Ruby took a slice of the rich black treacle, brown sugar and ginger treat and placed it on a plate. But then, suddenly self-conscious about eating in front of him, especially as he wasn’t indulging, she put the plate to one side.
He frowned again. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ll save it for later.’
He made a soft sound of impatience and placed his cup back on the table. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Eat it. Isn’t it your favourite?’
‘Yes, and that’s why I’d better not eat it. I won’t be able to stop at one slice.’
One side of his mouth lifted in an indulgent-looking half-smile. It took years off his face and made him seem less brooding and intimidating. ‘I thought you’d learned your lesson about overindulging?’
There was a mocking note in his tone that made her squirm in her chair. Ruby could feel a hot blush crawling over her cheeks and buried her face in her teacup, taking a sip or two before changing the subject.
‘I have a favour to ask.’
She put the cup and saucer down, and was annoyed she couldn’t control the tiny rattle of crockery. It betrayed her nerves, as if she was still that gauche, hero-worshipping, knobbly-kneed schoolgirl.
‘I have a celebrity client who wants to get married in Yorkshire and—’
‘No.’ The flatly delivered negative cut through the air like a gunshot and his expression closed like a shutter slamming.
‘But you haven’t let me finish—’
Lucas put his cup on the table, rose from his chair and moved back to stand in front of the windows, his back turned towards her again. ‘It’s out of the question.’
The intractable edge to his tone sent a ripple of anger through her. Shehadto sell the proposal to him. So much depended on her securing Rothwell Park as a wedding venue. Her business partners were depending on her to nail this location for their client. She couldn’t let them down. Harper and Aerin were her family now. Failure wasn’t an option. Failing was what her mother did, not her. Ruby set goals and achieved them. She made plans and carried them out. She made promises she delivered on without fail.
‘But why?’
Lucas gave a grunt of humourless laughter. ‘You mean apart from me loathing weddings?’
Ruby let out a gusty sigh. ‘Not all weddings are like your parents’ ones. I mean, not many couples get married to and divorced from each other three times.’
He turned around to face her, his expression etched in intractable lines. ‘You’re wasting your time, Ruby. I won’t budge on this.’
And there she was thinking her grandmother was stubborn. Lucas took obstinacy to a whole new level. Seriously, he made the most obstinate mule look like a pushover.
‘But Rothwell Park is the perfect setting for a wedding. There’s so much space and the huge kitchen is a dream to work in. My friend Harper is desperate to photograph the wedding here. The gothic setting really appeals to her. Remember you met her once when she came to visit me here? We met in care. And the wedding planner, Aerin, will organise everything, so there’s nothing you’ll have to do. She’s such a perfectionist—nothing will be left to chance. You wouldn’t even have to be here. I’ll bring my catering team in a few days early to set up. Please, Lucas, at least think about it before you say—’
‘No.’
Ruby sprang from her chair, almost knocking the tea tray off the table. She stood in front of him with her hands balled into tight fists, anger stiffening her spine and frustration heating her cheeks. She couldn’t let him stand in the way of her goal. She couldn’t let him thwart her carefully, meticulously laid-out plans. She couldn’t allow him to make her break her promise to her friends and their celebrity client. The weddinghadto go ahead. She would find a way to convince him, even if it took longer than the weekend.
She. Could. Not. Fail.
‘I can’t believe you’re being so unfair. This wedding is the biggest we’ve ever done and it will boost our profile so much. All those rooms are lying vacant upstairs. We could house all the guests—some of them very important people. Do you realise the revenue we could raise from this? It’s a dream come true for—’
Lucas turned back to the bleak view of the brooding sky. ‘Please leave.’
‘No. I willnotdamn well leave.’
Before she could stop herself, Ruby placed one of her hands on his arm to force him to face her. He jolted as if she had touched him with a live wire. A tingling sensation travelled along the length of her own arm and she was acutely conscious of the firm male muscles tensing under her hold.
She couldn’t recall touching him since that awful night when she was sixteen. But the electric sensation was exactly the same. A strange fizzing energy that sent tiny buzzing pulses along the network of her nerves. She was standing so close to his imposing height it sent her heart into a crazy hit-and-miss rhythm. The citrus and woodsy notes of his aftershave teased her senses into a stupor. Although he clearly hadn’t shaved for a week, possibly more, and the rich dark stubble peppering his strong jaw and growing around his sculpted mouth gave him a rakish look.
Eek! Why had she looked at his mouth?
The top lip was slightly thinner than the bottom, their vermilion borders and the philtrum ridge between his nose and top lip so well defined they could have been carved by Michelangelo. It was a mouth that had inspired many a teenage fantasy. And all these years later Ruby still wondered what those firm lips would feel like against her own. Hard and insistent? Soft and sensually persuasive? Or something irresistibly in between?