Snowkissed. Jessica Gilmore

Snowkissed - Jessica Gilmore


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on your own, trying to do it all, it can go wrong.’ A shadow darkened his features and he scoured his palm over his face as if in an effort to erase it.

      For a heartbeat doubt shook her—Tom had been five, the girls even younger when social services had finally hauled the whole family into care. If that hadn’t happened would it all have gone wrong for them? Maybe it would—but that was because back then she’d been a child herself. This time she had it all planned.

      ‘I told you. I won’t embark on having a family until I have sufficient resources to make it possible. I will make sure I can work part-time, I will have the best childcare known to mankind, and—’ Breaking off, she picked up her fork and pulled her plate towards her. Shook her head. ‘I have no idea why I am justifying myself to you. Who made you the authority on single parenthood?’

      ‘No one. But I am concerned that you are jumping the gun. Just because Hugh Farlane turned out to be a number one schmuck it doesn’t mean you have to dive into single parenthood. Maybe this desire for kids on your own is a reaction to how badly it worked out with Hugh. I don’t think you should make any hasty decisions, that’s all. It’s a mighty big step to take.’

      His deep tone had gentled, the concern in it undoubtedly genuine, and that was worse than his scorn. That she could have dismissed, or countered with anger. But care triggered in her an alarming yearn to confide in him, to explain that her desire for a family was way more than a whim activated by Hugh’s perfidy.

      Bad idea. Yet she had to say something.

      ‘I know that.’ She did. ‘But this is not a rebound decision from Hugh. Truly it isn’t. It feels right.’

      ‘Why?’

      Ruby hesitated, picked up her glass and sipped a swirl of champagne, relieved to see their waiter approaching. Her brain raced as he placed the next course in front of them, rapidly explained that it consisted of crispy skinned chicken breast with black truffles, spinach and a white port sauce, and then discreetly melted into the background.

      This would be the perfect opportunity to turn the conversation. Yet surely there was no harm in answering the question—maybe it was time to remind herself of her goals and her motivations...set it all out.

      A warning chime pealed from the alcoves of her mind. This was meant to be a professional dinner. It was hard to see that this conversation was anything but personal. But for some indefinable reason it seemed natural. The ding-dong of alarm pealed harder. This was how it had felt a decade before. Curled up in a chair in the beige metallic confines of a hostel room, the temptation to talk and confide had ended up in disaster.

      But it was different now, and...and, truth be told—she wanted him to know that she was all grown up...not some daft girl who hadn’t thought through the idea of going it alone into parenthood. So one last explanation and then she would move the conversation into professional waters.

       CHAPTER SIX

      ETHAN KNEW THAT the whole discussion had derailed spectacularly and that it behoved him to push it onto a blander path.

      But, he couldn’t. Intrigue and frustration intermeshed at the idea of Ruby launching herself into the murk of single parenthood through choice.

       Chill, Ethan.

      There were many, many excellent single parents—he knew that. But it was a tough road; he knew from bitter personal experience exactly how difficult it was—had seen how it had played out for his mother.

      ‘So why single parenthood?’ he repeated.

      Ruby carefully cut up a piece of chicken and for a moment he thought she would change the subject, then she put her cutlery down and shrugged.

      ‘Because I’m not exactly clued up at choosing good father material.’

      ‘Just because Hugh didn’t work out...’

      Ruby snorted. ‘“Didn’t work out” is a bit of an understatement. But the point is that it’s not just Hugh. You see, Hugh wasn’t the first person to tug the wool over my eyes. Being taken in is my speciality—I could write a thesis. When I was nineteen there was Gary. I believed Gary to be a misunderstood individual who had been wrongfully dismissed. Turned out he was a drunken layabout who’d been quite rightly fired. Then a few years later there was Steve—a self-confessed gambler who swore himself hoarse that he was trying to quit. In reality he was keen on extracting as much money from me as possible to fund the local betting shop.’

      A wave of her fork in his direction.

      ‘Hugh you know about. So surely you can see the theme here. I am not a good judge of character. So it makes sense to do this alone.’

      ‘But why do it at all? Or at least why do it now? You’re twenty-six.’

      ‘You are thirty. Most thirty-year-olds aren’t billionaire CEOs of their own global business. Ten years ago I knew I wanted a family and you knew you wanted to make it big. You’ve done that through grit and hard work and drive. Well, now I am doing the same to get a family.’

      A frown slashed his brow. ‘Children aren’t an acquisition.’

      ‘I am not suggesting they are.’ She gave an expressive roll of her eyes as she huffed out a breath that left her exasperation to hover in the air. ‘Sheesh. What is wrong with wanting to have children?’

      ‘Nothing.’

      For Pete’s sake—he’d muttered the word, and now his lips had pressed together as a barrier to the further words that wanted to spill from his lips with unprecedented freedom. To stem the explanation that having children could lead to devastation not joy.

      His mother had been deprived of her daughter—her pride and joy. For an instant the image of Tanya’s lifeless body assaulted his brain. His sister—driven to take her own life. And he hadn’t known—hadn’t been able to protect her.

      His mother had been left with him, her son, a mirror image of her violent criminal husband. The son she had never been able to love but had done her duty by. Until he’d driven her to snap point and she’d washed her hands of him.

      For a split second the memory of the packed case and the hand-over to social services jarred his brain. No fault of hers—in her eyes he’d been on the road to following his father’s footsteps. His impassioned pleas for forgiveness and promises to reform would have simply been further shades of the man she despised.

      Ethan shut down the thought process and concentrated on Ruby’s face. Those sapphire eyes, delicate features and that determined chin. Her expression of challenge had morphed into one of concern and he forced his vocal cords into action and his face into neutral.

      ‘There is nothing wrong with wanting children. I just think you need to give single parenthood a lot of thought and not enter the whole venture with rose-coloured spectacles. That’s all.’

      End of subject, and Ethan picked up his knife and fork and started to eat.

      Ruby twirled a tendril of hair around her finger. ‘What about you? Where do you stand on the venture into parenthood? Don’t you hope for a family one day?’

      ‘No.’

      The idea of a family was enough to bring him out in hives. Family had brought him nothing except a one-way channel to loss, heartbreak and rejection. So what was the point?

      ‘Never?’ Surprise laced her tone.

      ‘No.’ Perhaps monosyllables would indicate to Ruby that this wasn’t a topic he wished to pursue.

      ‘Why not?’

      Clearly the indirect approach hadn’t worked—so it was time to make it clear.

      ‘That’s my personal choice.’

      Hurt mingled with anger


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