Christmas Kisses With Her Boss. Nina Milne
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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 at the fact that he needed a reminder of the obvious. Date? The word was not in his dictionary.
Fact Two: Ruby was an employee and this was a business dinner in order 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.
Ruby looked sensational, and all his senses reeled in response. But what robbed his lungs of breath was the expression on her face and the very slight question in her sapphire eyes. That damned hint of masked vulnerability smote him with a direct jab to the chest.
Christmas Kisses with Her Boss
Nina Milne
www.millsandboon.co.uk
NINA MILNE has always dreamed of writing for Mills & Boon—ever since as a child she played library with her mother’s stacks of Mills & Boon romances. On her way to this dream Nina acquired an English degree, a hero of her own, three gorgeous children and (somehow) an accountancy qualification. She lives in Brighton and has filled her house with stacks of books—her very own real library.
This one is for my dad, because I always remember
him at Christmas and always lift a glass to his memory.
Contents
LOITER. SKULK. PANIC. Who knew it was possible to do all three at once? Ruby Hampton shoved her hands into the pockets of the overlong padded coat, worn for the purpose of disguise as well as to keep the bite of the December wind out.
This was nuts. All she had to do was cross the bustling London street and enter the impressive skyscraper that housed Caversham Holiday Adventures HQ. Easy, right? Clearly not, because her feet remained adhered to the pavement.
On the plus side, at least there didn’t seem to be any reporters around. Unless they were camouflaged as one of the Christmas vendors touting anything from chestnuts to reindeer-daubed jumpers. Not that she’d studied them too closely as she’d walked through Knightsbridge, head down, in desperate hope that her furry hood and sunglasses would save her from recognition and the mortification of a public lynching.
But so far so good, and maybe the fact there were no paps in hot pursuit meant they had finally got the message and realised that not a single comment would fall from her zipped lips, effectively sewn shut by Hugh’s threats.
His American drawl still echoed in her ears.
‘One wrong word and my publicity machine will chew you up, spit you out and leave your remains for my lawyers to kick.’
So the paps were better off camping on Hugh’s doorstep, where comments flowed in a stream of lies from his glamorous Hollywood lips. No change there. Mind you, she couldn’t even blame his legions of fans for their implicit belief in him. After all, she had fallen hook, line and sinker for every honeyed word he’d conned her with. And now...
Now the headlines screamed across her brain.
Ruby Hampton—exposed as two-timing gold-digger!
Hugh Farlane: Hollywood megastar. Heartbroken!
Christmas Engagement Extravaganza off!
Ruby Hampton vilified by Farlane’s adoring public!
‘Vilified’ was an understatement—Hugh’s besotted fans were baying for her blood. No one believed in her innocence—instead they believed she had broken Hugh’s heart whilst in hot pursuit of filthy lucre. The idea made her toes curl in abhorrence—she’d vowed in childhood never to exist on someone else’s handouts and it was a promise she’d faithfully kept. Her parents had produced child after child to reap state benefits to