her veins. Chill, Ruby. Who wouldn’t look forward to Christmas in the Alps? Obviously those little pulse-buzzes had zilch to do with the prospect of one-on-one time with Ethan. Because that would be personal. To say nothing of certifiably stupid.
Ethan nodded, his expression inscrutable. ‘Okay. I’ll check flights and we’ll take the first available one.’
‘Fantastic.’
Though it occurred to Ruby that this whole idea could be better filed under ‘Terminally Stupid’.
RUBY GLANCED ACROSS at Ethan and tried to stop her tummy from a launch into cartwheels. Tried to tell herself that her stomach’s antics were a Braxton-Hicks-type reaction to non-existent air turbulence. Why on earth had she consented to this? Why in this universe had he suggested it?
Because it was work. That was why. Ethan wanted to scout out the French Alps and had decided that this was an ideal time. Plus he was a generous man, and this was his way of showing appreciation for all her hard work.
Work, Ruby. That was what this was and she had best remember that. After all it was Christmas Day, and apart from a perfunctory ‘Merry Christmas’ Ethan hadn’t so much as referred to the fact.
Though she could hardly blame him. Organising their departure had been his priority, and she could only admire the efficiency that had achieved a super-early trip to her London apartment to pick up her passport, followed by a trip to the airport that had given her sufficient time to pick up the extra cold-weather clothes she needed as well as time for a spirited argument over who would pay for said clothing.
Now here they were, on board a flight to Geneva, where they would pick up a car. So who could blame Ethan for not making a hue and cry about it being Christmas—he was taking her to a magical Christmas place after all.
On a business trip.
What else did she want it to be?
Yet as she studied the strength of his profile, the potent force of his jaw, an obscure yearning banded her chest—as if she were a girl with her nose pressed against the glass pane of a sweet shop. Gazing, coveting, but unable to touch.
As if he sensed her gaze he turned to look at her and the breath hitched in her throat. The man was so gorgeous—but it was more than that. The way he had been with those teenagers had filled her with admiration. He’d shown them respect and invited respect in return—the fact that he’d cared about them had shone through, and it had triggered this ridiculous gooeyness inside her.
Enough. Say something. Before you embarrass yourself.
To her relief panic mobilised her vocal cords and she burst into speech. ‘I was wondering—where are we staying?’
‘The travel agent managed to find us a chalet; there weren’t many options but she assured me that it would be perfect. And I’ve organised an itinerary.’
For a second his voice sounded almost gruff...even vulnerable...and she thought there was a hint of colour on the strong angles of his face.
‘What sort of an itinerary?’
‘The kind that will give us an idea of what other resorts offer.’ Now his tone had segued to brusque—she was an idiot. What had she thought? That he’d picked things out for her?
‘Great.’
The chalet was presumably part of a resort—which would be good. There would be hustle and bustle and other people, and they would be kept so busy with work that the two days would pass by in a flash.
‘Sure is.’ Ethan nodded a touch too enthusiastically. ‘I’ve got the address, so once we land we’ll pick up the hire car, put the location into the satnav and be on our way.’
* * *
This had to be a joke right? Ethan stared through the windscreen of the four-by-four that had negotiated the curving mountain roads and treacherous hairpin bends to bring them to the chalet that the satnav had announced was their destination. He’d swear the robotic voice had a gloat to it.
He was going to track down that travel agent and have serious words. She had described the chalet as ‘just the place’ and left Ethan with the impression that it was part of a busy resort, awash with people and activities. Though maybe he’d been so distracted by Ruby, so caught up in the mad impulse of the moment, that he’d heard what he’d wanted to hear.
Because it turned out that the chalet was a higgledy-piggledy structure nestled in the fold of a valley and it looked like it had come straight out of a fairy tale. Set in a circular grove of snow-heaped birches, the property was made completely of wood. It practically glowed. Quaint wooden shutters boxed in the windows and there wasn’t another person in sight.
It looked as if it had descended from the clouds especially for Christmas. It was a surprise that it wasn’t wrapped up in festive paper with a bow on top.
Ethan resisted the urge to thunk his forehead on the chunky steering wheel. Instead he glanced across at Ruby, who had fallen asleep on the motorway and slept like the proverbial infant for the entire drive. Perhaps if he started the car he could drive them to the nearest hotel and blag them two rooms. Or he could phone the travel agent and...
Too late.
Next to him Ruby stretched sleepily and opened her eyes; her sleep-creased face looked adorably kissable.
‘Can’t believe I fell asleep.’ Her blue eyes widened as she took in the scene. ‘Oh, my goodness me! We get to stay here?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘It’s as if we’ve been beamed into a fairy tale. Or a Christmas card.’
Or a nightmare.
‘It’s magical. I reckon it may even be made of gingerbread.’
‘Which wouldn’t exactly be very useful, would it?’
Chill, Ethan. Snapping wouldn’t change the setting.
‘Plus, I don’t much want to be trapped in a cage by a wicked witch and fattened up. In fact maybe we should go and find somewhere else to stay.’
Her gurgle of laughter indicated that she’d missed the fact he’d meant it as a genuine suggestion. ‘I didn’t have you down as a fairy tale expert.’
‘I’m not.’
For a second he remembered Tanya reading to him, his laughter at the funny voices she’d used for the different characters.
‘You should go on stage,’ he’d told her, and she’d shaken her head.
‘I’d be too shy, Thanny,’ she’d said in her soft voice. ‘But I love reading to you.’
He pushed the memory away and glared at the chalet. ‘I’m serious. Wouldn’t you rather stay somewhere busier? Less
