slightest concern for her, and looked at the man who had been stuck in the lift with her.

Mr Romeo?

As in Roberto Romeo? Owner of the international chain of prestigious Romeo’s stores?

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