‘How about in here?’ she suggested, stopping outside a bar that resembled an old coaching inn.
‘Sure.’
They stepped over the threshold into the warmth of the bar. Chatter in a variety of languages mingled with universal laughter and the chink and rattle of glasses and cutlery. The aroma of fondue and beer was mixed with the tang of snow.
‘What would you like?’
‘A small glass of white wine, please.’ Ruby eyed him with something very near speculation as she tugged her bobble hat off.
‘Coming right up.’ He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the back of a chair whilst she seated herself at the round wooden table. As he headed through the throng to the bar he was aware of her eyes as they followed his progress.
Minutes later he returned and placed her wine and his tankard of beer on the table. He sat down and surveyed her thoughtful expression. Something had shifted and he wasn’t sure what it was. The idea that they were on the brink of new territory sent a conflict of anticipation and panic to his synapses.
Ruby lifted her glass. ‘To us. And how far we’ve come.’
Her words seemed imbued with meaning. The crowd and the hum of conversation seemed to fade, to leave only Ruby and himself. Perhaps he should make a stalwart attempt to pull the conversation round to work, but the idea refused to be translated into words.
The moment they had avoided so dextrously refused to be ignored any longer. That kiss—the mammoth in the room—was sitting right next to them, drink in hand. All he could think about was how her lips had felt, the wonder and the beauty and the sheer pleasure of that kiss. A kiss he’d waited a decade for...the desire he’d run from all those years ago. And now...
Ruby leant forward, her sapphire eyes sparkling as she tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘I’ve been thinking, and I want...’ Her cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink. ‘I want... I want—’ She broke off. ‘Maybe it’s better to start with what I don’t want. I don’t want a relationship with you. I don’t want to climb into your boat or to rock it in any way whatsoever. My goal is adoption, and I will not let anything stand in my way.’
A pause whilst she sipped her drink.
‘But I would like to explore this further. You and me. Just whilst we’re here. Like a bubble of time between our pasts and our futures. I’d like to enjoy the now. With you. A two-night holiday fling. That’s what you normally do, isn’t it?’
No! It was an enormous effort to haul the syllable back. But instinct revolted, because Ethan knew that whatever happened between him and Ruby it didn’t class with his usual liaisons.
‘No.’ The word was gentle. ‘No, Ruby. You are different. If we do this I need you to know that.’
If they did this.
Ethan tried to think—when all he wanted to do was punch the air in triumph, sling Ruby over his shoulder caveman-style and get back to the chalet pronto. But he couldn’t do that. Ruby had thought this through and he needed to do that as well.
Hours before he had ended their kiss because he had believed it was a bad idea—succumbing to em
otion and impulse would land him in trouble. Worse, it could land Ruby in trouble, and he wouldn’t let that happen. She’d been messed around enough by the men in her life—he wouldn’t add to that.
‘Ethan, I won’t get hurt.’
Great. Clearly she could read him like a picture book.
‘This is my idea. As soon as we get on the plane back home we revert to normal. Boss and employee. And we throw ourselves into making the ball a success. This will work.’
Her words held conviction and sense. Ruby did not want a relationship with him—she wanted a fling. There would be no further expectation, so he would not be messing with her head. Ruby wanted a family—he didn’t. There could be no future. Her words.
For a scant second a warning bell clanged at the back of his brain—he didn’t want to let Ruby close, remember? But Ethan wasn’t in danger—how could he be? This was a fling—purely physical, no emotions on the table.
‘Let’s do it,’ he said.
* * *
Ruby held her breath, giddy with sheer disbelief—had she really propositioned Ethan Caversham? Yup—she believed she had. For a scant second she wondered if she’d lost her mind. Yet if her sanity had gone walkabout she was in no hurry to get it back. Not when Ethan’s eyes raked over her, glinting with a promise of fulfilment that sent shivers dancing up her spine.
‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘Would you mind skipping dinner? I don’t think I could eat a thing. But if you’re hungry...’
Be quiet, Ruby. Before he changes his mind.
‘I don’t want dinner.’