Читать книгу The By Request Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 74

CHAPTER TWELVE

ETHAN COULDN’T TEAR his gaze from her—she was so incredibly beautiful. Her cheeks flushed from the cold, her entire face animated by desire. And, heaven help him, he couldn’t help himself—couldn’t stop himself.

Leaning forward, he covered her lush lips with his own as precipitous need overcame all capacity for thought. It felt so right. He could taste Ruby—the tang of almond with a hint of chocolate. Her lips, cold at first, heated up and she gave a small mewl. The sound triggered a further yearning for more and he pushed his fingers under the hood of her parka, tangled his fingers in the silk of her hair. Her lips parted and her tongue touched his in a tentative flick. And he was lost in a desire to block out the world and kiss her until...

Until what?

The knowledge that the universe could not be ignored was one he carried with him every second of the day; there were always consequences. Problem was at this instant he couldn’t care less—which was dangerous beyond belief. He mustn’t let her close. For both their sakes. Ruby wanted a family and she deserved to have that—she might believe now that she wanted single parenthood, but he hoped that one day she would find love with a man who could give her everything she deserved. Ethan was not that man—and he would not mess with her head.

With a supreme effort of will he pulled back and for a long second they gazed at each other, puffs of breath mingling in the cold.

‘I...’ Her voice trailed off as she lifted her fingers to her lips again. As if they stung in sheer frustration.

Well he could empathise with that. All of him was tingling with spikes of unfulfilled need.

‘I...um...what now?’

‘I don’t know.’

What could he say? There was no point trying to dismiss what had happened. That kiss had been off the Richter scale and it had changed everything. Which was a problem.

‘But I apologise.’ From somewhere he pulled a smile—this Christmas Day would not be ruined by his stupidity. ‘We need to forget that happened. And whilst we try to do that let’s keep sledging.’

Truth be told, he couldn’t think what else to do. The alternative was to hotfoot it back to the chalet and haul her into the bedroom.

A silence, and then she essayed a small, determined nod. ‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘This is such an amazing place to be, and I am having a wonderful Christmas Day, so don’t apologise. We can chalk it up to an inevitable moment of foolishness.’

* * *

To his surprise there was no awkwardness in the next few hours—Ruby took to the snow like the proverbial duck to water, and swerved and dipped and dived over the slopes. They raced each other and laughed over the results, argued with mock ferocity over a handicap system, and sledged until dusk hit.

‘Time for the next stop,’ Ethan said. ‘Gaston should be back with the carriage and then it’s time for Christmas drinks and dinner in town.’

The knowledge was a relief, because despite all his efforts the air still hummed with the undercurrent of attraction and they needed time before they returned to the problematic fairy tale chalet, with its solitude and adjoining bedrooms.

‘Great.’ Ruby clapped her hands together to get rid of the last vestige of snow and leant with natural grace to pick up her toboggan.

The carriage journey into town was silent—but not a silence of an awkward or grim calibre. Ethan would have classed it as one infused with an undercurrent he wasn’t sure he grasped. Every so often Ruby would glance at him with a sideways sweep, her eyes wide in thought as one finger curled a tendril of dark hair that escaped from her red bobble hat.

And then the horse came to a halt and they disembarked into the Christmas card scene of the Alpen town. The atmosphere was lively, and the artful array of high-end shops was combined with an olde-worlde charm.

‘It’s gorgeous...’ Ruby breathed.

As was she.

They walked down the snow-dusted street, illuminated by the glow of lights from the multitude of bars and restaurants and the twinkle of lights that decked the air. Next to him Ruby had subsided back into silence. She broke it with a quick look up at him.

‘Where are we having dinner?’

‘A Michelin-starred restaurant owned by the resort. We’re a bit early, but we can have a drink before.’

‘How about in here?’ she suggested, stopping outside a bar that resembled an old coaching inn.

‘Sure.’

They stepped over the threshold into the warmth of the bar. Chatter in a variety of languages mingled with universal laughter and the chink and rattle of glasses and cutlery. The aroma of fondue and beer was mixed with the tang of snow.

‘What would you like?’

‘A small glass of white wine, please.’ Ruby eyed him with something very near speculation as she tugged her bobble hat off.

‘Coming right up.’ He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the back of a chair whilst she seated herself at the round wooden table. As he headed through the throng to the bar he was aware of her eyes as they followed his progress.

Minutes later he returned and placed her wine and his tankard of beer on the table. He sat down and surveyed her thoughtful expression. Something had shifted and he wasn’t sure what it was. The idea that they were on the brink of new territory sent a conflict of anticipation and panic to his synapses.

Ruby lifted her glass. ‘To us. And how far we’ve come.’

Her words seemed imbued with meaning. The crowd and the hum of conversation seemed to fade, to leave only Ruby and himself. Perhaps he should make a stalwart attempt to pull the conversation round to work, but the idea refused to be translated into words.

The moment they had avoided so dextrously refused to be ignored any longer. That kiss—the mammoth in the room—was sitting right next to them, drink in hand. All he could think about was how her lips had felt, the wonder and the beauty and the sheer pleasure of that kiss. A kiss he’d waited a decade for...the desire he’d run from all those years ago. And now...

Ruby leant forward, her sapphire eyes sparkling as she tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘I’ve been thinking, and I want...’ Her cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink. ‘I want... I want—’ She broke off. ‘Maybe it’s better to start with what I don’t want. I don’t want a relationship with you. I don’t want to climb into your boat or to rock it in any way whatsoever. My goal is adoption, and I will not let anything stand in my way.’

A pause whilst she sipped her drink.

‘But I would like to explore this further. You and me. Just whilst we’re here. Like a bubble of time between our pasts and our futures. I’d like to enjoy the now. With you. A two-night holiday fling. That’s what you normally do, isn’t it?’

No! It was an enormous effort to haul the syllable back. But instinct revolted, because Ethan knew that whatever happened between him and Ruby it didn’t class with his usual liaisons.

‘No.’ The word was gentle. ‘No, Ruby. You are different. If we do this I need you to know that.’

If they did this.

Ethan tried to think—when all he wanted to do was punch the air in triumph, sling Ruby over his shoulder caveman-style and get back to the chalet pronto. But he couldn’t do that. Ruby had thought this through and he needed to do that as well.

Hours before he had ended their kiss because he had believed it was a bad idea—succumbing to emotion and impulse would land him in trouble. Worse, it could land Ruby in trouble, and he wouldn’t let that happen. She’d been messed around enough by the men in her life—he wouldn’t add to that.

‘Ethan, I won’t get hurt.’

Great. Clearly she could read him like a picture book.

‘This is my idea. As soon as we get on the plane back home we revert to normal. Boss and employee. And we throw ourselves into making the ball a success. This will work.’

Her words held conviction and sense. Ruby did not want a relationship with him—she wanted a fling. There would be no further expectation, so he would not be messing with her head. Ruby wanted a family—he didn’t. There could be no future. Her words.

For a scant second a warning bell clanged at the back of his brain—he didn’t want to let Ruby close, remember? But Ethan wasn’t in danger—how could he be? This was a fling—purely physical, no emotions on the table.

‘Let’s do it,’ he said.

* * *

Ruby held her breath, giddy with sheer disbelief—had she really propositioned Ethan Caversham? Yup—she believed she had. For a scant second she wondered if she’d lost her mind. Yet if her sanity had gone walkabout she was in no hurry to get it back. Not when Ethan’s eyes raked over her, glinting with a promise of fulfilment that sent shivers dancing up her spine.

‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘Would you mind skipping dinner? I don’t think I could eat a thing. But if you’re hungry...’

Be quiet, Ruby. Before he changes his mind.

‘I don’t want dinner.’

His voice sent the tingle into acrobatic overdrive and sheer anticipation wobbled her legs as she slipped off the bar stool. As he encased her hand in his she knew her smile rivalled that of a plethora of Cheshire cats. This was all about the moment, and this moment felt fabulous, unrestricted by the past or the future.

Even the wait at the taxi stand, the journey back, felt alight with possibility—and then the magical glow of the chalet welcomed them.

Without releasing her hand Ethan manoeuvred the door open and tugged her straight across the lounge area.

Ruby disengaged her grasp to scramble up the ladder and into the bedroom. Now the reassurance of his touch had gone a sudden shyness threatened, caused her to circumnavigate the bed and approach the window.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention as she sensed his presence behind her, and then his warmth enveloped her. His hands rested on her shoulders and began to knead gently. Tension ebbed away as she gazed out at the garden, where moonbeams danced on the birches and skittered in gleams on the duvet of snow.

Ethan swept her hair from her nape and she gasped as his lips grazed the sensitive flesh. An urge to see him overcame her, and as if he instinctively knew he stepped back and gently turned her to face him.

‘So beautiful...’ he murmured, one thick finger stroking her cheek.

His grey-blue eyes shone in the moon’s illumination, the light played on the planes of his face and emphasised their strength. Her heart melted and ached and she reached up for him, greedy for the devastation of his kiss.

It was a kiss that seemed to take up from where they’d left off—only this time with the knowledge that there was more to come. There was no need to think or analyse or worry, and that added a sharp edge to a desire that dizzied her. Propelled by instinct, she gripped his shoulders and Ethan lifted her effortlessly, so her legs wrapped his waist and his hands cupped her bottom.

He carried her to the bed, their lips still locked, and Ruby moaned as he slid her down the hard length of his body before tumbling her onto the mattress.

* * *

Hours later Ruby opened her eyes, aware of an immense contentment that swathed her limbs in languorous satisfaction. For a long moment she lay and gazed up at the ceiling, cocooned under the weight of Ethan’s arm, his dark brown head next to hers. A gentle shift and she could study his face, bathed in the streaks of dawn that slid through the slats of the shutters. Softer in sleep, yet still his features held a tautness—as if even in slumber he were loath to relinquish complete control.

A qualm tugged at her heart as it hopped, skipped and jumped. But there was nothing to worry about—she had decided that she wanted to grasp this opportunity, to live in the moment and just be herself. Because with Ethan that was who she could be—she’d shared her past and she’d shared her future. Now she wanted this time with him to explore their attraction.

Though somehow the theory no longer seemed so simple. Certain flaws had popped into her mind. These past hours had shown her an attraction that flamed with a heat she hadn’t envisaged. But the fire would burn itself out. Though when fires burnt themselves out didn’t they often leave a whole lot of collateral damage...?

His eyes opened and instantly focused—barely a fraction of a second between oblivion and awareness.

And she doused every qualm as his smile warmed her. She was being daft. They only had a day and a night left. Then it would be over. So what was the point of worry? It was not as if she had any intention of calling a halt to proceedings. Of not experiencing the wonder of the previous hours again...not falling asleep in the safe cocoon of his arms—the idea was unthinkable.

‘Ruby? You okay?’

‘Of course I am.’

Of course she was. Jeez. She really needed to work on her live-in-the-moment technique. The whole point was to enjoy each and every moment of the next twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours. Tick-tock went a metaphorical clock.

Concern lit his eyes and she summoned a smile. ‘Just hungry. Guess it’s time to eat. Not that I have a single regret for missing that Michelin-starred Christmas dinner.’

‘Me neither. Our evening was spent in far more enjoyable ways. But now you mention it I am pretty hungry. I think we need to build up our strength,’ he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows that made a giggle bubble up to the surface.

‘And why would that be, Mr Caversham?’

Leaning over, he nuzzled her ear. ‘In fact, perhaps I could muster up my last reserves of energy right now...’

‘Hmm...’ Desire sizzled through her with intoxicating speed—perhaps enjoying each and every moment would be a cinch after all.

* * *

An hour later he grinned lazily at her. ‘Now would be a good time for breakfast.’

‘How about I whip us up a brunch fondue?’

‘Sounds perfect. I’ll check our Boxing Day itinerary.’

‘Okay. And thank you for a magical Christmas Day—the planned bits and the...the...’ Her cheeks heated up.

‘Impromptu night-time activities?’ he supplied, with a wicked smile that curled her toes.

The morning hours swept by and she could almost see the magical motes of happiness fleck the air. Magic infused them both—brought laughter and warmth, enabled Ethan to dance round the kitchen disco-style whilst she sang along into a wooden spoon in lieu of a microphone.

Even the fondue worked—the mixture of Emmental, Gruyère and Comté provided a tang that burst onto their tastebuds, and the consistency of the bubbling cheese and wine was neither too thick nor too thin. Perfect for dunking cubes of baguette.

‘Ruby, that was awesome. I am truly replete. Why don’t you relax by the fire and I’ll wash up?’

‘You wash. I’ll dry. You did help cook.’

‘That’s a generous interpretation of grating cheese.’

‘You did an excellent job of stirring as well.’

Ruby looked over her shoulder as she carried their plates towards the kitchen area and glanced at the clock. A sudden sense of panic touched her. Tick-tock.

Stop it, Ruby.

This was an interlude—it couldn’t go on for ever and she wouldn’t want it to. Work was way too important, along with her goals and her future life. A future in which Ethan would only feature in a professional sense.

‘Anyway, we’d best get this cleared up quick—the carriage will be back to take us into town for the Boxing Day market, followed by a mountain ascent.’

‘Sounds brilliant.’

Maybe Ethan was right—the key was to keep moving, garner the maximum number of precious memories from this time capsule.

The hustle and bustle of the town square soothed her. It was littered with stalls, and the air was alight with chatter, wafting with a cluster of glorious scents. As she stood and inhaled the tang of gingerbread, the scent of the pine so evocative of the Christmas Day just gone, her qualms faded away along with the concern they had created.

This was all about a magical interlude and for once she was in control. There was no question of delusions or false dreams or hopes. This fling had been her idea, entered into with the knowledge that Ethan wouldn’t change, and she was good with that.

She opened her eyes to find Ethan’s grey-blue eyes fixed on her and she smiled at him, drank in the craggy features, the breadth of his shoulders, his aura of strength. Desire lodged deep in the hollow of her tummy—this freaking gorgeous man was hers. For now... And that was enough. For now she would live in the moment.

‘This is such a wonderful place,’ she said. ‘I’d come on holiday for the market alone.’

The fresh produce was enough to make her tastebuds explode in anticipation. Cheeses abounded, bowls heaped with olives glistened, dried meats and saucissons hung in tempting displays.

‘Shall I buy ingredients for dinner tonight?’ she asked, the words so deliciously intimate. The idea of the evening ahead enticed her: cosy in the chalet, preparing dinner, a glass of wine, music in the background, smooth conversation, the exchange of a kiss here and there...

Purchases made, she espied the Christmas stalls, still piled high with festive adornments. Wooden gifts, bright wrapping paper, carved toys and gaudy sweets. Simple carved Christmas decorations, each one chunky and unique. One of the reindeer looked back at her, its antlers glistening in the afternoon sun.

Surprise laced her as Ethan picked it up and studied it. Then he nodded at the stallholder. ‘I’ll take one of each.’

‘What are you doing? We did Christmas already. Anyway, I thought you weren’t into decorations.’

‘They’re for you. To keep for your perfect Christmas. I know it’ll happen for you.’

Tears prickled the back of her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

A vision strobed in her mind. But it was wrong... Because there was Ethan, standing by a Christmas tree as he helped a small brown-haired boy hang the decorations. Around the other side of a tree a slightly older dark-haired girl was being helped by a teenager to thread a garland of tinsel.

Squeezing her nails into the palms of her hands, she erased the imaginary scene and shoved it firmly into her brain’s ‘Deleted’ file. Time to concentrate on the moment, on the here and now. On the imposing grandeur of Mont Blanc as it towered over the town...on the fact that she was about to ascend a high mountain peak with this gorgeous man.

The stallholder handed her the bag and she smiled. ‘They are perfect. Now, we had better get going—before we miss the ascent.’