by Nina Milne
‘That is hardly a valid argument.’
‘It is extremely valid from my side.’
The air was tinged with exasperation as he folded his arms. ‘That scenario is set in the future. This situation with Hugh is now. He’s threatened you in the past, the man is a liar and a bully, and I don’t see the problem with you accepting some support.’
Oh, crap!
As she stared at him, absorbed the frown that slashed his brow and the determined set of his mouth, drank in his sheer strength, the icy cold fingers of realisation dawned. Seeped into her soul. She knew exactly why this was a problem—she wanted Ethan to come with her. But she wanted his presence because he cared about her as person, not as an employee.
Panic squeezed her chest. She’d fallen for Ethan Caversham. Again. Or maybe she’d never got over him. This stubborn, generous, flawed man had called to something deep within her and her heart had responded without her permission.
She wanted him in her present and in her future.
Shock doused her veins, made her skin clammy. How had this happened? Ethan would never want a family. Would never change from being the workaholic, driven man he was. So why was her heart—the self-same heart that wasn’t supposed to be involved—aching with a deep, bitter sting?
His frown deepened as he studied her expression and she desperately tried to think—tried to work out what to do with this awful, awesome knowledge.
Nothing. That was what she should do.
Ethan had made it more than clear that he had negative desire for a relationship, let alone a family. It wasn’t his fault she’d been stupid enough to fall for him. If she told him how she felt he would recoil, and she wasn’t sure she could bear that. Let alone the fact that it would make any work relationship impossible.
Maybe that would be impossible anyway. Maybe her best course of action would be to leave. Otherwise she would have to spend her life erecting a façade of lies, playing a part, watching him from afar, living in hope that one day he’d return her love. The idea made her tummy churn in revolt. It would be a replay of her childhood.
‘Ruby?’ There was concern in his voice now, as well as an assessing look in his blue-grey eyes that indicated the whirring of his formidable brain.
With an effort she recalled their conversation. ‘Ethan, I need to do this by myself. Plus, tomorrow night is too important to blow—too important for kids like Tara and Max. You need to be here to supervise any last-minute glitches.’
He shook his head. ‘Cora can cover that. So can Rafael.’
Somehow she had to dissuade him—all she wanted to do now was run. Achieve some space. Get her head together. Enough that she could hold the façade together for a while longer until she could find him a replacement restaurant manager.
‘No. Cora and Rafael are great, but you need to be here. This is your show.’ For a heartbeat she felt the sudden scratch of tears—this would be one of the last times they were together, and emotion bubbled inside her. ‘You’re doing such good here.’
Instinct carried her forward, so close to him that she could smell the oh-so-familiar, oh-so-dizzying woodsy scent of him. One hand reached out and lay on his forearm as she gazed up at him, allowed herself one last touch.
‘Don’t.’ His voice low and guttural.
‘Don’t what? Tell the truth?’
He shook his head, stepped back so that her hand dropped to her side. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Don’t make me a hero. Because I’m not.’
‘I didn’t say you were a hero. But you are a good man, and you do so much good. Why won’t you acknowledge that and accept something good in your life.’
What was she doing? The sane course of action would be to get out of there at speed, but some small unfurling of hope kept her feet adhered to the floor.
‘Whatever you did in the past can’t change that.’
‘You don’t know about my past, Ruby.’
‘Then tell me.’
For a long moment he looked deep into her eyes, and for a second she feared that he could read her thoughts, her emotions, could see the love that she was so desperately trying to veil.
His gaze didn’t falter, though the clench of his jaw and the taut stance of his body betrayed his tension.
‘I told you that even before Tanya died I was beginning to go off the rails—I’d bunk off school every so often... I’d taken up smoking, graffitied the odd wall. But after she died I was so angry; I wanted vengeance on those bullies who’d made her last months on this earth a torment. But what could I do? I couldn’t take them all on myself—they were a group, part of one of the most intimidating gangs on the estate. Mum was falling apart, and I was full of frustration and rage.’
Her lungs constricted as she imagined how the teenaged Ethan must have felt. So helpless, so alone. With a mother prostrate with grief and the sister he’d looked up to driven to take her own life.
‘So it all went downhill. School became ancient history. I took up petty crime—shoplifting. I got into fights. I did dope... I drank. I swaggered around the estate like an idiot. I became everything Tanya would have abhorred.’
‘Tanya would have understood. You were a child full of anger, pain and grief. Didn’t your mum do anything?’
‘She was too immersed in grief to notice.’
There was no rancour to be heard, but it seemed to Ruby that everything he had done must have been in an effort to make his mum notice—step in, do something. She couldn’t bear the fact that he’d judged himself so harshly—that he couldn’t see the plethora of mitigation around his actions.
‘God knows what might have happened, but finally I got caught stealing from one of the high-street clothes stores. I went nuts—went up against the security officer. I lost it completely and they called in the cops. I was arrested, taken down to the police station, and they contacted my mother.’
‘What happened?’
‘As far as she was concerned it proved I’d morphed into my father. Reinforced her fear that history would repeat.’
‘But...but she must have seen that this was different?’
His silence was ample testament to the fact that she hadn’t, and the dark shadow in his eyes was further proof that neither had he. Foreboding rippled through her. ‘What did she do?’
‘Packed my stuff and handed me over to social services.’
Words failed her as anger and compassion intertwined—no wonder Ethan had judged himself as guilty when his own mother had disowned him.
‘Hey. Don’t look like that. For Mum the loss of Tanya was more than a tragedy—it was innately wrong. It should have been me.’
‘Did she say that?’
‘Yes.’
The syllable was spoken as if it was to be expected and Ruby’s heart tore.
‘I get that. She had a point.’
‘No, she did not!’ The words were a shout, but she couldn’t help it.
‘I let her down, Ruby. It is as simple as that. No one made me act that way.’
‘You were her son, Ethan—her child. You were acting out of your own grief and anger.’
Ruby clenched her fists. Why was he being so obdurate? But, of course, she knew the answer. Hope. Why had she persisted in believing in her own parents, long after they had proved they would never change? Same answer. Hope.
‘Have you seen your mum since?’
‘No. She is still on the estate, and every year I send her a cheque and a letter. Every year she doesn’t bank the cheque and she doesn’t answer the letter.’
The unfairness, the tragedy of it, banded her chest. ‘I understand that your mother had her own issues, but they were her issues. Would you ever do to a child what she did to you?’
Something flashed across his eyes and then he rubbed his hand down his face,
made a derisive sound in his throat. ‘Jeez. Let’s end this conversation. Okay? I’ve come to terms with it all and it’s no—’
‘If you say it’s no big deal I’ll scream. It’s a huge deal. You told me to fight for justice, that right and wrong matter. This matters, and this is injustice. Ethan, you told me you thought I would be a good parent.’
‘You will be.’
‘Well, a social worker told me once that damaged children like me repeat their parents’ mistakes. I don’t believe that has to be true and neither do you. That’s why you want to help kids like Max and Tara—because you believe they deserve a chance. So do you.’ Ruby hauled in breath. ‘You have judged yourself and you’ve judged wrong. Whether your mum can see it or not, you’re a good man, Ethan Caversham.’
For a second she thought she’d made some sort of impact, but then his broad shoulders lifted.
‘Sure, Ruby. Whatever you want. I’m a good man.’
The self-mockery evident.
‘You are. And you deserve love. Real, proper love.’
It all seemed so clear to her now—exactly why Ethan had his heart under such a guard, his emotions in lockdown. The only person who had loved him was the sister he felt he had let down—a sister he had lost so tragically. The mother who should have loved him had condemned him from birth.
‘You do not have to be alone in that boat, Ethan. All family relationships do not have to end in tragedy. Love doesn’t always have to go wrong.’
Discomfort etched his face, was clear in his stance as he rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. ‘Leave it, Ruby.’
‘I can’t. You deserve love.’ How could she make him see that? ‘For what it’s worth, I love you.’
His face was leached of colour; blue-grey eyes burned with a light she couldn’t interpret. Eventually he stepped back.
‘It’s not love. It’s what you felt for Hugh, for Steve, for Gary. You said it yourself—you’re not a good judge of character.’
‘Ouch. That is below the belt.’
‘No, it isn’t. You don’t love me—you want to heal me because you see me as broken. And I don’t need to be healed. As for deserving love—that is irrelevant. I don’t want love; I don’t need love. I have come to terms with my past and I am moving forward. I’m not going to change. Any more than Gary, Steve or Hugh. So please don’t waste your time thinking you love me. Find someone who will be good for you and to you. Someone who will father your children, whichever way you choose to have them. That man isn’t me.’
The words were so final, so heavy, that she could feel her heart crack.
‘Then I’d best get to London.’
What else was there to say?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE CLICK OF the door unglued Ethan’s feet from the floor, sent him striding forward, her name on his lips. Only to stop. What was he doing? He’d rejected her love so why was he following her? To do what?
His gut churned. He didn’t want to hurt Ruby—hadn’t wanted to a decade ago and didn’t want to now. Somehow he had to make her see that he was right—she did not love him, whatever she believed. All he needed to do was convince her of that.
Maybe she’d work it out herself. See that every word he’d said was the truth. The past was over and he had come to terms with it. Had worked out that the best way forward was to move on, to channel his anger into becoming a success and using that success to help others. That worked for him—he didn’t need love or a family. Didn’t want love.
So why did he sound as if he was trying to convince himself?
The door swung open and Ethan swivelled round, his heart hammering in irrational hope that she had come back. Instead he saw Rafael Martinez, his expression creased in a small puzzled frown. ‘A red-haired woman brought me here. Who is she?’
Pull it together, Ethan.
‘Cora Brookes. My new hotel administrator.’
‘I see.’ Rafael frowned and rubbed his jaw. ‘I had the distinct impression that Cora Brookes doesn’t like me. She walked me here at the rate of knots and avoided all eye contact. Yet she looks familiar. Anyway it doesn’t matter. I’m here, and ready to auction like a pro tomorrow. I also have a business proposition I want to discuss with you. But you look as though business is the last thing on your mind.’
He needed to get it together. This was Rafael Martinez and this was business.
‘I’m fine. Happy to talk business. Why don’t we go to my office?’
Get away from this banqueting hall with all its memories of Ruby.
Rafael’s dark eyes surveyed him with what looked like amusement. ‘And how is the lovely Ruby Hampton?’
‘Fine.’ If Rafael was about to show even the most tepid interest in Ruby, Ethan had every intention of ramming his teeth down his throat. Business or no business. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Whoa!’ Rafael lifted his hands in the air. ‘I was just curious. I get that she is off-limits.’
‘Yes, she is.’
Rafael’s eyebrows rose. ‘Well, if you have an interest there you should know she has left the castle at speed—with a suitcase.’
Ethan paused as his brain attempted to compute the situation. Why would Ruby have taken a suitcase when she planned to return the same day? Unless she’d figured the journey there and back was too far? Needed some space? That must be it. Yet panic whispered in his gut.
There was a knock at the door and Cora entered, glanced at Rafael and then away again. ‘Ethan. I’m not sure if I should mention this or not, but Ruby seemed upset and I’m not sure she’s coming back.’
‘What do you mean? It’s the ball tomorrow.’
‘I know.’ Cora hesitated. ‘It’s just... She gave me the whole breakdown of the event in intricate detail—as if it was possible that she wouldn’t be here. I mean...to be honest I can cover the admin side, because you and Ruby have planned it all down to the last detail. But I can’t meet and greet or mingle with the guests. We agreed that.’
Her even voice held the hint of a quaver as her turquoise eyes met his and Ethan nodded. She was right. They had.
As if aware of Rafael’s gaze as he studied her expression, Cora shifted so her back was to him. ‘And, more importantly, as Ruby put all the work in I think she should be here to see the success I am sure it will be. I thought you should know.’
Ethan hauled in breath, tried to think.
Of course Ruby wouldn’t leave.
You sure, Ethan?
The truth was the ball could go ahead without her and she knew it. It could be she was running—exactly as he had a decade ago. The irony was more than apparent.
Images of Ruby filtered through his brain. Her elfin features illuminated by enthusiasm, haunted by sadness, etched with compassion, lit up by desire. The gurgle of her laugh, the beauty of her smile... The idea of losing her, the idea that she might not return, sent a searing pain to his very soul.
Alongside that was fear...the terror of what it would feel like to let go, to allow his emotions full rein. Fear that he would somehow let Ruby down. If he allowed love to take hold he would screw it up, not be the man she deserved. That added up to a whole lot of scared.
The question now was what was he going to do about it?
* * *
Ruby approached the swish London hotel—the very same one where she had discovered Hugh’s infidelity and perfidy in a double whammy. For a scant second she wondered why the idea of facing Hugh now didn’t have the power to intimidate her. Possibly because she felt numb—had felt a cold, clammy sense of ‘ugh’ since she’d filled her suitcase and fled Caversham Castle.
Right now all she wanted was to get this over with, because she didn’t want Portia to go through the same pain and disillusionment. In addition, it was about time she stood up to Hugh Farlane.
‘Come with me,’ he said, his eyes roving the area. ‘We don’t want any bad publicity.’
‘Hi, Greg. Good to see you again. Thanks for arranging this.’
The young man flushed. ‘Sorry. It’s good to see you too. But Hugh is very emphatic that I get you up there fast.’
‘So he hasn’t decided how to spin it yet?’
Greg declined to answer, shifting from foot to foot in an agony of discomfort, and then hustled her to the lift.
Once inside the sleek metal box, she felt a sliver of worry permeate the anaesthetic of hurt. Hugh Farlane had the power to crush her like an insignificant bug, and she didn’t have Ethan’s protection to fall back on now. In her own mind at least she was no longer a Caversham employee.
The irony was that she’d come full circle.
No! Not true. Weeks before she hadn’t had the courage to stand up to Hugh. Now she did. In the past weeks she’d learned so much—on a professional and a personal level.
Before, the thought of any contact with her siblings had been an impossibility—now the idea seemed feasible. Because Ethan had shown her a new perspective. Somehow he had shown her her own inner strength. Which was a further irony. Because now she would have need of that strength to get over Ethan.
Not now. Put the pain aside and channel that inner power.
Her vertebrae clicked as she straightened up. The lift doors swooshed open and she stepped forward and followed Greg along the plushly carpeted floor to the ornate door of the penthouse suite.
‘Good luck,’ Greg murmured as he knocked and then faded discreetly away.
The click as the door swung open set her heart pounding but she managed a smile.
‘Ruby...’ Hugh stepped forward, the familiar smile full of charm on his lips. ‘Great to see you. Come right on in.’