Читать книгу Snowkissed: Christmas Kisses with Her Boss / Proposal at the Winter Ball / The Prince's Christmas Vow - Jennifer Faye - Страница 13

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.’

One effusive farewell later and they were outside. Next to him, Ruby inhaled the cold crisp air and looked up into the darkness of the sky. ‘Do you think it will snow?’

‘Unlikely.’

‘So no white Christmas?’ Ruby said with a hint of wistfulness. ‘It’s a shame, really—can you imagine how beautiful Cornwall would be covered in snow?’ She shook her head. ‘On the subject of Christmas...how do you feel about a Christmas party at Caversham? Not on Christmas Day, obviously, but maybe Christmas Eve drinks? Or eve of Christmas Eve drinks? For suppliers and locals. A lot of the staff we’ve taken on are local, so I think it would be a nice idea. Bank some goodwill...show the Caversham community ethos.’

Ethan considered—it was a good idea. But not in the run-up to Christmas.

‘It doesn’t fit with my plans.’ More plans he didn’t wish to share. ‘Maybe we could think about it later? After New Year? Anyway, I know you said you had Christmas plans as well. So take some time off. From the twenty-first—that’s not a problem.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’

Enthusiasm was not prominent in her voice and Ethan swallowed the urge to ask her exactly what her plans were. Not his business—and not fair, as he didn’t want to share his own.

The limo pulled up and he held the door open for Ruby to slide in, averted his eyes from the smooth length of her leg, hoped the tantalising cinnamon smell wouldn’t whirl his head further. Employee, employee, employee.

As soon as the car started she leant forward; now her enthusiasm shone through the dim interior of the car.

‘So—for the medieval banquet... I’ve already done loads of research and I’ve got some fab dishes we could use. What do you think about eels in a thick spicy purée, loach in a cold green sauce and a meat tile—which is chicken cooked in a spiced sauce of pounded crayfish tails, almonds and toasted bread, garnished with whole crayfish tails. Or capon pasties—or even eel and bream pasties. I’ve spoken to a medieval re-enactor and I reckon he’ll know someone who will come along and cook us some samples. We could even put together a recipe book and sell it—raise some extra funds.’

‘Excellent ideas. Though...what is loach?’

‘It’s a freshwater fish. Mind you, I’m not sure you can get it here.’ A quick rummage in her evening bag netted a small notebook and pen. ‘I’ll check. What about an auction?’ A sudden grin illuminated her face. ‘Hey! You could talk to Tony. Auction off a cooking lesson with Antonio Pugliano. What do you think?’

His breath caught as his lungs suspended their function. One thought only was in his mind—Ruby was so beautiful, so animated, so unutterably gorgeous, and all he wanted was to tug her across the seat and kiss her.