Free One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents by Susan Stephens

Princess Anastasia. What more could possibly go wrong?
    Carrie knew the answer the moment she saw the smoke. Her hotel was on fire. Forgetting how sore her feet were, she began to run. Pushing through the small crowd, she captured the attention of an elderly man staring up at the firefighters. ‘Is everyone safe?’
    â€˜Everyone’s safe now,’ he reassured her. ‘The fire was confined to the kitchen, but it knocked out the electricity and so all the guests have been evacuated. They’re just checking the upstairs rooms now as a precaution.’
    â€˜Thank you.’ Carrie’s first impulse had been to offer help, and now she knew there was no smoke or excessive heat to endanger her baby there was nothing to stop her.
    â€˜There’s a lot of mess inside,’ the man called after her. ‘One of the firemen told me the kitchen won’t be fit for use for some time…’
    All the more reason for her to hurry, Carrie thought. She could only imagine how the owners of the hotel must feel. It would be hard enough trying to make a profit out of such a small concern without a disaster like this making things harder.
    The first thing she saw was her small suitcase standing on its own in the hallway. Of course, all the other guests had gone, though there were plenty of people hurrying about trying to salvage what they could.
    She followed the unpleasant stench of smothered fire to the rear of the building where she found more members of staff busily cleaning up, and there was an older woman on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor.
    â€˜Please, let me do that,’ Carrie insisted. ‘You’ve got enough to worry about.’ Her heart went out to the older woman, whom she guessed had probably lost her livelihood that day. Her sleeves were rolled up, and her hands and arms were covered to the elbows in grime. ‘If there’s anything I can do for you…’
    As the woman glanced up and smiled a weary smile Carrie knew kind words weren’t enough, and with her permission she took the bucket of filthy water and emptied it in the yard. Swilling the bucket, she filled it with clean water and returned inside.
    â€˜Thank you,’ the woman said, struggling to her feet.
    â€˜Please don’t thank me. I’m happy to help…’ Searching under the sink, Carrie found some detergent, but by the time she turned around the woman had gone. There was a lot to do, she reasoned.
    Kneeling on a towel, she concentrated on finishing the job. The hotel fell silent as she worked, and the more she thought about it, the more certain Carrie became that the woman she had taken over from must own the hotel. She had worn the wounded expression of someone who had just seen her dream go up in smoke, which was probably why she felt a certain kinship with her, Carrie thought wryly, redoubling her efforts.
    Straightening up at last, she clutched her back, knowing the effort had been worthwhile. The kitchen floor was sparkling again and it smelt fresh and clean.
    â€˜What on earth are you doing here?’
    She nearly jumped out of her skin ‘Nico?’ Nico, angry? Nico, furious? But why? What was he doing here?
    â€˜I was assured that all the guests had been evacuated.’
    â€˜All, except one,’ Carrie pointed out, refusing to be intimidated. ‘What are you doing here, Nico?’ she added, thinking him the last man on earth she had been expecting to walk into the hotel kitchen.

    â€˜You shouldn’t be cleaning floors,’ he said, shocked to see her…concerned for her safety, but he couldn’t tell her that without putting ideas in her head.
    â€˜Thank you would be enough,’ she assured him mildly. ‘I don’t know why you are so angry.’
    â€˜Did someone tell you to do that?’
    â€˜I’m quite capable of working on my own initiative.’
    Carrie was surprised to see a tug at one corner of Nico’s