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The By Request Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.

The By Request Collection - Kate Hardy


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the door swung open set her heart pounding but she managed a smile.

      ‘Ruby...’ Hugh stepped forward, the familiar smile full of charm on his lips. ‘Great to see you. Come right on in.’

      Could the man have had some sort of amnesia attack?

      ‘Drop the charm, Hugh,’ she said. ‘I’ve come here to give you fair warning.’

      ‘Of what?’

      ‘If this is another scam I won’t stand by and let it happen. I will not let you do it to Portia.’

      A roll of his deep brown eyes. ‘And what exactly do you think you can do to stop me? Wait.’ He raised his hand. ‘I can answer that for you. There is nothing you can do. Portia believes in me, and as far as she is concerned you are a gold-digging vixen. And that’s the way it’s going to stay. In fact...’ A casual shrug accompanied his words. ‘It may get a bit heated for you in the press again. We’ll be giving interviews, and Portia does feel very strongly about you.’

      ‘That’s a joke, right?’ Her imagination went into boggled mode. ‘You want me to take the flak again?’

      ‘Yes.’ Hugh smiled—a smile that would reduce half the population to its knees but left her utterly unmoved. ‘That’s not a problem, is it?’

      ‘What if I say it is?’

      Goodbye to the smile and any pretence of charm. ‘Then you’ll leave me no choice. I’ll take you for everything you have. You’ll lose your job like a shot. You may think Ethan Caversham will protect you, but how long do you think he will do that if I really go to war? Threaten to get one of my friends to sue him?’

      ‘Sue him for what?’ Disbelief and a smidge of fear touched her.

      ‘For improper safety procedures—I could rig an accident, no sweat.’ Tipping his hands in the air, he switched the smile back on. ‘I don’t want to do it, Rube. I don’t... But I need this marriage to happen. Those Forsythe sisters have got a bit suspicious...my agent is on my back again. Yada-yada.’

      ‘In other words you’ve reverted to type,’ Ruby interjected.

      ‘Whatever. Point is, Portia is my salvation.’

      Ruby stared at him, and suddenly so much seemed clear to her. ‘Ethan will never cower before your so-called might. And neither will I. Not any more. So I suggest you tell Portia the truth. Because if you don’t, I will. And if you lie about me one more time in the papers then I will call you on it. I will give an interview of my own and then if you want to retaliate you go for it. Bring it on.’

      A burst of adrenalin shot through her system. Ethan was right—the only way to deal with a bully was to stand up to him.

      Hugh’s eyes narrowed. ‘I could drag you through the mud.’

      ‘Go right ahead. But I will not let you do this to Portia. Or to me. I want you to tell her the truth and I want you to issue a statement saying that we have sorted our differences and you were mistaken about my gold-digging tendencies.’

      He deflated before her eyes, sank onto a chair. ‘You don’t understand. I’m scared I’ll lose my career...’

      ‘Then fight for it. Clean up your act. Change. But do it for real and fight clean.’

      Even as she spoke the words it occurred to her that she had hardly put her own money where her lips were. With Ethan she’d accepted rejection as if it were only to be expected. She hadn’t put up so much as a vestige of fight—had let him write off her love as false.

      Was that the person she’d become? Sure, years ago she’d lost the fight to keep her family together, but that did not mean she had to lose every fight. The truth was, it was easier, less painful, to expect and accept defeat. After all, the harder you fought the more you risked losing.

      A hard rock of determination formed inside her. ‘Your choice, Hugh. I’ve got to go.’

      ‘Okay. I’ll do it.’

      Ruby nodded, already en route to the door. Her thoughts swirled as she figured out how long it would take her to get back to Cornwall. Should she call first? Text? Email?

      The elevator felt claustrophobic, stupidly slow, and she jogged from foot to foot as impatience seized her.

      Finally the doors opened and she stepped outside—and there was Ethan.

      * * *

      Thank goodness. Ethan’s heart thumped against his ribcage as Ruby erupted from the elevator—he’d already paced a layer off the marble floor of the lobby.

      Ruby skidded to a stop and stared at him as if he could be some sort of hologram. ‘Ethan?’

      ‘In the flesh.’

      ‘But...what are you doing here?’

      ‘We need to talk. How did it go with Hugh?’

      ‘Good. All sorted. He’ll tell Portia the truth and issue an apology to me.’

      ‘That’s fabulous, Ruby.’

      ‘Is that why you came here? To check I could cope with Hugh?’ Wariness tinged her expression now as she tugged at an errant strand of hair.

      ‘Nope. Were you planning on coming back to Caversham Castle?’

      ‘No. But...’

      Ethan held a hand up, not sure he could bear to hear any more. Fear strummed him. She had believed the sheer baloney he had spouted earlier. Somehow he had to convince her to give him another chance.

      ‘Not here. We need to talk properly.’

      She nodded. ‘There are loads of cafés round here. Or...’

      ‘It’s okay. I have it covered. Come on.’

      Within seconds of leaving the lobby Rafael’s loaned car glided to a halt in front of them. The chauffeur climbed out and opened the car door for Ruby, who slid inside with a puzzled look.

      ‘Why didn’t you drive your own car?’ she asked.

      ‘Actually, Rafael lent me his helicopter, as well as Robert and this car, to meet me on arrival.’

      ‘You flew here from Cornwall?’ Her eyes widened and a half-laugh dropped from her lips. ‘Why?’

      Ethan shrugged. ‘Impulse. I needed to see you. To apologise and...’

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘Apologise for what?’

       Here goes.

      Time to put himself on the line. Along with some emotional honesty. ‘For my reactions. I panicked. Just like I did ten years ago. I’ve been alone a long time; the only person who has ever got close has been you. Ten years ago I ran. I told myself I did it for you, because I could see that you had developed a misguided crush on me, but in reality I panicked.’

      ‘And this time?’ The question was soft, almost tentative.

      Clenching his hands round his knees, he hauled in breath. ‘This time I don’t want to run, and I don’t want you to run. For ten years I have avoided emotion, locked it down because I associated emotion with bad choices, rejection and tragedy. I decided to channel my anger and use it to create momentum—to build Caversham into something bigger and bigger, to allow me to do good via charitable efforts.’

      ‘And you succeeded—you turned your life around.’

      A twist of her body and she faced him now, her face illuminated in the dusky light of the limo’s interior, her cinnamon scent whirling in his head.

      ‘You should be proud of that.’

      ‘I am. But the whole time I have been scared of emotion, scared of rocking the boat, because I thought my whole new life would tumble down. These past few weeks you have shown me that doesn’t


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