Christmas Kisses With Her Boss

Whilst he figured out the best way to approach Rafael with his proposition... Rafael Martinez was known more for his playboy tendencies and utterly ruthless business tactics than his philanthropic traits. But Ethan had been upfront in his preliminary approach—had intimated that his agenda was a business deal with a charitable bent—and Rafael had agreed to meet. Somehow it seemed unlikely that he’d done so to reminisce over the bad old days of their more than misguided youth.

He’d reached the doorway when he heard Ruby’s voice. ‘Actually... I’ve had an idea...’

Ethan turned. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Okay. So it’s best if you eat in the bar—it’s a pretty impressive room, and I think we should make it a little bit Christmassy.’

‘Christmassy?’ Somehow the idea of Christmas and Rafael didn’t exactly gel. ‘I don’t think so, Ruby. My guess is that Rafael is even less enamoured with the schmaltz of Christmas than me.’

A shake of her dark head and an exaggerated sigh. ‘I’m not suggesting schmaltz. If we were open we would be playing the Christmas card—of course we would.’ For a second a hint of wistfulness touched her face. ‘Can’t you picture it? An enormous tree. Garlands. Twinkling lights—’ She broke off and frowned. ‘I assume all your other business ventures offer Christmas deals and a proper Christmas ambience?’

‘Yes, but I don’t do it myself.’

He wouldn’t have the first clue how—he hadn’t celebrated Christmas Day in the traditional sense since...since Tanya was alive.

For a second he was transported back to childhood. His sister had loved Christmas...had made it magical—she had made him help her make paper chains and decorate the tree, and although he’d protested they’d both known the protest to be half-hearted. She’d chivvied their mum into the festive spirit and the day had always been happy. But after Tanya... Well, best not to go there.

‘To be honest, I’m not much of a Christmas type of guy. And I’m pretty sure Rafael isn’t either.’

‘Well, luckily for you I’m a Christmas type of gal. I’m thinking a tasteful acknowledgement of the time of year so that Rafael Martinez gets an idea of how Caversham Castle would showcase his wine. The Martinez Vineyards offer plenty of Christmas wines. Plus, if we do it right the whole Christmas edge might soften him up.’

Difficult to imagine, but given he hoped to appeal to Rafael’s charitable side maybe it was worth a shot. And he believed in encouraging staff initiative and drive.

‘Knock yourself out,’ he said.

‘Fabulous. I’ll hit the shops.’

* * *

Ruby crouched down and carefully moved the small potted tree a couple of centimetres to the left of the hearth. She inhaled the scent of fir and soil and felt a small glow of satisfaction at a job well done. Or at least she thought so—Ethan clearly had reservations about the whole Christmas idea, and her research into Rafael Martinez had shown her why.

Like Ethan Caversham, he had a reputation for ruthlessness, and an internet trawl had revealed images of a man with a dark aura. Midnight hair, tall, with a dominant nose and deep black eyes. Unlike Ethan, he’d left a score of girlfriends in his wake—all glamorous, gorgeous and very, very temporary. For a second Ruby dwelled on Ethan, and curiosity about his love-life bubbled. But it was none of her business.

He’s your boss, nothing more.

‘Hey.’

Ruby leapt up and swivelled round. Chill, Ruby. Ethan was many things, but he was not a mind-reader.

‘Hey. Sorry. You startled me.’ She gestured around. ‘What do you think? I was just making sure the trees don’t overshadow Dash and Dot.’

‘Dash and Dot?’

Ruby chewed her bottom lip. Idiot.

Ethan’s lips turned up in a sudden small smile and her toes curled. For a second he’d looked way younger, and she could remember her flash of gratification at winning a rare smile all those years ago.

‘You named the china dogs?’

‘Yes. In my head. I have to admit I didn’t intend to share that fact with anyone. But, yes, I did. Queen Victoria had a spaniel called Dash, you see.’ Ruby puffed out a sigh. ‘And then I thought of Dot because of Morse code. Anyway, what do you think?’

‘Excellent names,’ he said, his features schooled to gravity, though amusement glinted in his eyes.

Ruby couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the clawing worry that he’d loathe what she’d done. ‘I meant the decorations.’

Hope that he’d approve mixed with annoyance at her need for approval. A hangover from childhood, when approval had been at high premium and in short supply.

Surely he had to like it? Her gaze swept over the small potted trees on either side of the fireplace and the wreath hanging above. Took in the lightly scented candles on the mantelpiece and the backdrop of tasteful branch lights casting a festive hint.

‘It’s incredible.’

‘No need to sound surprised.’ Sheer relief curved her lips into a no doubt goofy grin. ‘Admit it. You thought I would produce something ghastly and flashy.’

‘I should have had more faith.’

‘Absolutely. Don’t get me wrong, I can do tacky schmaltz—in fact I have done. A few years back I worked in a café called Yvette’s. Yvette herself was lovely, but she was incredibly sentimental. On Valentine’s Day you could barely move for helium-filled heart balloons, and as for Christmas... I provided gaudy tinsel, baubles, mistletoe—and this absolutely incredibly tacky light-up Father Christmas that had to be seen to be believed.’

Ethan glanced at her. ‘You’re a woman of many talents. But what about you? What kind of Christmas is your kind?’

The question caught her off guard and without permission her brain conjured up her game plan Christmas. ‘Me? Um... Well... I’ve spent every Christmas working for the past decade, so I go with my employers’ flow.’

‘So it’s just another day for you? You said you were a Christmas kind of gal.’

‘I am.’ His words pushed all her buttons and she twisted to face him. ‘It’s a time of celebration. I’m not overly religious, but I do believe it is way more than just another day. It’s a time for giving—a magical day.’

His lips were a straight line as he contemplated her words. ‘Giving, yes. Magic, no. That’s idealistic. Christmas Day doesn’t magically put an end to poverty or disease or crime.’

‘No, it doesn’t. But it is an opportunity to strive for a ceasefire—to try and alleviate sadness and spread some happiness and cheer. Don’t you believe that?’

He hesitated, opened his mouth and then closed it again. Waited a beat and then, ‘Yes, Ruby. I do believe that.’

‘Good. It’s also about being with the people you care about and...’

The familiar tug of loss thudded behind her ribcage...the wondering as to the whereabouts of her siblings, the hope that their Christmas would be a joyful one. It would. Of course it would. They had a loving adoptive family, and the thought encased her in a genuine blanket of happiness.

Seeing Ethan’s blue-grey eyes resting on her expression, she went on. ‘And if you can’t do that then I think it’s still wonderful to be part of someone else’s happiness. That’s why I’ve always worked Christmas Day; watching other families celebrate is enough for now.’

‘For now?’

‘Sure.’ Keep it light. ‘One day I’ll have a family, and then...’

‘Then all will be well in the world?’ His scathing tone shocked her.

‘Yes.’ The affirmation fell from her lips with way too much emphasis. ‘And when I have a family I can tell you the exact Christmas I’ll have. An enormous tree, the scent of pine, crackers, decorated walls, holly, ivy, stockings with a candy cane peering over the top. The table laid with cutlery that gleams in the twinkle of Christmas lights. In the centre a golden turkey and all the extras. Pigs in blankets, roast potatoes, roast parsnips, stuffing and lashings of gravy. But most important of all there’ll be children. My family. Because that is what Christmas is about. And that is magical.’

Ruby hauled in breath as realisation dawned that she might have got a tad carried away.

‘Anyway, obviously that is in the far distant future and not something I need to worry about right now.’

It would take time to save enough money to support a family—time to go through the lengthy adoption process.

‘No, it isn’t.’ Ethan’s voice was neutral now, his eyes hooded. ‘And now isn’t the time to dream of future Christmases.’

‘It’s not a dream. It’s a goal. That’s different.’

Dreams were insubstantial clouds—stupid aspirations that might never be attained. Goals—goals were different. Goals were definitive. And Ruby was definite that she would have a family. By hook or by crook.

‘But you’re right. I need to be in the kitchen—or you and Rafael will be eating candle wax for dinner.’

‘Hang on.’ His forehead was slashed with a deep frown. ‘I meant now is the time to think about present-day Christmas. What are your plans for this year?’

His voice had a rough edge of concern to it and Ruby frowned. The last thing she wanted was for Ethan Caversham to feel sorry for her—the idea was insupportable.

‘I’ll be fine. I have plans.’

Sure. Her plan was to shut herself away in her apartment and watch weepy movies with a vat of ice cream. But that counted as a plan, right? It wasn’t even that she was mourning Hugh—she was bereft at the loss of a dream. Because for all her lofty words she had been stupid enough to take her eye off the goal and allow herself to dream. And Hugh had crushed that dream and trampled it into the dust. Further proof—as if she’d needed it—that dreams were for idiots. Lesson learnt. Again. But this time reinforced in steel.

‘But thank you for asking.’

Ethan’s eyes bored into her and the conviction that he would ask her to expand on the exact nature of her plans opened her lips in pre-emptive strike.

‘What about your plans?’

His expression retreated to neutral. ‘They aren’t firmed up as yet.’

Obscure irrational hurt touched her that he didn’t feel able to share his plans with her. Daft! After all, it wasn’t as if she was sharing hers with him.

‘Well, I hope they sort themselves out. Right now I must go and cook. Prepare to be amazed!’

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.