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

‘So you don’t want a long-term relationship or kids? Ever?’

‘I don’t want any type of relationship. Full stop. I make sure my...my liaisons are brief.’ Like a night—a weekend, tops.

Ruby’s eyed widened and his exasperation escalated as he identified compassion in her.

‘But you’ve worked so hard to build up Caversham. What’s the point if you don’t have someone to hand it over to?’

‘That’s hardly a reason to have a child.’

‘Not a reason, but surely part of being a parent is the desire to pass on your values or beliefs. A part of yourself.’

The very idea made him go cold. ‘I think that’s a bit egocentric. You can’t have children just to inculcate them with your beliefs.’

‘No!’ She shook her head, impatience in the movement. ‘You’re making it sound as if I want to instil them with questionable propaganda. I don’t. But I do believe we are programmed with a need to nurture. To love and be loved.’

‘Well, I’m the exception to the rule.’

Her chin angled in defiance. ‘Or your programming has gone haywire.’

Ethan picked his glass up and sipped the fizz. No way would he rise to that bait.

‘The point is, even if you’re right, it is wrong to put that burden on someone. That responsibility. You shouldn’t have a child just because you want someone to love and love you back. There are enough people out there already. The world doesn’t need more.’

‘Actually...’ Ruby hesitated.

‘Actually, what?’

‘Nothing.’

Before he could respond the boom of Tony Pugliano’s voice rang out. ‘So, my friends. It was all to your liking?’

* * *

Ruby’s thoughts whirled as she strove to concentrate on Tony’s question, primed her lips to smile. Maybe this was an intervention from providence itself—a reinforcement of her decision to cease with the confidences.

‘It was incredible, Tony!’ she stated.

‘How could it be anything else?’ the chef declared. ‘And now we have the perfect end to the perfect meal—I have for you a sample of the very best desserts in the world.’

He waved an expansive hand and the waiter appeared with an enormous platter, which he placed in the middle of the table.

‘I, Tony Pugliano, prepared these with my own hands for your delectation. There is praline mousseline with cherry confit, clementine cheesecake, almond and black sesame pannacotta and a dark chilli chocolate lime torta.’ He beamed as he clapped Ethan on the shoulder. ‘And of course all this is on the house.’

There went her jaw again—headed kneewards. On the house. She doubted such words had ever crossed Tony’s lips before.

‘You look surprised. No need. Because never, never can I thank this man enough. You saved my Carlo—my one and only child. You are a good man, Ethan, and I thank you with all my heart.’

Tony seemed sublimely unaware of Ethan’s look of intense discomfort. Yet the shadow in Ethan’s eye, the flash of darkness, made her chest band in instinctive sympathy.

‘I think this meal goes a long way towards thanks,’ she said. ‘It was divine. I don’t suppose you would share the secret of the truffle sauce in...?’

The tactic worked. As if recalled to his chef persona, Tony gave a mock roar and shook his head.

‘Never. Not even for you would I reveal the Pugliano family secret. It has passed from one generation to the next for centuries and shall remain sacrosanct for ever. Now—I shall leave you to enjoy the fruit of my unsurpassable skills.’

Once he had made a majestic exit, Ethan nodded. ‘Thanks for the change of subject.’

‘No problem.’ Ruby reached out and selected a mini-dessert. ‘I knew it took more than charm to get Tony Pugliano grazing from your hand. Whatever you did for his son must have been a big deal.’

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, the casual gesture at variance with the wariness in his clenched jaw. ‘I was in a position to help his son and I did so. Simple as that.’

‘It didn’t sound simple to me. More like fundamental.’

‘How about another change of subject?’

Picking up a morsel of cheesecake, he popped it in his mouth. His expression was not so much closed as locked, barred and padlocked—with a ‘Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted’ sign up to boot.

‘I think our dinner conversation has gone a bit off the business track.’

He wasn’t wrong. In fact she should be doused in relief that he didn’t want to rewind their conversational spool. Because she had been on the cusp of intimacy—tempted to confide to Ethan that her plan was to adopt, about to spill even more of her guts. And a girl needed her intestines to survive. Something she would do well to remember.

Her family plans were zilch to do with Ethan Caversham. And similarly there was no need for her to wonder why he had decided to eschew love of any sort from a partner or a child. Over the past week she’d gained his trust, they had built up an easy working relationship, and she would not risk that. She mustn’t let this man tug her into an emotional vortex again. Ten years ago it had been understandable. Now it would be classed as sheer stupidity.

‘So,’ he said. ‘How about we start with what you think of this restaurant? With your guest’s hat on?’

‘Modern. Sweeping. The glass effect works to make it sleek, and his table placement is extraordinary. I love the balcony—it’s contemporary and it’s got buzz. Those enormous flower arrangements are perfect. As for the Christmas effect—it is superb.’

Maybe she could blame the glitter of the pseudo icicles or the scent of cinnamon and gingerbread that lingered in the air for flavouring their conversation with intimacy...

‘Definitely five-star. But is this what you want for Caversham?’

‘Five stars? Absolutely.’

‘I get that, but I have an idea that you’re holding some information back. About your plans for the castle.’ Something she couldn’t quantify made her know that what Tony Pugliano had achieved wasn’t exactly what Ethan was after. His body stilled and she scooped up a spoonful of the cheesecake, allowed the cold tang of clementine to melt on her tongue. ‘Am I right?’

Ethan drummed a rhythm on the table. ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘But it’s on a need-to-know basis.’

‘Don’t you think that as your restaurant manager I “need to know”?’

‘Yes—and when it’s the right time I will tell you. For now, I’d like to discuss the grand opening.’

Determination not to show hurt allowed her to nod, relieved that the movement shook her hair forward to shield her expression from those all-seeing eyes.

‘Fair enough.’

An inhalation of breath and she summoned enthusiasm—she was excited about her ideas for the event and she would not let Ethan’s caginess shadow that.

‘I thought we could have a medieval theme—maybe even a ball. And what do you think about the idea of making it a fundraiser? I know we’ve already confirmed the guest list, but I think people will happily buy tickets for a good cause. Especially if they also get publicity from it. We could offer exclusive coverage to one of the celebrity gossip mags and—’