Snowkissed: Christmas Kisses with Her Boss / Proposal at the Winter Ball / The Prince's Christmas Vow

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.’

CHAPTER FIVE

ETHAN RESISTED THE urge to loosen his collar as he waited in front of the limo outside the castle’s grand entrance. This strange fizz of anticipation in his gut was not acceptable—not something he’d experienced before, and not something he wanted to experience again.

Fact One: this was not a date. A whoosh of irritation escaped his lips that he needed a reminder of the obvious. The word date was not in Ethan Caversham’s dictionary.

Fact Two: Ruby was an employee and this was a business dinner, to give her a guest’s viewpoint and to show her—an employee—his appreciation of a job well done. Perhaps if he stressed the word employee enough his body and mind would grasp the concept...

Fact Three: yes, they had a shared past—but that past consisted of a brief snapshot in time, and that tiny percentage of time was not relevant to the present.

So... Those were the facts and now he was sorted. De-fizzed. Ethan Caversham was back in control.

A minute later the front door opened and every bit of his control was blown sky-high, splattering him with the smithereens of perspective. Moisture sheened his neck as he slammed his hands into his pockets and forced himself not to rock back on his heels.

Ruby looked sensational, and all his senses reeled in response. Her glorious dark hair tumbled loose in glossy ripples over the creamy bare skin of her shoulders. The black lacy bodice of her dress tantalised his vision. A wide black band emphasised the slender curve of her waist and the dress was ruched into a fun, flirty skirt that showcased the length of her legs.

But what robbed his lungs of breath was the expression on her face and the very slight question in her sapphire eyes. That hint of masked vulnerability smote him with a direct jab to the chest.

‘You look stunning.’

‘Thank you.’ Her chin angled in defiance. ‘I decided that if people are going to stare I’d better scrub up.’

‘You scrub up well.’

With a gargantuan effort he kept his tone light, pushed away the urge to pull her into his arms and show her how well, to try to soothe the apprehension that pulsed from her.

‘Your limo awaits.’

‘You didn’t need to hire a limo.’

‘I wanted to. We’re celebrating, and I want to do this in style—tonight I want you to enjoy the experience of being a guest.’

To make up in some small way for what Hugh had put her through. All those high society occasions where he’d groomed her to act a part she’d disliked. Sheer anger at the actor’s behaviour still fuelled Ethan—to have messed with Ruby’s head like that was unforgivable. So tonight it was all about Ruby. As his employee. His temple pounded a warning—perspective needed to be retained.

‘So that you can use the experience to help you at Caversham Castle. Speaking of which... I’ve issued a press statement.’

‘Good idea.’ The words were alight with false brightness as she slid into the limousine. Waited for him to join her in sleek leather luxury. ‘What did it say?’

‘“Ethan Caversham is pleased to announce the appointment of a restaurant manager for his new project, Caversham Castle in Cornwall. Ruby Hampton has taken on the role, and both Ethan and Ruby are excited at the prospect of creating a restaurant that sparkles with all the usual Caversham glitter and offers a dining experience to savour.”’

‘Sounds good.’

After that, silence fell, and Ethan forced his gaze away from her beauty and instead gazed out at the scenery. A quick glance at Ruby saw her doing the same. There was tension in the taut stance of her body and in the twisting of her hands in her lap.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Sure.’ The word was too swift, the smile too bright.

‘It’s all right to be nervous. You’ve been in hiding for weeks.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ Slim bare shoulders lifted. ‘I just loathe being gawped at. You know...? Plus, you do realise there is every chance people will chuck bread rolls at me, or worse?’

‘Not on my watch,’ he said as the limo glided to a stop. ‘But if they do we’ll face it together.’ The words were all wrong. ‘As employer and employee—colleagues...professionals.’ Okay... Now he was overcompensating. ‘You can do this, Ruby.’

A small determined nod was her response as the car door was opened by the driver. Ethan slid along the leather seat and stepped out, waited as Ruby followed suit. Before she could so much as step from the car a bevy of reporters flocked around them. Quelling the urge to actually move closer to her, Ethan turned to face them, angled his body to shield Ruby.

‘So, Ruby, have you decided to break your silence about Hugh Farlane?’

‘Ethan, is it true that you’ve hired Ruby, or is this something more personal?’

Ethan raised his hands. ‘Easy, guys. Give Ruby some space, please. We get that you’re pleased to see her, but she needs to breathe. I need my new restaurant manager to be fully functional.’

Next to him, he sensed the shudder of tension ripple through her body, heard her inhalation of breath—and then she stepped forward.

‘Hey, guys. I’m happy to chat about my new role—which I am very excited about as the next step in my career—but I have nothing to say about Hugh.’

His chest warmed with admiration at the cool confidence of her tone and the poise she generated.

‘That’s old news,’ he interpolated. ‘Our concern is with the future and with Caversham’s new venture. Ruby is already doing an amazing job, and I’m looking forward to continuing to work with her.’

‘Best keep an eye on your wallet, then, Ethan!’

‘What about you, Ruby? Is this a new game plan? To get your mitts on Ethan and the Caversham bank balance?’

She flinched, and Ethan swivelled with lethal speed, the urge to lash out contained and leashed, his tone smooth as ice.

‘My wallet is perfectly safe, but many thanks for your concern. I have no doubt that Ruby has the same game plan as me. Right now I’m concentrating on the grand opening of Caversham Castle—the guest list is shaping up nicely. My plan is to grant exclusive coverage to a magazine—though I haven’t decided who yet. Perhaps we’ll discuss it over dinner.’

The implication was clear. Drop the gold-digger angle and you might be in with a chance.

The reporters dispersed, oiled away with ingratiating smiles, and satisfaction touched him. They would stop ripping Ruby to shreds, Hugh Farlane would in turn back off, public interest would die down and the bullies and the nutcases would retreat.

His aim was achieved—his anger channelled to achieve the desired result. Control was key—emotions needed to be ruled and used. When you let your emotions rule you then you lost control. And Ethan was never walking that road again.

Without thought he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her forward and then wished he hadn’t. Too close, too much—a reminder that the physical awareness hadn’t diminished.

It was with relief that he entered the warmth of the restaurant and Ruby stepped away from him. Her face flushed as her gaze skittered away from his and she looked around.

‘Wow!’

‘Tony Pugliano is a fan of Christmas,’ Ethan said.

The whole restaurant was a dazzling testament to that. The winter grotto theme was delicate, yet pervasive. Lights like icicles glittered from the ceiling and a suspended ice sculpture captured the eye. Windows and mirrors were frosted, and each table displayed scented star-shaped candles that filled the room with the elusive scent of Christmas.

‘It’s beautiful...’ Ruby breathed.

‘You like it?’ boomed a voice.

Ethan dragged his gaze from Ruby’s rapt features to see Tony Pugliano crossing the floor towards them.

‘Ethan.’ Tony pulled him into a bear hug and slapped his back. ‘This is fabulous, no? Welcome to my winter palace. Ruby—it’s good to see you.’

‘You too—and it’s glorious, Tony.’

The grizzled Italian beamed. ‘And now, for you, I have reserved the best table—you will be private, and yet you will appreciate every bit of the restaurant’s atmosphere. Anything you want you must ask and it is yours, my friends.’

‘Thank you, Tony. We appreciate it.’

‘We really do,’ Ruby said as they followed in Tony’s expansive wake to a table that outdid all the other tables in the vicinity.

Crystal glasses seized the light and glittered from each angled facet, a plethora of star candles dotted the table, and the gleam of moisture sheened the champagne already in an ice bucket.

‘Sit, sit...’ Tony said. ‘I have, for you, chosen the best—the very best of our menu. You need not even have to think—you can simply enjoy.’

* * *

Ruby watched his departing back and opened her mouth, closed it again as a waiter glided towards them, poured the champagne and reverently placed a plate of canapés in front of them.

‘Made by Signor Pugliano himself. There is arancini di riso filled with smoked mozzarella cheese, radicchio ravioli, bresaola and pecorino crostini drizzled with truffle oil, and Jerusalem artichokes with chestnut velouté, perfumed with white truffle oil.’

‘That sounds marvellous,’ Ruby managed.

Once the waiter had gone she met Ethan’s gaze, clocked his smile and forced her toes to remain uncurled. It was a smile—nothing more.

‘This is almost as miraculous as what I just witnessed. I am considering how to lift my jaw from my knees.’ She shook her head. ‘Tony Pugliano is renowned as one of the toughest, most brusque, most temperamental chefs in the country and round you he’s turned into some sort of pussycat. How? Why? What gives?’

His smile morphed into a grin. ‘It’s my famous charm.’

‘Rubbish.’ However charming Ethan was—and that was a point she had no wish to dwell on—it wouldn’t affect Tony Pugliano. ‘Plus, I know Hugh eats here, so I’m amazed he seemed so happy to see me.’

‘You are underrating my charm capacity,’ Ethan said.

Picking up a canapé, she narrowed her eyes. Nope—she wasn’t buying it. This was zip to do with charm, but clearly Ethan had no intention of sharing. No surprise there, then.

‘Especially given his less than accommodating attitude when I applied for a job here after my break-up with Hugh. Whereas now, if you asked him to, he’d probably give me any job I asked for.’ Seeing his eyebrows rise she shook her head. ‘Not that I want you to do that!’

‘You sure?’ There was an edge to his voice under the light banter.

Disbelief and hurt mingled. Surely Ethan couldn’t possibly think she would go after another job. ‘I am one hundred per cent sure. You gave me a chance when no one else would give me the opportunity to wash so much as a dish. So you get one hundred per cent loyalty.’

‘I appreciate that.’

Yet the flatness of his tone was in direct variance to the fizz of champagne on her tongue. ‘Ethan. I mean it.’

His broad shoulders lifted and for a second the resultant ripple of muscle distracted her. But only for a heartbeat.

‘There isn’t such a thing as one hundred per cent loyalty. Everyone has a price or a boundary that dissolves loyalty.’

The edge of bitterness caught at her. Had someone let him down? All of a sudden it became imperative that he believed in her.

‘Well, I don’t. You’re stuck with me for the duration.’

His large hand cradled his glass, set the light amber liquid swirling. ‘If you had an opportunity to have a family then your loyalty might lose some percentage points. Likewise if I stopped paying your salary your allegiance would be forfeit.’ He pierced a raviolo. ‘That’s life, Ruby. No big deal.’

‘It is a huge deal—and I think I need to make something clear. I do want children, but that does not take precedence above this job. Right now my top priority is to see Caversham Castle firmly ensconced as the lodestar of Caversham Holiday Adventures. I have no intention of starting a family until I am financially secure, with a house, savings in the bank and the ability to support one. But even if I won the Lottery I would not let you down. As for you not paying me—I know you would only do that in a crisis. I would always believe that you’d turn that crisis around, so you’d still have my loyalty.’

Ethan didn’t look even remotely moved—it was as if her words had slid off his smooth armour of cynicism.

Dipping a succulent morsel of artichoke into the chestnut velouté, she savoured the taste, wondered how else she could persuade him. She looked up and encountered an ironic glint in his eyes.