open. ‘Ethan. Your ten o’clock appointment is here.’
‘Thank you, Linda.’
One more censorious look and Linda withdrew, the door snapping shut behind her.
Heart pounding so hard it was a miracle her ribcage remained intact, Ruby stepped forward as a man rose from behind the curved cherrywood desk.
Oh.
Sure, she’d researched him. Sure, the internet had revealed that present-day Ethan Caversham was hot, rugged and handsome. Come to that, teenage Ethan had been no slouch in the looks department.
But now... Now she was adhered to the plush carpet, mouth agape, as she took in his chiselled features, thick brown hair, cool blue-grey eyes. Six foot plus, with a body that had been honed over the years into muscular perfection. The angry vibe of a decade ago had been muted into an edgy aura of toughness; this wasn’t a man you’d mess with.
Nerves that had already been writhing serpent-like in her tummy renewed their snaking.
Come on, Ruby. Don’t blow this.
Uprooting her feet, she moved towards the cherrywood desk and held her hand out. ‘Ruby Hampton.’
The feel of his fingers round hers brought back a blast of memory and an undefinable, ridiculous sense of safety, and for an insane second she wanted to hold on to his broad, capable hand. For a lingering second his eyes met hers and something glinted in their blue-grey depths.
‘Good to see you again,’ he said.
‘You too.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘I... I...’
Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was ridiculous. She’d known the past would come up and she’d planned to deal with it with brightness and breeze. Unfortunately the plan hadn’t allowed for the poleaxed effect on her of this version of Ethan. What was the matter with her? Instant attraction wasn’t something she believed in. Any more than she believed in instant coffee.
‘I wasn’t sure you knew who I was, given we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.’ The words escaped her lips with a lot more tartness than she’d intended—more ice-cold than bright and breezy.
‘No.’
There was a pause, but it soon became clear that Ethan wasn’t planning to vouchsafe any more. For a moment the urge to berate him—to force an apology for a decade-old insult, a hurt she hadn’t deserved—tempted her vocal cords.
Bad idea, Ruby.
The past needed to remain firmly anchored in the past. Plus, no way did she want Ethan to know he could still incite such a seething of emotional turmoil. Truth be told, she wasn’t that happy about it herself.
Forcing a cool smile to her lips, she nodded. ‘I guess the important thing is that we’ve both come a long way this past decade.’
He gestured to the chair opposite his desk. ‘That we have. Please—have a seat and let’s get started.’
* * *
Easier said than done.
Annoyance flicked in Ethan at his inexplicable reaction to Ruby Hampton.
Inexplicable? Get real.
Ruby was dynamite. Somewhere in the past decade she had morphed from street urchin to professional beauty—dark hair swept up in a chignon, flawless skin glowing translucent and cheekbones you could climb. The problem was his response was more than physical.
Physical attraction he could deal with—attractive women were ten a penny. But Ruby had awoken something else. Because he’d glimpsed a flash of quickly masked vulnerability in her sapphire eyes. The very same vulnerability that had been there all those years ago. An indefinable yet familiar emotion had banded his chest, and for an instant he could taste those youthful emotions—anger, confusion, panic.
Back then her eyes had held incipient hero-worship too. A look he’d loathed. He had known then, as he knew now, that he was no hero, and the idea of adoration had flayed his soul. Sudden guilt thumped his chest. Pointless guilt. Ten years ago he’d done what had been right for Ruby—ripped her fledgling crush out at the roots before it developed into more. Because then, as now, he had known he couldn’t offer more.
Enough, already.
That had been then—this was now. And right now all Ruby’s eyes held was a cool wariness as she waited for him to start the interview.
So... ‘How did you end up in the catering industry?’
‘After you and I...’ a small hesitation ‘...went our separate ways I started a waitressing job and enrolled on an adult education course. I worked every shift I could and studied the rest of the time.’ Sheer determination etched her features. ‘I wanted out of the hostel and out of the care system. I wanted to make my own way in the world and I wanted to do it as fast as possible.’
‘I get that.’
He totally understood the need to spend every second busy, busy, busy, until you fell into bed so exhausted that the past didn’t dig its talons into your dreams. He fully grasped the necessity of achieving success for your own salvation.
‘Once I got some qualifications the owner of the café I worked in offered me promotion to manager and I took it. From there I moved into hotel work, and...’
As she continued to outline her impressive career trail admiration touched him.
‘And your last job was front-of-house manager at Forsythe’s?’
Forsythe’s being one of London’s most prestigious restaurants. Graced by the rich and famous, it adjoined Forsythe’s Theatre, run by the Forsythe family for centuries.
‘Tell me about your experience there.’
‘I worked closely with the manager to give the restaurant a new touch. I introduced a Regency theme—spent hours trawling the internet, art shops and markets, finding some incredible items.’
All wariness clearly forgotten, she leant forward; her hands flying the air as she made a point, her classical features illuminated by enthusiasm as she described finding a genuine two-hundred-year-old sketch of the theatre.
‘I researched new menus...liaised with customers—’ She broke off and a shadow crossed her face as she sat back in her chair.
‘Like Hugh Farlane,’ Ethan stated.
‘Yes. And many others.’ Her tone was noncommittal, her dark blue eyes once again guarded. ‘I hope that my experience at Forsythe’s ties in with whatever role you have in mind for me?’
‘Yes, it does. Let me tell you more about the position.’
And then, if she was interested, he would return to the subject of Hugh Farlane.
‘So,
