Christmas Kisses With Her Boss. Nina Milne

Christmas Kisses With Her Boss - Nina  Milne


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as her slender fingers slid its length. He turned the sound into what even he could hear was a less than plausible cough. ‘Would you like a drink? The bar’s not fully stocked yet, but I do have a selection of drinks.’

      ‘That would be really helpful.’

      ‘Helpful...?’

      ‘Yup. Lots of your guests will sit in here before coming into the restaurant. I want their movement to segue. So if I can just soak up the atmosphere in here a bit that would be helpful.’

      ‘Fine by me. What would you like to drink?’

      ‘Tomato juice with tabasco sauce.’

      Ethan went behind the bar, ridiculously aware of her gaze on him as he squatted down to grab a bottle, deftly opened the tomato juice, shifted ice and peppered the mix with the fiery sauce.

      A blink and she stepped away from the bar. ‘You’re a natural.’ Her voice edged with added husk.

      ‘I make sure I can stand in for any of my staff,’ he said, placing her drink on the bar, unable to risk so much as the brush of her hand. He gestured towards an area near the Victorian fireplace, with two overstuffed armchairs.

      Ruby sat down and looked round the room, blue eyes widening. ‘You have done such a fabulous job here—I can’t really find words to describe it. I know I’ve never been to any of the other Caversham sites, but I did do a lot of online research and...’ Slim shoulders lifted. ‘This seems different. I can’t quite put my finger on it but this feels more...personal. Does that sound daft?’

      No, it didn’t. It spoke volumes for her intuitive powers. His vision for the castle was personal. And it was going to stay that way. An explanation too likely to open him up to accolades—the idea set his teeth on the brink of discomfort. Even worse, it might pave the way to a discussion as to his motivations and a visit down memory lane. That was enough to make his soul run cold and he felt his mouth form a grim line.

      Ruby twirled a strand of hair that had escaped its confines. ‘I’m not trying to pry, but if you do have a different idea for the castle restaurant then I need to know, so I can come up with the right design.’

      Time to say something. ‘I feel proud of what I’ve already done here, and I’m sure we can work together to come up with a concept that works for the castle.’

      Another glance around and then she smiled at him, a smile that warmed him despite his best attempts to erect a wall of coldness.

      ‘You’re right to be proud, Ethan—you have come so far. You said ten years ago you would make it big—but this...it’s gigantically humungous.’

      There it was again—the tug back to the past. Yes, he’d vowed to succeed—how else could he show his mother, show the whole world, that he was worth something? That he was not his father.

      ‘I’m truly honoured to be part of it. So if there is anything I need to know, please share.’

      Share. The word was alien. Ethan Caversham knew the best way to walk was alone. Ten years ago Ruby Hampton had slipped under his guard enough that he’d shared his dream of success. And instantly regretted the confidence when it had seemed to make her want more—now here she was again with a request that he share, and once again the promise of warmth in those eyes held allure, a tempt to disclosure.

      Not this time—this time he’d break the spell at the outset.

      ‘I do have an attachment to the castle—I think it’s because it does feel steeped in history. That’s why I’ve gone into such detail. You may want to take note of the stone floors. Also the reason the room is predominantly ruby-red and dark green is that there were limited colours actually available then. And did you know that it was only in the eighteen-forties that wallpaper was first mass-produced?’

      Excellent—he’d turned into a walking encyclopaedia on Victorian restoration.

      Ruby nodded. ‘You’ve got it exactly right with the birds and animals motif, and the faux marble paint effects are spot-on too. As for the fireplace...it’s magnificent—especially with all the dried flowers.’

      Clearly Ruby had decided to humour the boss and join in with the fact-bombardment.

      ‘I love the brass light fittings as well. And all the ornaments. The Victorians loved ornaments.’ She rose from the sofa and crouched down in front of one of a pair of porcelain dogs on either side of the fireplace. ‘These are a real find. A proper matching pair.’

      ‘They are,’ Ethan agreed. ‘How come you’re so knowledgeable?’

      ‘We looked into the idea of going Victorian in Forsythe’s.’

      That seemed to cover Victoriana, and suddenly the atmosphere thickened.

      Rising to her feet, Ruby reached out for her glass, drained it and glanced at her watch. ‘Would it be okay if I clocked off for today? I need to sort out somewhere to stay—I’ve got a list of places to ring.’

      For a fraction of a second a shadow crossed her sapphire eyes. Then the hint of vulnerability was blinked away as she straightened her shoulders and smiled at him.

      ‘I’ll call them, find somewhere, and then grab a taxi.’

      Realisation crashed down. She was scared—and who could blame her? Right now the idea of an encounter with the public was enough to daunt the staunchest of celebrities.

      That instinctive need to protect her surged up and triggered his vocal cords. ‘Or you could stay here.’

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘HERE?’ RELIEF TOUCHED RUBY, but before she could succumb she forced her brain to think mode. ‘Why?’

      Ethan shrugged. ‘It makes sense. It’s a hotel. There’s plenty of room. You’ll have to make your own bed, and there’s no housekeeping service, but you can have a suite and work more effectively here. I’ll be staying here too, so you won’t be on your own.’

      Thoughts scrambled round her brain. Truth be told, she would feel safer here. Because of Ethan. The thought sneaked in and she dismissed it instantly. This was zip to do with Ethan—sheer logic dictated she should stay in the castle. Nothing to do with his aura, or the slow burn of the atmosphere.

      ‘Thank you, Ethan. If you’re sure.’

      ‘I’m sure. Let’s find you a bedroom.’

      ‘Um... Okay.’ Freaking great—here came a tidal wave blush adolescent-style at the word. How ridiculous. As preposterous as the thud of her heart as she followed him up the sweep of the magnificent staircase to the second floor, where he pushed open a door marked ‘Elizabethan Suite’ and stood back to let her enter.

      ‘Whoa!’ The room was stunning, a panorama of resplendence, and yet despite its space, despite the splendour of the brocade curtains and the gorgeous wall-hangings that depicted scenes of verdure, her eyes were drawn with mesmerising force to the bed. Four-poster, awash with luxurious draperies—but right now all she could concentrate on was the fact that it was a bed.

      For a crazy moment her mind raced to create an age-old formula; her body brazenly—foolishly—wanted to act on an instinct older than time. And for one ephemeral heartbeat his pupils darkened to slate-grey and she believed that insanity must be contagious...believed that he would close the gap between them.

      Then Ethan stepped back and the instant dissolved, leaving a sizzle in the air. A swivel of the heel and he’d turned to the door.

      ‘I’ll meet you in the morning to finish showing you around. If you’re hungry there’s some basic food stuff in the kitchen.’

      ‘Okay.’ Though her appetite had deserted her—pushed aside by the spin of emotions Ethan had unleashed.


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