she’d gone upstairs to armour herself in clothes. For this bubble of time she had been herself—no façade needed. Same for him. But now... Now it was time to go back to normal. Because being himself was too raw, too hard, too emotional. And emotion was not the way he wanted to go—he wanted the status quo of his un-rocked boat.
So he filled the kettle and assembled the ingredients for breakfast. The bread they had bought yesterday, the succulent strawberry jam, the pastries Ruby loved so much.
The sound of her shoes tapping on the wooden floor forced him to look up.
‘Looks great,’ she said, the words too bright, underscored with brittleness.
Her glorious hair was tamed into a sleek ponytail, not even a tendril loose. The knowledge sucker-punched him—never again would he run his fingers through those smooth silky curls, never again would he touch her soft skin, hear the small responsive gasp she made...
Enough.
A sudden urge to sweep the breakfast off the table, to get rid of the false image of intimacy, nearly overwhelmed him. The intimacy was over, and the sooner they exited this cloying atmosphere the better.
Too many emotions brewed inside him now, but at all costs he had to remember this was not Ruby’s fault. If he had miscalculated it would not rebound on her. Instead he would haul back on all this feeling and return to professional normality. Though right now, in the line of her direct gaze, work seemed almost surreal. Which was nuts. Work was his life.
Jeez, Ethan.
Now he’d gone all drama king. Maybe he’d actually shed some brain cells these past days. In which case it was time to use the ones he had left. Fast.
No point in rueing the fact that he’d agreed to this fling in the first place. His eyes had been open to the fact that it would be different from his usual liaisons—he simply hadn’t realised how that difference would play out. But there was no time for regrets. None at all. Regret was an indulgence—the important thing now was momentum.
With determination he lifted a croissant, went through the motions of spreading butter and jam. Then he glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll need to hit the road soon. I thought we could do a drive-round and get a visual of any areas or properties suitable for Caversham. I’ll do a computer trawl whilst you pack up. Then maybe you can take over whilst I pack.’
‘No problem.’
The cool near formality of her tone smote him even as he forced himself to pick up his coffee cup.
A gulp of coffee and she pushed her plate away. ‘I’m on it.’
RUBY LOOKED AROUND the banqueting hall of Caversham Castle and tried to summon more than a token sense of pride and achievement. It looked fabulous, and she knew the sight would usually have prompted a victory dance or three around the room.
Actually it looked better than fabulous—she had worked flat-out the past two days, and all the work she had put in prior to Christmas had paid off. Medieval-style trestle tables fashioned from oak were arranged round the restaurant floor. The ceiling boasted an intricate mural depicting knights, princesses and acts of valour. The whole room seeped history, with maps of Cornwall through the ages and Cornish scenes from centuries ago adorning the walls.
Soon enough the room would be filled with the bustle of one hundred celebrity guests, the sound of troubadours and the scent of a genuine historic feast and Ruby knew the evening would be a success.
If only she cared.
She resisted the urge to put her head in her hands—of course she cared. This would be a career-tilting event—it would show the world that Ruby Hampton was the business. The restaurant at Caversham Castle would be launched in style, and she had little doubt that by the time they opened for normal custom in two weeks they would be booked up months in advance. Which was even better, because then she would be rushed off her feet.
Which would hopefully be the catalyst for the cessation of the stupid, mad feelings that swamped her every time she saw Ethan. The strange ache in her tummy when she wasn’t with him...the stranger ache in her heart when she was. It would almost be preferable to discover that it was an ulcer rather than what she suspected—she missed him. Missed the Ethan she had glimpsed for forty-eight precious hours.
Unfortunately that Ethan had vanished—had donned the cloak of professionalism and left the building. How did he do that? Maybe the same way she did. After all, hadn’t she been the epitome of a perfect restaurant manager? Could there be a possibility that he was hurting as she was?
But even if he was...what difference did it make? There could be no future. Her plan was to adopt and Ethan didn’t want a family. Ethan didn’t want anything.
In two days the ball would be over—it would be a new year and a new start. Ethan would waltz off to his usual business concerns and she would be able to get her head back together.
The back of her neck prickled and her whole body went to code red—a sure indicator that Ethan was in the vicinity.
‘It’s looking good,’ he said. ‘I need the final auction list, please. Rafael’s on his way and he wants to look at it en route.’
‘Sure. It’s good of him to be auctioneer.’
‘Yes.’
The terse edge of near indifference that veiled his tone made her foot itch with the urge to kick him even as she matched it. ‘I’ll email him the list straight away.’
‘Ruby?’
The sound of Cora Brookes’s even, well-modulated voice had her swivelling on her heel in relief. Cora, the new hotel administrator, had arrived two days before, and already Ruby was impressed by her smooth competence—though Cora had equally smoothly avoided all attempts at anything other than professional conversation.
‘I thought you should see this.’
‘What’s up? Don’t tell me the caterers have cancelled? Rafael Martinez has pulled out?’
For a second a faint look Ruby couldn’t interpret crossed Cora’s face. Then the redhead shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. Why would he? It’s great publicity for him... Plus it’s not often a playboy like him gets to feature in a celebrity magazine in a charitable light.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, here you are.’
Ruby accepted the netbook and looked down at a celebrity magazine’s website.
Breaking News!
Hugh Farlane engaged.
‘This time it’s the real thing,’ Hollywood star proclaims.
What?
Disbelief churned in her tummy. She’d barely given Hugh a thought in the past days. Apart from feeling a vague relief that he had obviously decided to stop offering her up as sacrificial goods to the press.
Mere weeks after
