Snowkissed: Christmas Kisses with Her Boss / Proposal at the Winter Ball / The Prince's Christmas Vow
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‘Forget the Lottery. What if Mr Perfect turns up and says he wants a family right now? I wouldn’t see you for dust.’
The words stung—what would it take to show him that he could trust her? ‘That won’t happen because I’m not planning on a meeting with Mr Perfect. I don’t need Mr Perfect—or Mr Anyone. My plan is to be a single parent.’
His grey-blue eyes hardened, all emotion vanishing to leave only ice.
The advent of their waiter was a relief and a prevention of further conversation. As if sensing the tension, he worked deftly to remove their used plates and replace them.
‘Here is langoustine cooked three different ways. Roasted with a hint of chilli and served with puy lentils, grilled with seared avocado and manuka honey, and a langoustine mousseline with manzanilla,’ he said swiftly, before making a dignified retreat with a discreet, ‘Buon appetito.’
Ethan didn’t so much as peek down at his plate, and Ruby forced herself to hold his gaze even as regret pounded her temples. Of all the idiotic conversational paths to take, telling Ethan about her single parenthood aspirations rated right up there as the Idiot Trail. Her intent had been to prove her loyalty was genuine, to reassure him. Which was nuts. Ethan was a billionaire...head of a global business—he did not need reassurance from one restaurant manager minion.
‘This looks delicious,’ she ventured.
‘Enjoy it whilst you can. Single parenthood doesn’t offer much opportunity to eat like this.’
Was he for real? A trickle of anger seeped into her veins. ‘That’s a bit of a sweeping statement, don’t you think?’
His snort of derision caused her toes to tingle with the urge to kick him.
‘No. Do you have any idea of the reality of single parenthood? How hard it is?’
Swallowing down the threat of a mirthless laugh, she slapped some of the langoustine mousse onto some bread and took a bite. Tried to concentrate on the incredible hit to her tastebuds instead of the memories that hovered before her—memories of those childhood years when she had effectively looked after her siblings. Dark-haired Tom, blue-eyed Philippa and baby Edie...
Yes! she wanted to shout. Yes, she did know how hard it was—but she also knew with all her being that it was worth it.
‘I fully understand how enormous a responsibility parenting is and I know it will be hard. But I also know it will be incredibly rewarding.’
Ever since she’d lost her siblings, understood she would never be with them again. Ruby had known with every cell of her body and soul that she wanted a family.
Desperately she tried to neutralise her expression but it was too late—his blue-grey eyes considered her and his face lost some of its scowl.
‘Those are words, Ruby. Easy to say. But the reality of caring for a family and supporting them at the same time on your own is way more daunting.’ His voice sounded less harsh, yet the words were leaden with knowledge.
‘I know it won’t be easy.’
‘No, it won’t. Plus it’s not all about babies and how cute and sweet they are.’
‘I get that.’ Her teeth were now clenched so tightly her jaw ached. ‘I am not a fool, basing a decision like this on a baby’s cute factor.’
Given her plan to adopt, it was more than possible that she’d opt for older children. Children such as she and her siblings had been.
‘Babies grow up—into toddlers, into schoolchildren and into teenagers. Sometimes when you’re on your own, trying to do it all, it can go wrong.’ A shadow darkened his features and he scoured his palm over his face as if in an effort to erase it.
For a heartbeat doubt shook her—Tom had been five, the girls even younger when social services had finally hauled the whole family into care. If that hadn’t happened would it all have gone wrong for them? Maybe it would—but that was because back then she’d been a child herself. This time she had it all planned.
‘I told you. I won’t embark on having a family until I have sufficient resources to make it possible. I will make sure I can work part-time, I will have the best childcare known to mankind, and—’ Breaking off, she picked up her fork and pulled her plate towards her. Shook her head. ‘I have no idea why I am justifying myself to you. Who made you the authority on single parenthood?’
‘No one. But I am concerned that you are jumping the gun. Just because Hugh Farlane turned out to be a number one schmuck it doesn’t mean you have to dive into single parenthood. Maybe this desire for kids on your own is a reaction to how badly it worked out with Hugh. I don’t think you should make any hasty decisions, that’s all. It’s a mighty big step to take.’
His deep tone had gentled, the concern in it undoubtedly genuine, and that was worse than his scorn. That she could have dismissed, or countered with anger. But care triggered in her an alarming yearn to confide in him, to explain that her desire for a family was way more than a whim activated by Hugh’s perfidy.
Bad idea. Yet she had to say something.
‘I know that.’ She did. ‘But this is not a rebound decision from Hugh. Truly it isn’t. It feels right.’
‘Why?’
Ruby hesitated, picked up her glass and sipped a swirl of champagne, relieved to see their waiter approaching. Her brain raced as he placed the next course in front of them, rapidly explained that it consisted of crispy skinned chicken breast with black truffles, spinach and a white port sauce, and then discreetly melted into the background.
This would be the perfect opportunity to turn the conversation. Yet surely there was no harm in answering the question—maybe it was time to remind herself of her goals and her motivations...set it all out.
A warning chime pealed from the alcoves of her mind. This was meant to be a professional dinner. It was hard to see that this conversation was anything but personal. But for some indefinable reason it seemed natural. The ding-dong of alarm pealed harder. This was how it had felt a decade before. Curled up in a chair in the beige metallic confines of a hostel room, the temptation to talk and confide had ended up in disaster.
But it was different now, and...and, truth be told—she wanted him to know that she was all grown up...not some daft girl who hadn’t thought through the idea of going it alone into parenthood. So one last explanation and then she would move the conversation into professional waters.
CHAPTER SIX
ETHAN KNEW THAT the whole discussion had derailed spectacularly and that it behoved him to push it onto a blander path.
But, he couldn’t. Intrigue and frustration intermeshed at the idea of Ruby launching herself into the murk of single parenthood through choice.
Chill, Ethan.
There were many, many excellent single parents—he knew that. But it was a tough road; he knew from bitter personal experience exactly how difficult it was—had seen how it had played out for his mother.
‘So why single parenthood?’ he repeated.
Ruby carefully cut up a piece of chicken and for a moment he thought she would change the subject, then she put her cutlery down and shrugged.
‘Because I’m not exactly clued up at choosing good father material.’
‘Just because Hugh didn’t work out...’
Ruby snorted. ‘“Didn’t work out” is a bit of an understatement. But the point is that it’s not just Hugh. You see, Hugh wasn’t the first person to tug the wool over my eyes. Being taken in is my speciality—I could write a thesis. When I was nineteen there was Gary. I believed Gary to be a misunderstood individual who had been wrongfully dismissed. Turned out he was a drunken layabout who’d been quite rightly fired. Then a few years later there was Steve—a self-confessed gambler who swore himself hoarse that he was trying to quit. In reality he was keen on extracting as much money from me as possible to fund the local betting shop.’
A wave of her fork in his direction.
‘Hugh you know about. So surely you can see the theme here. I am not a good judge of character. So it makes sense to do this alone.’
‘But why do it at all? Or at least why do it now? You’re twenty-six.’
‘You are thirty. Most thirty-year-olds aren’t billionaire CEOs of their own global business. Ten years ago I knew I wanted a family and you knew you wanted to make it big. You’ve done that through grit and hard work and drive. Well, now I am doing the same to get a family.’
A frown slashed his brow. ‘Children aren’t an acquisition.’
‘I am not suggesting they are.’ She gave an expressive roll of her eyes as she huffed out a breath that left her exasperation to hover in the air. ‘Sheesh. What is wrong with wanting to have children?’
‘Nothing.’
For Pete’s sake—he’d muttered the word, and now his lips had pressed together as a barrier to the further words that wanted to spill from his lips with unprecedented freedom. To stem the explanation that having children could lead to devastation not joy.
His mother had been deprived of her daughter—her pride and joy. For an instant the image of Tanya’s lifeless body assaulted his brain. His sister—driven to take her own life. And he hadn’t known—hadn’t been able to protect her.
His mother had been left with him, her son, a mirror image of her violent criminal husband. The son she had never been able to love but had done her duty by. Until he’d driven her to snap point and she’d washed her hands of him.
For a split second the memory of the packed case and the hand-over to social services jarred his brain. No fault of hers—in her eyes he’d been on the road to following his father’s footsteps. His impassioned pleas for forgiveness and promises to reform would have simply been further shades of the man she despised.
Ethan shut down the thought process and concentrated on Ruby’s face. Those sapphire eyes, delicate features and that determined chin. Her expression of challenge had morphed into one of concern and he forced his vocal cords into action and his face into neutral.
‘There is nothing wrong with wanting children. I just think you need to give single parenthood a lot of thought and not enter the whole venture with rose-coloured spectacles. That’s all.’
End of subject, and Ethan picked up his knife and fork and started to eat.
Ruby twirled a tendril of hair around her finger. ‘What about you? Where do you stand on the venture into parenthood? Don’t you hope for a family one day?’
‘No.’
The idea of a family was enough to bring him out in hives. Family had brought him nothing except a one-way channel to loss, heartbreak and rejection. So what was the point?
‘Never?’ Surprise laced her tone.
‘No.’ Perhaps monosyllables would indicate to Ruby that this wasn’t a topic he wished to pursue.
‘Why not?’
Clearly the indirect approach hadn’t worked—so it was time to make it clear.
‘That’s my personal choice.’
Hurt mingled with anger flashed across her features. Fair enough, Ethan. He’d been mighty fine with a personal conversation when it was her personal life under discussion.
‘In brief, it’s not what I want. Like you. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am and I don’t want to rock the boat. I’m exactly where I want to be. And I know exactly where I’m going.’
‘Isn’t that a bit boring? I mean, will that be your life for ever? Buy another property...set up another venture? What happens when you run out of countries?’
Ethan blinked at the barrage of questions. ‘Boring? I run a global business, travel the world on a daily basis, have more than enough money and a pretty nifty lifestyle. So, nope. Not humdrum.’
‘But...’ A shake of her head and she turned her attention back to her plate.
Following suit, he took another mouthful, tried to appreciate the delicacy of the truffles, the infusion of port, the tenderness of the meat. To his own irritation he couldn’t let it go.
‘But what?’
Her shoulders lifted and for a second his gaze lingered on the creamy skin, the enticing hint of cleavage.
‘That world of yours—that non-rocking boat of yours—only contains you, and that sounds lonely. Unless you’re in a relationship that you haven’t mentioned?’
‘Nope. It’s a one-man vessel and I’m good with that.’
‘So you don’t want a long-term relationship or kids? Ever?’
‘I don’t want any type of relationship. Full stop. I make sure my...my liaisons are brief.’ Like a night—a weekend, tops.
Ruby’s eyed widened and his exasperation escalated as he identified compassion in her.
‘But you’ve worked so hard to build up Caversham. What’s the point if you don’t have someone to hand it over to?’
‘That’s hardly a reason to have a child.’
‘Not a reason, but surely part of being a parent is the desire to pass on your values or beliefs. A part of yourself.’
The very idea made him go cold. ‘I think that’s a bit egocentric. You can’t have children just to inculcate them with your beliefs.’
‘No!’ She shook her head, impatience in the movement. ‘You’re making it sound as if I want to instil them with questionable propaganda. I don’t. But I do believe we are programmed with a need to nurture. To love and be loved.’
‘Well, I’m the exception to the rule.’
Her chin angled in defiance. ‘Or your programming has gone haywire.’
Ethan picked his glass up and sipped the fizz. No way would he rise to that bait.
‘The point is, even if you’re right, it is wrong to put that burden on someone. That responsibility. You shouldn’t have a child just because you want someone to love and love you back. There are enough people out there already. The world doesn’t need more.’
‘Actually...’ Ruby hesitated.
‘Actually, what?’
‘Nothing.’
Before he could respond the boom of Tony Pugliano’s voice rang out. ‘So, my friends. It was all to your liking?’
* * *
Ruby’s thoughts whirled as she strove to concentrate on Tony’s question, primed her lips to smile. Maybe this was an intervention from providence itself—a reinforcement of her decision to cease with the confidences.
‘It was incredible, Tony!’ she stated.
‘How could it be anything else?’ the chef declared. ‘And now we have the perfect end to the perfect meal—I have for you a sample of the very best desserts in the world.’
He waved an expansive hand and the waiter appeared with an enormous platter, which he placed in the middle of the table.
‘I, Tony Pugliano, prepared these with my own hands for your delectation. There is praline mousseline with cherry confit, clementine cheesecake, almond and black sesame pannacotta and a dark chilli chocolate lime torta.’ He beamed as he clapped Ethan on the shoulder. ‘And of course all this is on the house.’
There went her jaw again—headed kneewards. On the house. She doubted such words had ever crossed Tony’s lips before.
‘You look surprised. No need. Because never, never can I thank this man enough. You saved my Carlo—my one and only child. You are a good man, Ethan, and I thank you with all my heart.’
Tony seemed sublimely unaware of Ethan’s look of intense discomfort. Yet the shadow in Ethan’s eye, the flash of darkness, made her chest band in instinctive sympathy.
‘I think this meal goes a long way towards thanks,’ she said. ‘It was divine. I don’t suppose you would share the secret of the truffle sauce in...?’
The tactic worked. As if recalled to his chef persona, Tony gave a mock roar and shook his head.
‘Never. Not even for you would I reveal the Pugliano family secret. It has passed from one generation to the next for centuries and shall remain sacrosanct for ever. Now—I shall leave you to enjoy the fruit of my unsurpassable skills.’
Once he had made a majestic exit, Ethan nodded. ‘Thanks for the change of subject.’
‘No problem.’ Ruby reached out and selected a mini-dessert. ‘I knew it took more than charm to get Tony Pugliano grazing from your hand. Whatever you did for his son must have been a big deal.’
Ethan shrugged his shoulders, the casual gesture at variance with the wariness in his clenched jaw. ‘I was in a position to help his son and I did so. Simple as that.’
‘It didn’t sound simple to me. More like fundamental.’
‘How about another change of subject?’
Picking up a morsel of cheesecake, he popped it in his mouth. His expression was not so much closed as locked, barred and padlocked—with a ‘Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted’ sign up to boot.
‘I think our dinner conversation has gone a bit off the business track.’
He wasn’t wrong. In fact she should be doused in relief that he didn’t want to rewind their conversational spool. Because she had been on the cusp of intimacy—tempted to confide to Ethan that her plan was to adopt, about to spill even more of her guts. And a girl needed her intestines to survive. Something she would do well to remember.
Her family plans were zilch to do with Ethan Caversham. And similarly there was no need for her to wonder why he had decided to eschew love of any sort from a partner or a child. Over the past week she’d gained his trust, they had built up an easy working relationship, and she would not risk that. She mustn’t let this man tug her into an emotional vortex again. Ten years ago it had been understandable. Now it would be classed as sheer stupidity.
‘So,’ he said. ‘How about we start with what you think of this restaurant? With your guest’s hat on?’
‘Modern. Sweeping. The glass effect works to make it sleek, and his table placement is extraordinary. I love the balcony—it’s contemporary and it’s got buzz. Those enormous flower arrangements are perfect. As for the Christmas effect—it is superb.’
Maybe she could blame the glitter of the pseudo icicles or the scent of cinnamon and gingerbread that lingered in the air for flavouring their conversation with intimacy...
‘Definitely five-star. But is this what you want for Caversham?’
‘Five stars? Absolutely.’
‘I get that, but I have an idea that you’re holding some information back. About your plans for the castle.’ Something she couldn’t quantify made her know that what Tony Pugliano had achieved wasn’t exactly what Ethan was after. His body stilled and she scooped up a spoonful of the cheesecake, allowed the cold tang of clementine to melt on her tongue. ‘Am I right?’
Ethan drummed a rhythm on the table. ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘But it’s on a need-to-know basis.’
‘Don’t you think that as your restaurant manager I “need to know”?’
‘Yes—and when it’s the right time I will tell you. For now, I’d like to discuss the grand opening.’
Determination not to show hurt allowed her to nod, relieved that the movement shook her hair forward to shield her expression from those all-seeing eyes.
‘Fair enough.’
An inhalation of breath and she summoned enthusiasm—she was excited about her ideas for the event and she would not let Ethan’s caginess shadow that.
‘I thought we could have a medieval theme—maybe even a ball. And what do you think about the idea of making it a fundraiser? I know we’ve already confirmed the guest list, but I think people will happily buy tickets for a good cause. Especially if they also get publicity from it. We could offer exclusive coverage to one of the celebrity gossip mags and—’
Ruby broke off. Ethan sat immobile, his silence uninterpretable.
Then... ‘It’s a great idea,’ Ethan said. A sudden rueful smile tipped his lips and curled her toes. ‘In fact it ties in perfectly with my ideas for the castle. So I guess you now “need to know”.’ His smile vanished and left his lips in a hard straight line. ‘In brief, I want to run Caversham Castle as a charitable venture. So kick-starting it with a fundraiser would work well.’
It was as if each word had been wrung from him and confusion creased her brow. ‘I love the idea, but can you tell me more? Is it a particular charity you want to raise money for? The more information I have the more successful I can make the event.’
‘The money raised will go to a charity that helps troubled teens. Gets them off the streets, helps them back on their feet if they’ve been in juvie.’
It took a few moments for the true meaning of his words to make an impact, and then it took all her will-power not to launch herself across the table and wrap her arms around him. Only the knowledge that they were in a public place and the suspicion that Ethan would loathe the display kept her in her seat. But the idea that Ethan Caversham, renowned tough guy and entrepreneur, had a different side to him made her tummy go gooey. He’d experienced life on the streets, been a troubled teen himself and now he wanted to help others.
‘I think that is an amazing idea. Brilliant. We will make this the best fundraiser ever.’ Her mind was already fizzing with ideas. ‘How about we go back to my suite for coffee and a brainstorm?’
* * *
Ethan bit back a groan and tried to get a grip. Better late than never, after all. Somehow he’d utterly lost his grasp of events—the conversation had spiralled out of control and now he could see more than a flicker of approval in Ruby’s eyes. An approval he didn’t want.
Time to try and relocate even a shard of perspective.
Ruby was his employee—one who could help make this fundraiser work. Therefore he should be pleased at her enthusiasm and accept her approval on a professional level, not a personal one.
So... ‘Coffee and a brainstorm sound good.’
‘Perfect.’ A blink of hesitation and then she reached out and covered his hand with her own. ‘I will make this rock. I remember how it felt to be a teenager on the streets. It was like being shrouded in invisibility. Even the people who dropped a ten pence piece in front of me did it without even a glance.’
A small shiver ran through her body, and her eyes were wide in a face that had been leached of colour.
‘The idea of subsisting on people’s charity made me feel small and helpless and angry and very alone.’
The image of Ruby huddled on the streets smote his chest.
‘It is an endemic problem. I know there are hostels and soup kitchens and the like, and that is incredible, but I want to do something more hands-on, more direct—’ He broke off.
The image of a homeless Ruby had set him galloping on his hobby horse.
‘Like what?’ She leant forward, her entire being absorbed in their conversation. ‘Come on, Ethan—spill. I want to help.’
Her sincerity was vibrant and how could he quench that? It would be wrong.
‘My idea for the castle is to open it as a luxury hotel for nine months of the year and then use the proceeds to utilise it differently for the remaining three months. As a place for troubled teens. Surfing holidays but also training courses, so they can learn job skills—maybe in the hotel industry.’
He’d explained his idea to Rafael, but somehow the words were much harder to utter now—maybe because Rafael understood his need for redemption, retribution, second chances. Ruby didn’t. And there it was—the dawning of approbation, the foretaste of hero worship simmering in her beautiful eyes.
‘That is an awesome idea,’ she said quietly. ‘Truly. Tony was right. You are a good man.’
The words were not what he wanted to hear—there was too much in his past for him to have earned that epithet.
‘I’m not quite ready for a halo—all I plan to do is use the profits from a business venture to try and do some good. That’s all. Don’t big it up into more than it is.’
A push of the nearly empty dessert plate across the table.
‘Now, eat up and then let’s go brainstorm.’
There went her chin again. ‘You’re not just raising money—you have a hands-on plan that will help some of those homeless kids out there. That’s pretty big in my book, and nothing you say will change my opinion. Now, we’d better find Tony and say goodbye.’