Snowkissed. Jessica Gilmore

glasses seized the light and glittered from each angled facet, a plethora of star candles dotted the table, and the gleam of moisture sheened the champagne already in an ice bucket.

      ‘Sit, sit...’ Tony said. ‘I have, for you, chosen the best—the very best of our menu. You need not even have to think—you can simply enjoy.’

      * * *

      Ruby watched his departing back and opened her mouth, closed it again as a waiter glided towards them, poured the champagne and reverently placed a plate of canapés in front of them.

      ‘Made by Signor Pugliano himself. There is arancini di riso filled with smoked mozzarella cheese, radicchio ravioli, bresaola and pecorino crostini drizzled with truffle oil, and Jerusalem artichokes with chestnut velouté, perfumed with white truffle oil.’

      ‘That sounds marvellous,’ Ruby managed.

      Once the waiter had gone she met Ethan’s gaze, clocked his smile and forced her toes to remain uncurled. It was a smile—nothing more.

      ‘This is almost as miraculous as what I just witnessed. I am considering how to lift my jaw from my knees.’ She shook her head. ‘Tony Pugliano is renowned as one of the toughest, most brusque, most temperamental chefs in the country and round you he’s turned into some sort of pussycat. How? Why? What gives?’

      His smile morphed into a grin. ‘It’s my famous charm.’

      ‘Rubbish.’ However charming Ethan was—and that was a point she had no wish to dwell on—it wouldn’t affect Tony Pugliano. ‘Plus, I know Hugh eats here, so I’m amazed he seemed so happy to see me.’

      ‘You are underrating my charm capacity,’ Ethan said.

      Picking up a canapé, she narrowed her eyes. Nope—she wasn’t buying it. This was zip to do with charm, but clearly Ethan had no intention of sharing. No surprise there, then.

      ‘Especially given his less than accommodating attitude when I applied for a job here after my break-up with Hugh. Whereas now, if you asked him to, he’d probably give me any job I asked for.’ Seeing his eyebrows rise she shook her head. ‘Not that I want you to do that!’

      ‘You sure?’ There was an edge to his voice under the light banter.

      Disbelief and hurt mingled. Surely Ethan couldn’t possibly think she would go after another job. ‘I am one hundred per cent sure. You gave me a chance when no one else would give me the opportunity to wash so much as a dish. So you get one hundred per cent loyalty.’

      ‘I appreciate that.’

      Yet the flatness of his tone was in direct variance to the fizz of champagne on her tongue. ‘Ethan. I mean it.’

      His broad shoulders lifted and for a second the resultant ripple of muscle distracted her. But only for a heartbeat.

      ‘There isn’t such a thing as one hundred per cent loyalty. Everyone has a price or a boundary that dissolves loyalty.’

      The edge of bitterness caught at her. Had someone let him down? All of a sudden it became imperative that he believed in her.

      ‘Well, I don’t. You’re stuck with me for the duration.’

      His large hand cradled his glass, set the light amber liquid swirling. ‘If you had an opportunity to have a family then your loyalty might lose some percentage points. Likewise if I stopped paying your salary your allegiance would be forfeit.’ He pierced a raviolo. ‘That’s life, Ruby. No big deal.’

      ‘It is a huge deal—and I think I need to make something clear. I do want children, but that does not take precedence above this job. Right now my top priority is to see Caversham Castle firmly ensconced as the lodestar of Caversham Holiday Adventures. I have no intention of starting a family until I am financially secure, with a house, savings in the bank and the ability to support one. But even if I won the Lottery I would not let you down. As for you not paying me—I know you would only do that in a crisis. I would always believe that you’d turn that crisis around, so you’d still have my loyalty.’

      Ethan didn’t look even remotely moved—it was as if her words had slid off his smooth armour of cynicism.

      Dipping a succulent morsel of artichoke into the chestnut velouté, she savoured the taste, wondered how else she could persuade him. She looked up and encountered an ironic glint in his eyes.

      ‘Forget the Lottery. What if Mr Perfect turns up and says he wants a family right now? I wouldn’t see you for dust.’

      The words stung—what would it take to show him that he could trust her? ‘That won’t happen because I’m not planning on a meeting with Mr Perfect. I don’t need Mr Perfect—or Mr Anyone. My plan is to be a single parent.’

      His grey-blue eyes hardened, all emotion vanishing to leave only ice.

      The advent of their waiter was a relief and a prevention of further conversation. As if sensing the tension, he worked deftly to remove their used plates and replace them.

      ‘Here is langoustine cooked three different ways. Roasted with a hint of chilli and served with puy lentils, grilled with seared avocado and manuka honey, and a langoustine mousseline with manzanilla,’ he said swiftly, before making a dignified retreat with a discreet, ‘Buon appetito.’

      Ethan didn’t so much as peek down at his plate, and Ruby forced herself to hold his gaze even as regret pounded her temples. Of all the idiotic conversational paths to take, telling Ethan about her single parenthood aspirations rated right up there as the Idiot Trail. Her intent had been to prove her loyalty was genuine, to reassure him. Which was nuts. Ethan was a billionaire...head of a global business—he did not need reassurance from one restaurant manager minion.

      ‘This looks delicious,’ she ventured.

      ‘Enjoy it whilst you can. Single parenthood doesn’t offer much opportunity to eat like this.’

      Was he for real? A trickle of anger seeped into her veins. ‘That’s a bit of a sweeping statement, don’t you think?’

      His snort of derision caused her toes to tingle with the urge to kick him.

      ‘No. Do you have any idea of the reality of single parenthood? How hard it is?’

      Swallowing down the threat of a mirthless laugh, she slapped some of the langoustine mousse onto some bread and took a bite. Tried to concentrate on the incredible hit to her tastebuds instead of the memories that hovered before her—memories of those childhood years when she had effectively looked after her siblings. Dark-haired Tom, blue-eyed Philippa and baby Edie...

      Yes! she wanted to shout. Yes, she did know how hard it was—but she also knew with all her being that it was worth it.

      ‘I fully understand how enormous a responsibility parenting is and I know it will be hard. But I also know it will be incredibly rewarding.’

      Ever since she’d lost her siblings, understood she would never be with them again. Ruby had known with every cell of her body and soul that she wanted a family.

      Desperately she tried to neutralise her expression but it was too late—his blue-grey eyes considered her and his face lost some of its scowl.

      ‘Those are words, Ruby. Easy to say. But the reality of caring for a family and supporting them at the same time on your own is way more daunting.’ His voice sounded less harsh, yet the words were leaden with knowledge.

      ‘I know it won’t be easy.’

      ‘No, it won’t. Plus it’s not all about babies and how cute and sweet they are.’

      ‘I get that.’ Her teeth were now clenched so tightly her jaw ached. ‘I am not a fool, basing a decision like this on a baby’s cute factor.’

      Given her plan to adopt, it was more than possible that she’d opt for