Chapter Four #2
He dug his fingers into his shoulder blade.
Yes, there was a problem! He ached to brush his fingers through her hair, burnished by the chandelier, to see if it was as soft as he recalled.
Press his lips against her glistening ones to see if she tasted as good as his memory insisted.
Instead, he tore his gaze away from hers, cleared his throat and refilled their teacups.
He. Would. Not. Be. Distracted.
‘Not at all,’ he said after giving himself a mental uppercut and getting back to the matter at hand.
She gave a small nod. ‘Let’s start with the obvious. What would be your number one idea?’ Ivy asked.
Instinctively he opened his mouth to say turn it into a hotel except suddenly it felt wrong. Instead he pressed his lips together.
‘You don’t know? Or you don’t want to tell me? It’s hardly in the spirit of what we need to do.’ A flash of hurt crossed Ivy’s face, quickly replaced by anger.
‘A hotel,’ he responded with an assurance that was far from real.
His original idea had been to turn WillowGlen, combining all the skills he’d learnt over the years, into the best luxury hotel in the world.
Not for any accolades, but rather to honour Ruby’s cherished home and fill it with people, just as she’d loved.
But the thought soured for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp.
‘Okay. Do you see yourself living here?’ she probed.
‘I…’ But once again he couldn’t finish his thought and shrugged noncommittally, unable to articulate his hesitation.
Ivy huffed her impatience. ‘Where’s your permanent home, or homes?’
‘I don’t have one.’
‘You don’t? So where do you live?’ Surprise drew out her Australian accent.
‘I live in my hotels while they’re being built, then once completed, I move to the next one.’
‘You don’t have a permanent base?’ she repeated, her confusion clear. ‘I didn’t realise. Since when?’
‘Since I lived here.’
‘Oh, Ethan, this is your home.’ Compassion and confusion coloured her voice.
‘Ivy, no… It was only ever home because of Ruby,’ he said in attempt to alleviate her obvious distress, making him want to reach out and hold her, tell her it would be okay. Not to worry about him.
He prevented a snort of disgust. Reach out and hold her? Yeah, that would really help. She’d be disgusted, and he’d be rammed up against her softness, enveloped in her mind-losing scent.
He. Would. Not. Be. Distracted.
With great effort he turned his attention back to WillowGlen. He loved it, always had, because of Ruby. But he couldn’t contemplate living anywhere permanently, not even here. It was a lifestyle choice he’d made when growing up, and he saw no reason to ever change it.
Ivy gnawed on her lip with a flash of white teeth and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Everything she did seemed to elicit a visceral response.
‘We’ll still list it as an option. You might change your mind, and at this stage let’s put everything on the table.’
A totally inappropriate image took hold, of her spread on the table, skirt pushed up, dark hair a halo. His body surged; he’d lean over and run his…
He was losing his mind.
He gripped the back of his neck so tightly he was amazed any blood made it to his head. ‘Okay,’ he said, sounding only slightly strangled. ‘What about you? You live in LA, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she answered without an ounce of enthusiasm. Ethan prevented a shiver; he hadn’t been back to the City of Angels since his parents’ deaths. Would never go back.
‘Any other homes?’ he asked in a desperate need to distract himself from the memories.
‘None.’ Bleakness flooded her voice and she momentarily glanced away.
‘Do you have any desire to live here permanently or semi-permanently?’ he asked softly, instinctively responding to her discomfort.
‘I wasn’t thinking along those lines.’ She plucked at the V-neck of her dress, then seemed to realise she was doing it and stopped.
‘I’ll include it. It doesn’t mean I’d agree, but we are listing everything,’ he reminded her.
She looked over at him, surprised, and something flickered across her face. Slowly, her whole demeanour altered before she twirled a red-tipped finger through her hair and pouted.
‘Why thank you, Ethan,’ she practically purred, Ivy Flame in full force. ‘I’ve had enough for today. Let’s finish discussing it tomorrow.’
Disconcerted and disgusted at the sudden change, Ethan gave himself a mental shake and remembered what his focus was.
Ruby and WillowGlen. Absolutely nothing else, certainly not someone who stepped into a role whenever it suited her, just like his mother had.
He refused to dwell on what was real and what was acting; he didn’t care, and it didn’t matter.
* * *
Later that day, Ethan drove into the village he’d known so well as a child.
Past the tree that he, Luc and Cam had raced their bikes to; the café where they’d come to spend their pocket money on milkshakes—and later, to check out the local girls; and the park where he’d experienced his first teenage kiss.
For the first couple of years, he’d never ventured outside of WillowGlen to the village, the paps still following him until it became apparent the villagers wouldn’t stand for it.
Ruby had been held in such esteem locally, and by extension Ethan, so they’d closed ranks around him and drove out any who’d dared venture.
They’d protected their own. Even now, the locals enjoyed regaling him with stories of how they’d outwitted the paps.
Ethan’s heart swelled with gratitude but crashed back to reality remembering the one exception, courtesy of Ivy.
His jaw clenched. Ivy. It all came back to her.
He’d called Luc and Cam to fill them in on the Will, and they’d both been as surprised and dismayed as he was at the terms. But they’d adored Ruby and understood why Ethan had agreed to her wishes.
He’d asked Ruby, at the end of his second year at boarding school, if Cam and Luc could visit.
She’d readily agreed. And once she’d realised they never went home for the holidays, they’d been invited every school break, until they’d all graduated. Always welcome, always wanted.
Just like him. He owed Ruby so much, which was the only thing that made the coming weeks bearable.
Parking his sports car in front of the supermarket, which didn’t look like it had changed at all, he grabbed a rickety trolley and walked the aisles—something his team would no doubt find hilarious.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t fend for himself—he could—but still, this was not his usual Wednesday afternoon activity.
Nostalgia hit hard, reminding him of the times they’d been sent here on an errand, real or invented, as a means of keeping three active and competitive boys occupied.
Filling the trolley with the wide variety of goods Ivy had requested, he realised that, despite his stereotypical assumptions based on his mother’s fanatical diets, none of their upcoming meals would be excessively low fat nor bland.
He grabbed the ingredients for Spaghetti Alla E, his never-fail signature dish. He certainly wouldn’t expect Ivy to cook every night, even if she’d insisted she wanted to.
A familiar face caught his attention. Ivy, pictured alongside Ben, was splashed across the front of numerous tabloids.
He knew better than to believe their lies, but still he scanned them in mounting anger as he dismissed the headlines and homed in on the photos taken yesterday at Heathrow.
The American, Ben Price, had arrived in England alone.
Despite his bone-deep mistrust of Ivy, Ethan believed her when she’d said that they were no longer together. What then was Ben doing in England? Trying to get her back?
He grimaced, imagining Ben succeeding. Picturing that scumbag anywhere near Ivy.
Not that it was any of his business who she chose to date, but something hot and unsettling roared through him at the thought of them getting back together.
Ever being together. Of Ben being the one to make her laugh, seeing her tousled and sleepy as she drank her morning coffee, baking him biscuits.
He tugged at the neck of his jumper, which was suddenly too tight, as he tried to fight off the foreign feeling assailing him. Was it jealousy? Never! He didn’t do that, and certainly not in relation to Ivy. She wasn’t his. She was nothing to do with him. Other than in relation to WillowGlen.
That was it! Relieved, he rocked back on his heels and reasoned he was so off balance and furious because he didn’t want Ben anywhere near WillowGlen.
He snatched up a handful of the newspapers. If Ben thought he could come and visit or stay, he could think again; it would never happen on Ethan’s watch. Ever.