The By Request Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
his expression as he shifted from foot to foot. ‘Come on—open it.’
Unhooking the stocking, Ruby sank onto the cushioned sofa and dived her hand inside. Pulled out a heart-shaped box of chocolates, a gorgeous bath bomb that exuded lavender and chamomile, a pair of fluffy woolly socks... And then, nestled in the toe, her questing fingers found a box.
Heart pounding, mouth parched, she tugged it out and opened it. Inside was a ring—a glorious cluster of sapphires and diamonds.
‘Sapphires to match the sparkle of your eyes,’ Ethan said. ‘Diamonds because diamonds are for ever. Will you marry me, Ruby?’
‘Yes.’ The assent dropped from her lips and happiness blanketed her as he slid the ring onto her finger. ‘It’s so beautiful.’
‘Not as beautiful as you. Now, look up.’
There above them was a sprig of mistletoe, and as Ethan’s lips covered hers she knew that her happiness was complete. They would sail their boat together over the horizon, into a life that would hold ups and downs, rain and sunshine. But she knew with all her heart that their love would ride every swell, weather every storm and bask in each ray of happiness.
The Caversham Castle Ball
RUBY FELT AS if she were walking, floating, dancing on air as she greeted each and every guest at the ball. Time seemed spun with the shining threads of pure happiness as she rested her gaze on Ethan, listened to his speech—his words powerful, emotive and drenched with compassionate belief in his cause.
‘He’s a good man.’
Ruby turned to see Cora Brookes by her side.
‘He is.’
Instinctively she looked down at her left hand, even though she and Ethan had decided to keep their engagement under wraps until the end of the ball. Ruby had insisted that the ball was about fundraising—she didn’t want to dilute the impact in any way.
They watched as Ethan introduced Rafael and the tall, dark-haired man took the podium; his aristocratic lips upturned in a captivating smile—within minutes he had them riveted by his words as the bids climbed to outrageous heights.
Cora gazed at him. ‘He has the charm of the devil,’ she murmured under her breath.
‘He’s putting it to a good cause.’
‘Men like Rafael Martinez only have one cause—their own.’ A strand of bitterness tinged Cora’s tone. ‘I’m surprised he and Ethan are so close.’
Ruby frowned. ‘Ethan sees the good in everyone, and he is a great believer in second chances. Plus, you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers. Trust me on that. Unless, of course, you know Rafael?’
Cora hesitated. ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘I don’t.’ A perfunctory smile and then she gestured towards the door. ‘I’ll go and check the champagne is ready for midnight.’
Ruby turned as Ethan headed towards her.
‘All okay, sweetheart?’ he asked. ‘Why the frown?’
‘I was just wondering why Cora doesn’t like Rafael...’
‘Lots of people don’t like Rafael. But he has his good points. Or at least I hope he does. He and I have decided to invest in a business venture together. Spanish vineyard holidays.’
‘Maybe we could honeymoon in Spain?’
Ethan shook his head, his expression serious. ‘We are not going on a working honeymoon, my love. I have way better plans than that, I promise you.’
‘I can hardly wait.’
He grinned down at her—a smile that lit his face—and his blue-grey eyes were flecked with a love that stole her breath.
‘I think Rafael has everyone’s attention,’ he murmured. ‘So let me snag us a glass of champagne... I want to toast our future under the stars.’
And as he twined his strong hand in hers Ruby basked in the healing lessons learnt from the past, the wondrous glow of joy of the present, and the glorious promise of the future.
* * * * *
Jessica Gilmore
For Charlotte and Flo
Charlotte for so selflessly allowing me to pillage her
commuting woes and for being such a brilliant
sounding board, co-plotter, and very patient
(and talented) editor.
Flo for making ‘The Call’ that changed everything, for
guiding me so patiently through the whole publishing
process, and for being a fab co-presenter extraordinaire
and late-night wine-drinking companion.
Thank you both x
‘A GLASS OF white wine and make it a large one.’ Flora sank onto the low leather seat and slumped forward, banging her forehead against the distressed oak table a couple of times. She sat back up and slouched back in her chair. ‘Please,’ she added, catching a quizzical gleam in Alex’s eyes.
‘Bad day?’ He held up a hand and just like that the waiter glided effortlessly through the crowds of office-Christmas-party escapees and Friday-night drinkers towards their table, tucked away in the corner as far from the excited pre-Christmas hubbub as they could manage. Flora could have waved in the waiter’s general direction for an hour and he would have ignored her the whole time but Alex had the knack of procuring service with just a lift of a brow; taxis, waiters, upgrades on flights. It was most unfair.
What was it about Alex that made people—especially women—look twice? His messy curls were more russet than brown, his eyes undecided between green and grey and freckles liberally splattered his slightly crooked nose. And yet the parts added up to a whole that went a long way beyond plain attractive.
But then Alex was charmed—while Flora’s fairy godmother must have been down with the flu on the day her gifts were handed out. Flora waited not too patiently, ready to finish her tale of woe, while Alex ordered their drinks. A humiliation shared was a humiliation halved, right?
Finally the waiter turned away and she could launch back in. ‘Bad day I could cope with but it’s been a bad week. I think I’m actually cursed. Monday was the office manager’s birthday and she brought in doughnuts. I bit into mine and splat. Raspberry jam right down the front of my blouse. Of course it was my nicest white silk,’ she added bitterly.
‘Poor Flora.’ His mouth tilted with amusement and she glared at him. He was still in his work suit and yet looked completely fresh. Yep, unfairly charmed in ways that were completely wasted on a male. Flora’s seasonally green wool dress was stain free today but she still had that slightly sticky, crumpled, straight-from-work feel and was pretty sure it showed...
‘And then yesterday I left work with my skirt tucked into my knickers. No, don’t laugh.’ She reached across the table and prodded him, his chest firm under her fingers. ‘I didn’t realise for at least five minutes and...’ this was the worst part; her voice sank in shame ‘...I wasn’t even wearing nice knickers. Thank goodness for fifteen-denier tights.’
Alex visibly struggled to keep a straight face. ‘Maybe nobody noticed. It’s winter,