Читать книгу Snowkissed: Christmas Kisses with Her Boss / Proposal at the Winter Ball / The Prince's Christmas Vow - Jennifer Faye - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

ETHAN HANDED RAFAEL a crystal tumbler of malt whisky, checked the fire and sat down in the opposite armchair.

Rafael cradled the glass. ‘So, my old friend, tell me what it is you want of me?’

‘To negotiate a wine deal. You provide my restaurants worldwide at a cost we negotiate. All except here at Caversham Castle—here I’d like you to donate the wine.’

‘And why would I do that?’ Rafael scanned the room and the slight upturn of his lips glinted with amusement. ‘In the spirit of Christmas?’

‘Yes,’ Ethan said. ‘If by that you mean the spirit of giving and caring. Because I plan to run Caversham Castle differently from my other businesses. As a charitable concern. The castle will be open to holidaymakers for nine months of the year and for the remaining three it will be used as a place to help disadvantaged youngsters.’

For a second, the image of him and Rafael, side by side as they faced down one of the gangs that had roved their estate, flashed in his mind. They had both been loners, but when Rafael had seen him in trouble he’d come to his aid.

‘I plan to provide sporting holidays and job-training opportunities. Run fundraisers where they can help out and help organise them. Get involved. Make a difference.’ He met Rafael’s gaze. ‘Give them a chance to do what we’ve both done.’

After all, they had both been experts in petty crime, headed towards worse, but they had both turned their lives around.

‘We did it on our own.’

‘Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t help others.’

Before Rafael could reply the door swung open and Ruby entered.

Whoa. She looked stunning, and Ethan nearly inhaled his mouthful of whisky. Her dark luxuriant hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, clipped with a red barrette. A black dress that reached mid-thigh was cinched at the waist with a wide red sash, and—heaven help him—she wore black peeptoe shoes with jaunty red bows at the heels. Clearly she was giving the new uniform an airing.

A small smile curved her lips as she glided towards them and placed a tray on the table. ‘Appetisers to go with your pre-dinner drinks,’ she said. ‘Parma ham and mozzarella bites, and smoked salmon on crushed potato’.

‘Thank you, Ruby.’ Attempting to gather his scattered brain cells, Ethan rose to his feet and Rafael followed suit, his dark eyes alight with interest.

‘Rafael, this is Ruby Hampton—my restaurant manager.’

‘Enchanted to meet you.’ Rafael smiled. ‘The lady who knocked me off the celebrity gossip pages.’

Colour leached from her face and Ethan stepped towards her.

‘I... I hope you enjoyed the respite,’ she said, her smile not wavering, and admiration touched his chest. ‘I’m not planning on a repeat run.’

Rafael gave a small laugh. ‘Well said.’ He reached down and picked up one of the canapés and popped it into his mouth. ‘Exquisite.’

‘Thank you. I’ll leave you to it, and then I’ll be back with the starters in about fifteen minutes.’

‘So...’ Rafael said as the door swung shut. ‘You’ve hired Ruby Hampton?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? Because you want to give her a second chance?’ Rafael gestured round the bar. ‘That’s what this is about, right? You want people to be given a chance?’

‘Yes. I do. I want youngsters who’ve had a tough time in life to see there is a choice apart from a life of truancy and mindless crime.’

Images of the bleak landscape of the council estate they’d grown up on streamed in his mind.

‘And I want society to recognise that they deserve a chance even if they’ve messed up.’

Rafael leant back. ‘You see, I think people should make their own choices and prove they deserve a chance. So let’s talk business, my friend, and let me think about the charitable angle.’

‘Done.’

Ethan placed his whisky glass down. Time to show Rafael Martinez that he might have a philanthropic side, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t hard-nosed at the negotiating table—helped by the fact that said table was soon occupied by melt-in-the-mouth food, discreetly delivered and served.

In fact if it wasn’t for the ultra-sensitive ‘detecting Ruby’ antennae he seemed to have developed he doubted he would have noticed her presence.

Once the dessert plates were cleared away Ethan scribbled some final figures down and handed them across to Rafael. ‘So we’re agreed?’

‘We’re agreed. I’ll get it drawn up legally and the contracts across to you tomorrow.’

‘And the wine for Caversham Castle?’

Rafael crossed one long leg across his knee and steepled his fingers together as Ruby entered with a tray of coffee.

‘Ruby, I’d like to thank you. Dinner was superb. Why don’t you join us for coffee?’ His smile widened and Ruby hesitated, but then Rafael rose and pulled out a chair for her. ‘I insist. I’m sure you and I will have some contact in the future.’

Half an hour later Ethan resisted the urge to applaud. Conversation had flowed and Ethan could only admire the fact that somehow Ruby had found the time to research Rafael sufficiently to engage him on topics that interested him.

Eventually Ruby rose to her feet and held a hand out to Rafael. ‘It’s been a pleasure—and now I’ll leave you two to get back to business.’

* * *

Ruby stood in the gleaming chrome confines of the state-of-the-art kitchens and allowed one puff of weariness to escape her lips as she wiped down the final surface.

Tired didn’t cover it—she was teetering on the cliff of exhaustion. But she welcomed it. The past week had been incredible. Sure, Ethan was a hard taskmaster, but the man was a human dynamo—and it had energised her. There were times when she could almost believe the whole debacle with Hugh Farlane had been a bad dream. The only whisper of worry was that it wasn’t the work that provided balm—it was working with Ethan.

As if her thoughts had the art of conjure, the kitchen door swung open and there he stood. Still suited in the charcoal-grey wool that fitted him to perfection, he’d shed his tie and undone the top button of the crisp white shirt. Her gaze snagged on the triangle of golden bare skin and her breath caught in her throat as he strode towards her.

Cool it, Ruby.

Will power forced the tumult of her pulse to slow. ‘All signed on the dotted line?’

‘Yes.’ His eyes were alight with satisfaction and she could feel energy vibrate off him. ‘Rafael just left and I’ve come to thank you.’

‘No problem. Just doing my job.’

‘No. You went the extra mile and then some. The meal, the décor...and then you—you charmed the pants off him.’

His words caused a flinch that she tried to turn into another swipe of the counter; panic lashed her as she reviewed their coffee conversation.

‘What’s wrong?’

She shrugged and straightened up. ‘I guess I’m hoping Rafael didn’t think that was my aim in the literal sense.’

Comprehension dawned in his eyes. ‘He didn’t. You did your job. You liaised.’

His matter-of-fact assurance warmed her very soul. ‘Thank you for seeing that. Problem is, I’m not sure everyone will. The world believes I trapped Hugh whilst liaising on the job.’

He stepped towards her, frustration evident in the power of his stride, in the tension that tautened his body. ‘Then deny the allegations.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not? Unless you do feel guilty?’ Blue-grey eyes bored into her. ‘If he dazzled you with his wealth and charm that doesn’t make you a gold-digger. When you start out with nothing it’s easy to be swept off your feet—to welcome the idea of lifelong security and easy wealth. There is no need for guilt.’

‘I wasn’t dazzled by his wealth. I always vowed that I would earn my keep every step of the way.’ Wouldn’t set foot on her parents’ path. ‘I wasn’t after Hugh’s cash.’

And yet...

A small hard lump of honesty formed in her tummy. ‘But I suppose with hindsight I am worried that I was dazzled by the idea of a family. He said he wanted kids, and...’

Yes, there had been that idea of it being within her grasp—the idea that she’d finally found a man who wanted a family. Not a man like Steve or Gary but a man who could provide, who needed her and wanted her help to heal him... What a sucker she’d been. Never again—that was for sure.

‘I assume he lied? Like he’s lying now? That is his bad. Not yours. So fight him. I had you down as a fighter.’

‘I can’t win this fight. Hugh Farlane is too big to take on. It’s unbelievable how much clout he has. He has enough money to sink a ship...enough publicity people to spin the Bayeux Tapestry.’

‘What about right and wrong?’

‘That’s subjective.’

It was a lesson she had learnt the hard way. She’d fought the good fight before and lost her siblings. Lord knew she was so very happy for them—joyful that Tom and Edie and Philippa had found an adoptive family to love them all. But it had been hard to accept that they would never be the happy family unit she had always dreamed they would be.

So many dreams...woven, threaded, embroidered with intricate care. Of parents who cleaned up their alcohol and drug-fuelled life and transformed themselves into people who cared and nurtured and loved... And when that dream had dissolved she had rethreaded the loom with rose threads and produced a new picture. An adoptive family who would take them all in and provide a normal life—a place where love abounded along with food, drink, clothes and happiness...

She’d fought for both those dreams and been beaten both times. Still had the bruises. So she might have learnt the hard way, but she’d sucked the lesson right up.

‘Yes, it is.’ His voice was hard. ‘But you should still fight injustice. You owe it yourself.’

‘No! What I owe myself is to not let my life be wiped out.’ Again. ‘I’ve worked hard to get where I am now, and I will not throw it away.’

‘I don’t see how denying these allegations equates to chucking your life away. Unless...’

A deep slash creased his brow and she could almost hear the cogs of his brain click into gear. For a crazy moment she considered breaking into a dance to distract him. But then...

‘Has he forced you to silence? Threatened you?’

Ethan started to pace, his strides covering the resin floor from the grill station with its burnished charbroiler to the sauté station where she stood.

‘Is that why you aren’t fighting this? Why you haven’t refuted the rubbish in the papers? Why Farlane knows he can slate you with impunity and guarantee he’ll come up drenched in the scent of roses.’

Just freaking fabulous—he’d worked it out. ‘Leave it, Ethan. It doesn’t matter. This is my choice. To not add more logs to already fiery flames.’

His expulsion of breath tinged the air with impatience. ‘That’s a pretty crummy choice.’

‘Easy for you to say. You’re the multimillionaire head of a global business and best mates with the Rafael Martinezes of the world.’

‘That is irrelevant. I would take Hugh Farlane down, whatever my bank balance and connections, because he is a bully. The kind of man who uses his power to hurt and terrorise others.’

Ruby blinked; the ice in his voice had caused the hairs on her arms to stand to attention.

‘If you don’t stand up to him he will do this to someone else. Bully them, harass them, scare them.’

‘No, he won’t.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Yes, I do...’

Ruby hesitated, tried to tell herself that common sense dictated she end this exchange here and now. But, she couldn’t. Her tummy churned in repudiation of the disappointment in his gaze, the flick of disdain in his tone.

‘The whole engagement was a set-up.’

The taste of mortification was bitter on her tongue as the words were blurted out.

Ethan frowned. You two were faking a relationship?’

‘No. We weren’t faking. Hugh was. It was a publicity stunt—he needed an urgent image-change. His public were disenchanted with his womanising and his sex addiction. Hugh was keen to get into the more serious side of acting as well, and he wanted to impress the Forsythe sisters, who are notorious for their high moral standards. So he figured he’d get engaged to someone “normal”. I fell for it. Hook line and sinker.’

His jaw clenched. ‘So it was a scam?’

‘Yup. I thought he loved me—in reality he was using me.’

Story of her life.

‘I resigned because he asked me to—so that I could be by his side. He told me it was to help him. To keep him from the temptation to stray. But really it was all about the publicity. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Hugh Farlane...rich, famous...a man who could have any woman he wanted...decided to sweep me off my feet, to change his whole lifestyle, marry me. He said we would live happily ever after with lots of sproglets.’ She shook her head. ‘I of all people should have known the stupidity of believing that.’

Her own parents hadn’t loved her enough to change their lifestyles—despite their endless promises to quit, their addictions had held sway over their world. Rendered them immoral and uncaring of anything except the whereabouts of their next fix.

‘How did you find out?’

Ethan’s voice pulled her back to the present.

‘He “confessed” when I found him in bed with another woman. A hooker, no less. Turned out he’d been sleeping around the whole time. He’d told me that he wanted to wait to sleep with me until we got married, to prove I was “different”.’

Little wonder her cheeks were burning—she’d accepted Hugh’s declaration as further evidence of his feelings for her, of his willingness to change his lifestyle for her, and her soul had sung.

‘In reality it was so that he could be free at night for some extracurricular action between the sheets.’

For a second a flicker of relief crossed his face, before sheer contempt hardened his features to granite. Both emotions she fully grasped. If she’d actually slept with Hugh she would feel even more besmirched than she already did. As for contempt—she’d been through every shade, though each one had been tinted with a healthy dose of self-castigation at her own stupidity.

‘Anyway, once I got over the shock I chucked the ring at him, advised him to pay the woman with it and left. Then his publicity machine swung into action. Hugh’s first gambit was to apologise. It was cringeworthy. Next up, ironically enough, he offered to pay me to play the role of his fiancée. When I refused, it all got a bit ugly.’

Ethan halted, his jaw and hands clenched. ‘You want me to go and find him? Drag him here and make him grovel?’

‘No!’

But his words had loosed a thrill into her veins—there was no doubt in her mind that he would do exactly that. For a second she lingered on the satisfying image of a kowtowing Hugh Farlane and she gave a sudden gurgle of laughter.

‘I appreciate it, but no—thank you. The point is he said he’d never bother to pull a publicity stunt like this again. So I don’t need to make a stand for the greater good. To be honest, I just want it to blow over; I want the threats and the hatred to stop.’

Ethan drummed his fingers on the counter and her flesh goosebumped at his proximity, at the level of anger that buzzed off him. It was an anger with a depth that filled her with the urge to try to soothe him. Instinct told her this went deeper than outrage on her behalf, and her hand rose to reach out and touch him. Rested on his forearm.

His muscles tensed and his blue-grey gaze contemplated her touch for a stretch. Then he covered her hand with his own and the sheer warmth made her sway.

‘I’m sorry you went through that, Ruby. I’d like to make the bastard pay.’

‘It’s okay.’ Ruby shook her head. ‘I’m good. Thanks to you. You gave me a chance, believed in me, and that means the world.’

Lighten the mood. Before you do something nuts like lean over and kiss him on the cheek. Or just inhale his woodsy aroma.

‘If it weren’t for you I’d still be under my duvet, ice cream in hand. Instead I’m here. Helping renovate a castle. So I’m really good, and I want to move forward with my life.’

‘Then let’s do exactly that.’ Ethan nodded. ‘Let’s go to dinner.’

‘Huh?’ Confusion flicked her, along with a thread of apprehension at the glint in his eye. ‘Now? You’ve had dinner, remember?’

‘Tomorrow. Pugliano’s. In the next town along.’

‘Pugliano’s? You’re kidding? We’d never get in at such short notice.’

‘Don’t worry about that. We’ll get a table.’

‘But why do you want us to go out for dinner?’ For a scant nanosecond her heart speeded up, made giddy by the idea that it was a date.

‘To celebrate making your appointment official. You’re off trial.’

‘I am?’ A momentary emotion she refused to acknowledge as disappointment that it was not a date twanged. To be succeeded by suspicion. ‘Why?’

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

This was good news, right? The type that should have her cartwheeling around the room. But...

‘I don’t want this job out of pity.’

‘Look at me.’ He met her gaze. ‘Do I look like a man who would appoint someone to an important business role out of pity?’

‘Fair point. No, you don’t. But I think your timing is suspect.’

‘Nope. You’ve proved yourself this past week. You’ve matched my work drive without complaint and with enthusiasm. Tonight you went beyond the call of duty with Rafael and now you’ve told me the truth. No pity involved. So... Dinner?’

‘Dinner.’

Try as she might the idea sizzled—right alongside his touch. His hand still covered hers and she wanted more.

As if realisation hit him at the same instant he released his grip and stepped backwards. ‘It will be good for you as well. To see how Pugliano’s works.’

‘Good...how?’ Hurt flickered across her chest. ‘I’ve researched all your places. I’ve talked to your restaurant managers in Spain and France and New York. Plus I know how a top-notch restaurant works already.’

‘Sure—but as a manager, not as a guest.’ He raised a hand. ‘I know your engagement to Hugh was filled with social occasions in glitzy places, but you said it yourself you didn’t enjoy them and now I get why. I want you to see it from the point of view of a guest. Experience it from that side of the table.’

Despite all her endeavour, the bit of her that persisted in believing the date scenario pointed out that she would positively revel in the experience alongside Ethan.

The thought unleashed a flutter of apprehension.

Chill, Ruby. And think this through.

This was not a date, and actually... ‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea. What if it reactivates the media hype? What if people think that I’m moving in on you, shovel in hand, kitted out in my gold-prospecting ensemble?’

His broad shoulders shrugged with an indifference she could only envy. ‘Does it matter what people think?’

‘It does if it starts up a media storm.’

‘We can weather the storm. This is a business dinner, not a date, and I don’t have a problem going public with that.’

‘Well, I do. I can picture it—sitting there being stared at, whispered about...the salacious glances...’

‘But once they see two people clearly in the process of having a business dinner they will lose interest and stop gawping.’

‘What about the negative publicity viewpoint?’

‘You are my restaurant manager. You do your job and I will deal with any negative publicity. I stand by my employees. Look, I get that it will be hard, but if you want to move on you need to face it. I’ll be right there by your side.’

‘I get that it will be hard... You need to face it... I’ll be right there by your side.’

The phrases echoed along the passage of a decade—the self-same words that the younger Ethan Caversham had uttered.

Those grey-blue eyes had held her mesmerised and his voice, his sheer presence, had held her panic attacks at bay. It had been Ethan who had made her leave the hostel, who had built her confidence so she could walk the streets again, only this time with more assurance, with a poise engendered by the self-defence classes he’d enrolled her in.

Yes—for weeks he’d been by her side. Then he’d gone. One overstep on her part, one outburst on his, and he’d gone. Left her. Moved out and away, leaving no forwarding address.

Ruby met his gaze, hooded now, and wondered if he had travelled the same memory route. She reminded herself that now it was different—she was different. No way would she open herself to that hurt again—that particular door was permanently closed and armour-plated.

So Ethan was right—to move forward she needed to put herself out there.

‘Let’s do this.’