Читать книгу Snowkissed: Christmas Kisses with Her Boss / Proposal at the Winter Ball / The Prince's Christmas Vow - Jennifer Faye - Страница 17
ОглавлениеRUBY GLANCED ACROSS at Ethan and tried to stop her tummy from a launch into cartwheels. Tried to tell herself that her stomach’s antics were a Braxton-Hicks-type reaction to non-existent air turbulence. Why on earth had she consented to this? Why in this universe had he suggested it?
Because it was work. That was why. Ethan wanted to scout out the French Alps and had decided that this was an ideal time. Plus he was a generous man, and this was his way of showing appreciation for all her hard work.
Work, Ruby. That was what this was and she had best remember that. After all it was Christmas Day, and apart from a perfunctory ‘Merry Christmas’ Ethan hadn’t so much as referred to the fact.
Though she could hardly blame him. Organising their departure had been his priority, and she could only admire the efficiency that had achieved a super-early trip to her London apartment to pick up her passport, followed by a trip to the airport that had given her sufficient time to pick up the extra cold-weather clothes she needed as well as time for a spirited argument over who would pay for said clothing.
Now here they were, on board a flight to Geneva, where they would pick up a car. So who could blame Ethan for not making a hue and cry about it being Christmas—he was taking her to a magical Christmas place after all.
On a business trip.
What else did she want it to be?
Yet as she studied the strength of his profile, the potent force of his jaw, an obscure yearning banded her chest—as if she were a girl with her nose pressed against the glass pane of a sweet shop. Gazing, coveting, but unable to touch.
As if he sensed her gaze he turned to look at her and the breath hitched in her throat. The man was so gorgeous—but it was more than that. The way he had been with those teenagers had filled her with admiration. He’d shown them respect and invited respect in return—the fact that he’d cared about them had shone through, and it had triggered this ridiculous gooeyness inside her.
Enough. Say something. Before you embarrass yourself.
To her relief panic mobilised her vocal cords and she burst into speech. ‘I was wondering—where are we staying?’
‘The travel agent managed to find us a chalet; there weren’t many options but she assured me that it would be perfect. And I’ve organised an itinerary.’
For a second his voice sounded almost gruff...even vulnerable...and she thought there was a hint of colour on the strong angles of his face.
‘What sort of an itinerary?’
‘The kind that will give us an idea of what other resorts offer.’ Now his tone had segued to brusque—she was an idiot. What had she thought? That he’d picked things out for her?
‘Great.’
The chalet was presumably part of a resort—which would be good. There would be hustle and bustle and other people, and they would be kept so busy with work that the two days would pass by in a flash.
‘Sure is.’ Ethan nodded a touch too enthusiastically. ‘I’ve got the address, so once we land we’ll pick up the hire car, put the location into the satnav and be on our way.’
* * *
This had to be a joke right? Ethan stared through the windscreen of the four-by-four that had negotiated the curving mountain roads and treacherous hairpin bends to bring them to the chalet that the satnav had announced was their destination. He’d swear the robotic voice had a gloat to it.
He was going to track down that travel agent and have serious words. She had described the chalet as ‘just the place’ and left Ethan with the impression that it was part of a busy resort, awash with people and activities. Though maybe he’d been so distracted by Ruby, so caught up in the mad impulse of the moment, that he’d heard what he’d wanted to hear.
Because it turned out that the chalet was a higgledy-piggledy structure nestled in the fold of a valley and it looked like it had come straight out of a fairy tale. Set in a circular grove of snow-heaped birches, the property was made completely of wood. It practically glowed. Quaint wooden shutters boxed in the windows and there wasn’t another person in sight.
It looked as if it had descended from the clouds especially for Christmas. It was a surprise that it wasn’t wrapped up in festive paper with a bow on top.
Ethan resisted the urge to thunk his forehead on the chunky steering wheel. Instead he glanced across at Ruby, who had fallen asleep on the motorway and slept like the proverbial infant for the entire drive. Perhaps if he started the car he could drive them to the nearest hotel and blag them two rooms. Or he could phone the travel agent and...
Too late.
Next to him Ruby stretched sleepily and opened her eyes; her sleep-creased face looked adorably kissable.
‘Can’t believe I fell asleep.’ Her blue eyes widened as she took in the scene. ‘Oh, my goodness me! We get to stay here?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘It’s as if we’ve been beamed into a fairy tale. Or a Christmas card.’
Or a nightmare.
‘It’s magical. I reckon it may even be made of gingerbread.’
‘Which wouldn’t exactly be very useful, would it?’
Chill, Ethan. Snapping wouldn’t change the setting.
‘Plus, I don’t much want to be trapped in a cage by a wicked witch and fattened up. In fact maybe we should go and find somewhere else to stay.’
Her gurgle of laughter indicated that she’d missed the fact he’d meant it as a genuine suggestion. ‘I didn’t have you down as a fairy tale expert.’
‘I’m not.’
For a second he remembered Tanya reading to him, his laughter at the funny voices she’d used for the different characters.
‘You should go on stage,’ he’d told her, and she’d shaken her head.
‘I’d be too shy, Thanny,’ she’d said in her soft voice. ‘But I love reading to you.’
He pushed the memory away and glared at the chalet. ‘I’m serious. Wouldn’t you rather stay somewhere busier? Less isolated? Less over-the-top?’
‘I...’ She gave her head a small shake. ‘Sorry, Ethan, I must still be half asleep. It just looks perfect for Christmas, but I guess it’s not a good idea to stay somewhere so...’ She trailed off.
So romantic, so small, so intimate.
Conversely the words challenged him—was he really saying that he was incapable of being in a romantic fairy tale chalet with Ruby? Talk about an overreaction. In truth the cutesy atmosphere should serve as a reminder that romance was anathema to him. Plus he could see from her expression that she had fallen for the place.
After the amount of work she’d put in these past weeks she deserved the chance to stay where she wanted to. With all she had been through in life she deserved a Christmas with some magic in it just as much as those teenagers had. Ethan might not believe in the magic of Christmas but Ruby Hampton did, and he would be a real-life Grinch if he denied her this.
‘Why don’t we go in and have a look round? Then decide what to do. The agent said the key would be outside, under a pot.’
Minutes later they crossed the threshold and irritation touched his brow as he realised he was holding his breath. What did he expect? A wolf dressed up as a grandma to jump out at them?
Instead he saw an open-plan area that brought the words cosy, intimate and snug to mind. Timber walls were decked with bright, vivid textiles and prints, there was a purple two-seater sofa, a fireplace piled with freshly chopped logs, a circular rustic pine table. Bright light flooded through the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out onto the crisp snow-covered garden. One corner of the room showcased an abundant Christmas tree decorated with beautifully crafted wooden decorations interspersed with red baubles.
‘This is...dreamy...’ Ruby said as she headed over to the table. ‘Hey! Look! It’s a hamper. Christmas coffee... Gingerbread... Nougat... Champagne...’ Picking up a card, she twirled to face him. ‘The larder and fridge are stocked with supplies as well.’
Okay, Ruby loved it, and for one disorientating second the look of wonder on her face made Ethan want to give her whatever she wanted.
A sudden sense that he was losing control sent an unfamiliar swirl of panic through his gut, caused him to strive for practicality. One swift glance took in the kitchen area, tiled and warm with pine and pottery, and another door through which he glimpsed a washing machine and a shower room. Which left...
‘Oh!’ Ruby gasped. ‘Look! The ladder must lead up to the next storey. It’s like a scene from Heidi.’
If there was a hayloft up there he would definitely sue the travel agent.
Ruby headed towards the ladder and started to climb, her long dark ponytail swinging a jaunty rhythm, her pert denim-clad bottom snagging his gaze.
Jeez. Get a grip, Ethan. They were in enough trouble.
* * *
Ruby stepped forward from the ladder-top and gazed around the cosy confines of the bedroom. The view from the window pulled her across the floor. Mountains sculpted the horizon, almost impossible in their precipitous snow-crested magnificence. A miracle of nature, of strata and formations that had resulted in a strength and enormity that dazzled—added to the swirl of emotions that pulsed through her. It was as if the chalet had indeed exerted some kind of Christmas spell over her.
Made her forget that this was a business trip, that any glimmer of attraction between them was impossible. Instead all that mattered to her was the fact that this place reeked of romance, oozed intimacy from every wooden beam and panel.
So much so that she couldn’t think straight: images waltzed and corkscrewed through her mind. Cast her as the princess and Ethan as the knight in spotless armour. Setting the scene as the place where they would...
Her gaze plunged to the snug double bed, with its patterned quilt and simple wooden headboard. More vivid pictures tangled in her imagination: herself snuggled up to Ethan, falling asleep in dappled moonlight, warm and safe from the bitter cold outside, seduced into wakefulness by the trail of his fingers on her skin...
‘On my way up.’
The sound of Ethan’s voice was like an ice bucket of reality. What was the matter with her? Panic knotted her tummy as she leapt across the room to an interconnecting door and wrenched it open.
She swung round as Ethan mounted the ladder, willed her heart-rate to slow down, ordered her brain to leave the mushy fantasy world it had stupidly decided to inhabit. She should never have fallen asleep in the car. Falling asleep on a motorway and waking up in fairyland had obviously decimated her brain cells.
‘The bedrooms...’ she said.
Talk about a statement of the obvious.
He crossed the mezzanine floor and poked his head into the second room, so close that she had to close her eyes to combat the urge to touch him, to inhale his clean sandalwood scent. Whatever influence this place exerted had to be shaken off.
Holding her tummy in, she sidled past him towards the ladder-top.
‘It’s tiny,’ Ethan said. ‘It’s for children. It’s only got a minuscule bunk bed in it. That decides it. We can’t stay here.’
A glitter of relief flecked his eyes and she clocked the almost imperceptible sag of those broad shoulders.
Ruby knew it was wrong, but the knowledge that Ethan Caversham was worried about staying here with her triggered a feminine satisfaction.
The fact that she had managed to breach the professional wall he’d built up since that near-kiss prompted her to step forward.
‘I wouldn’t mind sleeping in there. There’s no way you could manoeuvre your way into the room, let alone the bed. But I’ll be fine. I’m flexible.’
Unable to help herself, she gave a little shimmy to demonstrate the point and his jaw clenched again. Whoa. Probably best not to bite off more than she could nibble. But this chalet called to something deep inside her. It was a magical place, made for dreams, and even though she knew dreams were a fallacy surely there could be no harm in two days of magic? It was Christmas, for crying out loud.
‘I think we should stay here. I mean, it’s quirky—it’s different. Maybe you could build a resort with places like this. Plus, it’s a good place to work. No distractions.’
Bwa-ha-ha-ha! went her hormones as they rolled on the floor with mirth. As a small voice shrieked in the dark recesses of her brain, pointed out that all those diversions she’d dissed would have equalled an effective chaperon service.
‘I’d like to stay here, but if you think it’s too difficult...’
Too late it occurred to her that Ethan had never been able to resist a challenge. His eyebrows rose and suddenly the room seemed even smaller.
‘So you want to stay here?’
‘Yup.’
Determination solidified inside her—her ill-advised hormones would not govern her actions. This place was magical, and magical was what she wanted. Not just for herself, but for Ethan as well. Surely even his cynicism, his determination to treat Christmas as just another day, wouldn’t be proof against this chalet?
He gave so much—wanted to make a difference in the lives of Max and Tara and others teens like them. Maybe it was time someone tried to make a difference for Ethan. That darkness she’d sensed inside him a decade ago—the darkness that still remained despite the aura of success—she wanted to change that, to lighten him up with some magic. How could that be wrong?
That small, insistent voice at the back of her mind clamoured to be heard—warned her that he hadn’t wanted her help ten years before and he didn’t want it now. It was advice she knew she should heed—she didn’t know how to change people...never had, never would. So she should back off. Instead she met his gaze.
‘Yes,’ she repeated. ‘I do want to stay here.’
Two days. It couldn’t harm.
His broad shoulders lifted. ‘Then so be it.’
The enormity of her own stupidity nearly overcame her. ‘Fabulous,’ she squeaked. ‘So let’s go and sample some of that Christmas coffee and gingerbread.’
And get out of the bedroom.
Repeating the mantra ‘We are professional’ under her breath, Ruby busied herself in the small kitchen area. Focused on the beautifully crafted pottery and the blue and white ceramic tiles as she made coffee. Inhaled its nutty roasted aroma and hoped it would defuse her disastrous awareness of Ethan.
Tray loaded, she headed to the lounge area. Flames crackled in the hearth and the sweet spicy scent of the logs infused the air.
Pouring out the coffee, handing out the gingerbread and lowering herself warily onto the sofa to avoid any form of thigh-to-thigh contact consumed all of five minutes.
The search for conversation turned out to be problematic. Ridiculous. Over the past days she and Ethan had spent hours in comfortable silence. Unfortunately right now comfort had legged it over the horizon into the alpine peaks.
Next to her Ethan shifted; she sipped her coffee as the silence stretched on.
This was madness—what had she been thinking? The ideal solution would have been to have let Ethan move them out of here. Here was the sort of place where couples came on honeymoon, cuddled in front of the flickering logs and cooed sweet nothings. Or the sort of place for a family holiday—a place where kids could build snowmen in the garden and sleep in that storybook bunk bed.
This must be anathema to Ethan, and yet he’d agreed to remain here. So the least she could do was come up with some conversation. A sideways glance noted that he looked brooding, one hand drumming on his knee almost as if he were waiting for something. Conversation, presumably.
‘So, if you go ahead here would you set up your own ski school, complete with equipment hire and guides? Or use an existing school and arrange for some sort of commission?’
‘They are both options I’ll consider. It depends.’
That seemed to cover that. She reached out for another piece of the spicy gingerbread—oh, so aware of the jiggling of Ethan’s leg, the tap-tap of his foot on the wooden floor. Silence reigned until Ethan put his coffee cup down with a clunk just as a jingling noise came from outside.
Turning, he cleared his throat. ‘Right on time,’ he declared, with a glance at his watch.
‘What is?’
‘Look out of the window.’ Rising, he gave a sudden smile, an odd mix of relief and trepidation in the tipping of his lips.
Despite the temptation to absorb the impact of that smile, she unsnagged her gaze from his mouth, rose to her feet and headed for the expanse of glass.
The breath cascaded from her lungs—outside on the snow-laden road was a horse-drawn carriage. Not any old carriage, either—this one was in the style of a sleigh, complete with large red and black wheels and a fur-hooded roof. The sturdy brown horse was adorned with a festive bridle, resplendent with images of Father Christmas, and a blanket in deep red and green. The driver was bundled in coats and a high fur hat and lifted a hand in greeting.
‘It’s amazing...’ Ruby breathed as she turned to Ethan.
‘I thought you might like it,’ he said, almost abruptly.
‘I don’t just like it. I love it! Thank you.’
For a second that seemed infinite he met her gaze and something flickered in his eyes—only to be doused as he scrubbed a hand over his jaw.
‘I thought it would have mass appeal if I were to offer high-end romantic Christmas breaks in the Alps.’
Wow—he couldn’t have made it clearer that this wasn’t personal. Hurt flashed across her ribcage...until she registered the slight croakiness to his tone, as if he were forcing the words out. She didn’t believe him. Ethan had done this for her—had chosen this particular activity with her in mind—she knew it.
For heaven’s sake.
She had to get a grip. Of course she didn’t know it—it was another case of believing what she wanted to believe. Just as she’d believed her parents would change—had taken any stray kind word and built it up into a pointless dream. Just as she’d trusted that Gary and Steve and Hugh would change for her. Each and every time she had been blind and foolish.
Not any more.
‘Let’s get our coats.’
* * *
Curse words streamed through Ethan’s brain—talk about acting like a class-A schmuck. What was he trying to prove? So what if he had chosen the itinerary with Ruby in mind? The whole point had been to give her a magical Christmas. To palliate the hurt of her Christmases Past—to do for her what she had done for Tara and Max and all those teenagers. There was nothing wrong with that—and yet panic continued to churn in his gut.
Deal with it, Ethan.
Sure, the last time Christmas had been magical for him had been when Tanya was alive. That magic hadn’t stopped his sister from leaving this life scant months later. But that had zip to do with Ruby, and he wouldn’t let his own past ruin this day for her.
‘Wait!’
Ruby swivelled round on one booted foot, her poise back in place, her initial happiness and subsequent hurt both erased.
‘Yes?’
‘I apologise. I’m not good at this whole Christmas scenario, but I don’t want this to be awkward. I want you to enjoy the ride and the itinerary and...’
And he wanted to kiss her so badly his lips tingled and his hands ached with the need to reach out for her. Somehow a kiss would show her what he meant when words seemed to have deserted his tongue...
Somehow he needed to get with it and recall Ethan Caversham, man-in-control, to the building.
‘So how about we get this carriage on the road?’
Her gorgeous lips turned up in a smile so sweet that he knew she had intuitively understood what he meant even if he didn’t.
‘It’s a plan. But first maybe this is the right time for me to give you your Christmas gifts.’
Surprise slammed into him. ‘You bought me gifts?’
‘No need to sound so shocked. Yes, I did. Hang on.’ Anticipation etched her features as she walked over to her case. ‘This one I bought ages ago. I was going to leave it at the castle for you to find. And this one was an impulse buy at the airport.’
‘Thank you.’
In truth he had no idea what to say—he couldn’t remember the last time he had been on the receiving end of a personal gift. His lips twisted in a rueful smile—in a sense he was still on a par with Max and Tara, et al.
Slipping a hand into his pocket, he retrieved his present for Ruby and sudden trepidation shot through his nerves. ‘Here’s yours. Ladies first.’
‘Oh... You didn’t have to. I know you don’t really believe in Christmas.’
Ethan shrugged. ‘I... I thought that...seeing how much effort you put into the teens’ gifts...the least I could do was—’ He broke off. He was doing it again. ‘I wanted to.’
He had wanted Ruby to have a present that someone had thought about. Okay. Make that agonised over. How long had he spent in that stupid jewellery shop? Irritation caused his fingers to drum on his thigh as he felt his heart thud faster—he wanted her to like it way too much.
A yearning to see her eyes light up banded his chest as she carefully unwrapped the green embossed paper, held the dark blue jewellery box and then snapped it open and gasped, her lips forming a perfect O of wonder.
The pendant glittered, diamonds on white gold, shaped into an exquisite simple star. When he’d seen it an image of Ruby as she’d handed him the star to adorn the Christmas tree had popped into his mind.
‘Ethan. I... I...can’t accept this. It’s not right. It’s...’
‘It’s yours.’
Though by ‘not right’ maybe she meant she didn’t like it...
An image of his mother that terrible first Christmas after Tanya’s death flashed across his mind. Her wooden expression as she opened his gifts. The sear of knowledge that he’d got it wrong. That without Tanya he meant nothing to her, couldn’t get it right. All those hours spent agonising for naught.
Maybe he should have learnt—stuck to something generic for Ruby. Better yet, he should have given her a Christmas bonus—a cheque, a banker’s draft. Going personal had been a mistake. Ethan Caversham didn’t do personal.
‘You can exchange it if need be.’
‘Exchange it?’ she echoed. ‘Why would I do that? It’s beautiful. I meant it’s too much.’
‘It’s a gift, Ruby.’ It occurred to him that she was no more used to gifts than he was. ‘I want you to have it.’
‘Then thank you.’
As she took it from the box he thought for an instant that she would ask his help to put it on. Relief warred with disappointment when she lifted it herself—the thought of his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her neck had strummed a jolt of pure desire through him.
‘Now open yours.’
An absurd sense of excitement threaded his gut as he unwrapped the first gift, the bright paper covered in images of Father Christmas bringing a smile to his lips. It was a smile that grew as warmth touched his chest.
In his hands was a painting of Caversham Castle. The artist had captured the sheer brooding history of the craggy mound of medieval stone, imposing and grand, made to defend and dominate the landscape.
‘It’s perfect. Thank you.’
‘Open the next one.’ A small frown creased her forehead. ‘Like I said, this was an impulse buy and if you don’t like it I won’t be offended...’
As he pulled the jumper out of its silver wrapping paper a chuckle fell from his lips. ‘A Christmas jumper.’ A cable knit in dark blue, it was patterned with reindeer. ‘It’s inspired—and what better time to wear it?’
‘You mean it?’
Surprise and a smile illuminated her face, and for one heartbeat full of exhilaration he nearly succumbed to the temptation to sweep her into his arms and kiss her.
No! There was personal and there was personal.
Instead he tugged the jumper over his head ‘Of course. Now, let’s go!’
A few minutes later and they were all layered up. Once outside, Ethan sucked in the cold air; welcomed the hit to his lungs and brain. Perhaps the cold would freeze some sense into him.
