All He Wants For Christmas...: Flirting With Intent / Blame it on the Bikini / Restless. Kelly HunterЧитать онлайн книгу.
and the one that had followed, had given him travel, a reason for being, and all the excitement he could handle and then some. All they’d asked from him in return was absolute discretion and a willingness to go anywhere, any time.
At twenty, he thought he’d found heaven.
At twenty-five he knew he had.
He would be thirty-three in January and as he headed back to his father’s apartment with the scent of Ruby Maguire on his skin and the image of her naked and open for him dominating his mind, Damon West took the time to mourn the loss of the ordinary lifestyle he’d so willingly given up.
CHRISTMAS Day started late for Ruby. Nowhere to be, no reason to get up. The two gifts beneath her tiny tree were ones she’d put there herself. A book on humanitarian imperialism—that one was supposedly from the cat. The other was a bottle of her favourite perfume. A light and woodsy scent to lift the spirits and brighten the day.
A Merry Christmas phone call came in from her mother before Ruby had found her way out of her sleepwear. A mother who sounded happy and content and who urged Ruby to come and stay a while in the New Year. A mother who asked if the courier had arrived yet, and sighed her exasperation when Ruby said not.
Ruby promised to ring back when they had.
A sashimi breakfast feast for a contented little cat followed. Freshly brewed coffee for Ruby and a butter croissant with fig and honey jam got her positively cheerful. The gourmet food hamper and the ridiculous peacock-feathered hair comb from her mother made her smile. Shoulders back, Ruby, she could hear her mother saying. Chin up, there’s my pretty girl.
It had been very important to her mother that Ruby be a pretty girl.
Her father had been the one to encourage her to use her brains.
Ruby’s mother had wanted to share custody of their only child once divorce had been imminent but, for reasons known only to him, Harry Maguire had been having none of that.
In the end Ruby’s mother had taken the settlement money and run, leaving her daughter behind with the promise that she was always just a phone call away.
Better than nothing.
Better than a laughing, smiling father who’d disappeared one day without a word but plenty of money to be going on with.
Ruby had bought him a set of pewter chess pieces for Christmas this year—how stupid was that? The gaily wrapped parcel was burning a hole through the shelf in her bedroom closet and the child in her remained hopeful that her father would contact her today. The child in her would doubtless wait all day for her charming, laughing father to arrive. Foolish Ruby.
Only a silly, hopeful child would put on a pretty azure sun frock and blow-dry her hair and pin it back with a peacock-feathered comb and make sure she had her father’s favourite Scotch on hand and his favourite food in the fridge, and then sit on the lounge reading her book while she waited for Godot to arrive.
Part of her knew he wouldn’t come.
But another part waited and waited some more.
The day loomed empty ahead of her, with nothing to do except wonder whether Poppy and Lena had liked their gifts and whether Damon liked his.
She’d shopped again on his father’s behalf seeing as he’d taken to wearing the clothes they’d bought the other day. A lightweight travel bag that would be useless to anyone with more than a single change of clothes, and in one compartment she’d added a couple of pairs of the plainest no-name underwear she could find, and in the main compartment she’d placed a Panama hat. Everything the modern happy wanderer would ever need.
It was Lena who phoned through to thank Ruby for her gift-buying efforts, but it was Damon who got hold of the phone after that.
‘Merry Christmas, Ruby.’ Damon’s voice came through smoothly polite. ‘Your touch is everywhere here today—and we wanted to thank you for it.’
‘Have the caterers been in?’
‘In and gone, with a week’s worth of leftovers in the fridge,’ said Damon. ‘Which is no reflection whatsoever on the quality of the food. The food was fantastic.’
‘And your sisters liked the clothes?’
‘They did. Now Lena’s heading to her room for a nap, my father’s heading to the study to disguise his nap as a work effort, Poppy’s just started watching It’s A Wonderful Life and I’m about to head out for a while.’
‘Where?’
‘Anywhere. Why? You looking for something to do?’
‘What, and miss out on It’s A Wonderful Life?’
‘How many times have you seen it before?
Trust me, you know how it goes. Downtrodden man reflects on his life, realises how many people depend on him and decides not to top himself. The End. And then you cry.’
‘Still not sure we’re living in the same universe, my friend,’ said the woman who’d just started a fiercely competitive chess game with a half-grown cat. ‘What sort of counter offer do you have in mind?’
‘A walk. Just to get some air. Doesn’t necessarily have to be fresh.’
‘Good thing too, this being the city,’ she murmured. ‘Chater Garden’s not that far from you. There’s greenery, topiary, a water feature or two … Ignore the concrete.’
‘Sounds like I need a guide.’
‘You really don’t,’ she said, smiling.
‘But what if I want a guide?’
‘Tell you what,’ she said, feeling generous. ‘What say I meet you at Chater Garden in half an hour? I’ll be the one wearing the peacock feather in her hair.’
‘One of these days I’ll ask you why,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll be the one in the Panama hat.’
Damon didn’t know what had possessed him to seek out Ruby Maguire again today. Last night had been enough, more than enough to let him know that he should leave this one alone. Not for him a woman who could strip him bare. Never for him a woman who could access the secrets he kept in his soul.
Restlessness plagued him as he made his way to the park.
Tension rode him as he tried to figure out exactly what he would say to the woman who’d gifted him with something special last night. Maybe the words whatever you gave to me, take it back would be enough.
Just a walk in the park with a pretty woman on his arm and a burning desire to let her know that last night had been nothing more than a pleasant Christmas Eve diversion. That it didn’t grant him any hold on her, or her on him. He wasn’t sure he’d spelled that out last night.
He had a feeling he’d lost track of that particular notion around about the time he and Ruby had found themselves alone in the limo.
No regrets—he knew they’d covered that one.
But no promises? What exactly had he promised her last night that he shouldn’t have? What had he given away?
Information? Of a certainty he’d revealed more than enough about his work, and he knew it, but he’d stopped, hadn’t he? She knew his limits in that regard. She’d accepted them.
Had he revealed his total inexperience when it came to letting someone see him, really see him, for what he was? He probably had. Didn’t mean he planned on doing it again in a hurry.
What else had he revealed in the back of that limo? A propensity for getting lost in passion? Well, if he had, Ruby had of a surety revealed the same. No crime there.
So