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