The pendant glittered, diamonds on white gold, shaped into an exquisite simple star. When he’d seen it an image of Ruby as she’d handed him the star to adorn the Christmas tree had popped into his mind.
‘Ethan. I... I...can’t accept this. It’s not right. It’s...’
‘It’s yours.’
Though by ‘not right’ maybe she meant she didn’t like it...
An image of his mother that terrible first Christmas after Tanya’s death flashed across his mind. Her wooden expression as she opened his gifts. The sear of knowledge that he’d got it wrong. That without Tanya he meant nothing to her, couldn’t get it right. All those hours spent agonising for naught.
Maybe he should have learnt—stuck to something generic for Ruby. Better yet, he should have given her a Christmas bonus—a cheque, a banker’s draft. Going personal had been a mistake. Ethan Caversham didn’t do personal.
‘You can exchange it if need be.’
‘Exchange it?’ she echoed. ‘Why would I do that? It’s beautiful. I meant it’s too much.’
‘It’s a gift, Ruby.’ It occurred to him that she was no more used to gifts than he was. ‘I want you to have it.’
‘Then thank you.’
As she took it from the box he thought for an instant that she would ask his help to put it on. Relief warred with disappointment when she lifted it herself—the thought of his fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her neck had strummed a jolt of pure desire through him.
‘Now open yours.’
An absurd sense of excitement threaded his gut as he unwrapped the first gift, the bright paper covered in images of Father Christmas bringing a smile to his lips. It was a smile that grew as warmth touched his chest.
In his hands was a painting of Caversham Castle. The artist had captured the sheer brooding history of the craggy mound of medieval stone, imposing and grand, made to defend and dominate the landscape.
‘It’s perfect. Thank you.’
‘Open the next one.’ A small frown creased her forehead. ‘Like I said, this was an impulse buy and if you don’t like it I won’t be offended...’
As he pulled the jumper out of its silver wrapping paper a chuckle fell from his lips. ‘A Christmas jumper.’ A cable knit in dark blue, it was patterned with reindeer. ‘It’s inspired—and what better time to wear it?’
‘You mean it?’
Surprise and a smile illuminated her face, and for one heartbeat full of exhilaration he nearly succumbed to the temptation to sweep her into his arms and kiss her.
No! There was personal and there was personal.
Instead he tugged the jumper over his head ‘Of course. Now, let’s go!’
A few minutes later and they were all layered up. Once outside, Ethan sucked in the cold air; welcomed the hit to his lungs and brain. Perhaps the cold would freeze some sense into him.
RUBY STOLE A sideways glance at Ethan and tried to confine the tornado of her thoughts. Yeah, right. Containment continued to elude her, effectively held at bay by the sheer nearness of Ethan as they settled under the heap of blankets on the carriage seat. Ruby clenched her jaw—she would not even contemplate the word snuggle.
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