by Nina Milne
Her slim shoulders lifted.
‘And I am happy for them. But occasionally I still miss them so much it hurts.’
A solitary tear seeped from her eye and he reached out and caught it on his thumb. The moisture glistened on the pad of his glove and he pulled her into his arms.
‘It’s okay, Ruby. Cry it out.’
Her body tensed and he rubbed her back in a gentle circular motion. Felt her relax as she snuggled into his chest and wept. From somewhere he found soothing words as he rested his cheek on the silkiness of her hair. He realised he couldn’t remember a time when he had done this. Offered comfort. Oh he’d tried with his mother, after Tanya, but she’d pushed him away, her whole body stiff with grief. Her eyes had told him what she had later confirmed in words—the wish that it had been him who had died rather than his sister.
He pushed the thoughts away—right now it was all about Ruby. His past couldn’t be changed or fixed—his mother had no wish to mend fences in any way. Tracey Caversham wouldn’t even take his money, let alone any affection. But he was grateful that Ruby seemed to derive some comfort from his actions.
After a while she placed her palms on his chest and gently pushed herself upright. ‘Phew,’ she said as she looked up at him, tear-swept eyes glistening. ‘I’m sorry. What you said was so beautiful, and suddenly I could see them so vividly. Memories deluged me and turned me into a watering pot.’
‘There’s no need to apologise. At all. I’m glad you told me. Tell me more about them. About Tom, Edie and Philippa.’
So she did, and as she spoke he could visualise the energetic, dark-haired Tom, with his cheeky grin, see the chatterbox Philippa with her blonde ringlets and quiet, straight-haired Edie who sucked her thumb.
When she’d stopped speaking Ruby squeezed his hands. ‘Thank you. Mostly I try to leave the past in the past. But sharing the good memories has made the bad memories easier to bear. I feel lighter. Thank you, Ethan—and I mean that. If you ever want to talk I’m here for you.’
Her words triggered a strange reaction—for a second he allowed himself to ponder that scenario. Tried to picture the concept of sharing. Sharing with Ruby the way his mother’s face had always twisted at the sight of him, the continued rain of comments as to how he reminded her of his dad. How Tanya had shielded him with her love, but how that shield had been tragically removed by her suicide. His terrible grief and its aftermath. How spectacularly he had let his mother down and the devastating consequences.
Discomfort rippled in his gut, along with a healthy dose of denial, and he felt his lips curl with distaste. Not happening. If there was one thing his past had taught him it was the need to control emotion—all the release of it could achieve was pain. If he had only retained control after Tanya’s death then he wouldn’t have walked the road that had led to his mother handing him over to social services. To confide in Ruby would open up an emotional vortex and that was not going to happen.
So... ‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ he said as he pushed her plate towards her. ‘So what now?’
Ruby picked up the almond croissant. ‘I’d like to eat this, and then—if it’s okay with you—I’d still like to sledge.’
‘Then that’s the plan.’
* * *
It truly felt as if a bulk had been hefted from her very soul. The sadness was still there, but more manageable. As they exited the café the snow seemed even brighter, and now the sight of children filled her with a sense of hope and determination. Because one day she would adopt, and she vowed that she would take her children sledging.
A sideways glance at Ethan filled her with relief—his blue-grey eyes rested on her with warmth, but not a hint of pity, and she honoured him for that. For his innate realisation that pity would be anathema to her.
There was a bond between them now—she could see it shimmer in the air between them. They had both pulled themselves from the gutter and survived events that had had the potential to destroy. That was worthy of admiration—not pity. But she knew she felt more than admiration, and she needed to be careful. Because right now that gooey warmth had multiplied, and instead of being mortified at having wept all over him she felt energised...awash with dangerous feelings of intimacy. An intimacy he would abhor.
Sure, he had just proved himself capable of emotional understanding, but his withdrawal at the thought of sharing his own past had been crystal-clear.
She had to rein it in. Her goals and Ethan’s goals were as far apart as it was possible to be. Ethan wanted to sit in his un-rocked boat on his own—he wanted a life alone—and she wanted as many children as she could manage. So her best hope was that she and Ethan could become friends.
Yet right now she wanted more...couldn’t help herself. The tug of attraction, the tug of emotion, the tug towards him in general asserted a magnetism she somehow had to control. Because there couldn’t be anything else, and she couldn’t let herself fall headlong for yet another unsuitable man. Another man who would not or could not change his lifestyle for her.
Instead it would be better to focus on what she could share with Ethan—like this wonderful Christmas Day he had given her. Maybe she needed to focus on a headlong ride on a sledge... A peek down the slope and she felt a surge of anticipation.
‘Take it away, maestro,’ she said.
His smile was the genuine article—it lit his grey-blue eyes and her tummy clenched in response.
‘As you wish,’ he said, and he turned, dropped down onto the disc sledge and launched himself down the slope. Tore down the slope, swerved and manoeuvred, flew over the snow.
Once at the bottom he looked up and gave her the thumbs-up sign before beginning his ascent. She watched him climb back up, legs strong and body lithe. What was it about him that made him stand out? Maybe his aura—one that meant she would be able to spot him anywhere in the world.
‘There—see. Easy.’
Ruby looked down at the toboggan doubtfully. ‘I’m still not convinced I won’t fall off.’
‘It’s all about balance.’
‘Very Zen...’
His chuckle caught on the crisp breeze, and unlocked something inside her. The sight of his smile and the tang of snow made her breath catch, made her heart hop, skip and jump. and she felt her lips tilt into a grin.
‘Zen or not, you are going down that slope, Ruby. We’ll go together. This is one childish dream that you will fulfil. Come on. Sit. I’ll fit in behind you.’
Huh?
She squatted, placed the plastic toboggan on the snow and wriggled on, intensely aware of him as he lowered himself behind her. This was daft—they were both in Eskimo-level layers of clothing on a populated slope—not sunbathing on an isolated beach in bikini and trunks.
Ethan placed one arm round her waist and she swallowed her small gasp. His touch defied physics, felt electric through all the layers.
‘So all you have to do to steer is use this stick on the side, or your hands or feet.’
Was it her imagination or was his voice deeper than normal—the sort of deep that made her think of dark chocolate with a hint of ginger and spicy mulled wine? Panic mixed with a tummy-tingle of need.
Do something, Ruby.
‘Let’s go!’
They took off, skimmed over the snow. Exhilaration heated her veins as she let go, with no time to think or analyse or worry. She existed in the second, fuelled by adrenalin and sheer excitement as the world flew by until they reached the base and glided to a stop.
Pure elation frothed inside her as she shifted to look up at Ethan. ‘That was incredible. Like an out-of-body experience.’
Ruby stared at him. He looked...utterly gorgeous. And in this mood of sheer instinct she knew with a blind, horrible clarity that she wanted him to kiss her. That the tingles that coursed through her body were no longer due to her s
ledging experience. This attraction existed. No—it did more than that. Right now it burned...just like his gaze that was focused on her parted lips.
His pupils darkened; desire flared.
‘Ethan...?’
The question whispered across the snow-tinged air. Her heart pounded in her ribcage as her lips parted and she twisted round, propelled by an instinct older than time, her body no longer at home to the voice of reason.
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 em
otion 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.