Kelly Hunter

All He Wants For Christmas...


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you need from me. If I have it, it’s yours. No seduction required. No more pretty lies. I am so sick of lies.’

      Her eyes were like bruises and they got to him more than he cared to admit.

      ‘I’m not SIS, and I swear—on my father’s honour—that I’m not hunting your father, or the money he stole, or anything else related to him or to you. Look at me,’ he commanded softly and waited until she did. ‘I’m here for Christmas with my family, that’s all. No hidden agenda, Ruby. None.’

      ‘Oh, hell,’ she murmured, and looked around the shopping centre, blinking fast as if holding back tears. ‘I’m sorry. I thought …

      It felt …’

      ‘Like you were being played. You were, but not with nefarious intent.’ She’d wanted the truth from him and he gave her what he could. ‘I thought you could handle yourself. I thought you could handle me. Maybe I’m not all I seem to be, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’m not the kind of man Ruby Maguire needs to have around her right now. I’ll give you that too. I didn’t know that earlier. Now I do. No more playing with Ruby, see?’ He took a careful step back to emphasise his words. ‘No harm done.’

      ‘I’m sorry, I … You must think I’m a paranoid nutter,’ she muttered, setting her shopping bags down so she could slide her headband off, shake her curls free and put it back on again. Busywork for her hands while she looked anywhere but at him.

      ‘It’s not wrong to be careful of other people, Ruby. I would be too, were I in your position.’ He let her collect her composure. He looked at the nearest retail store, seeking distraction and finding it. ‘I’m thinking I might need some casual wear,’ he offered. ‘As a Christmas gift from my father to me.

      They sell that kind of menswear around here, right?’

      ‘Right,’ she said and took a deep breath.

      ‘Can we bypass the polo shirts though?’

      ‘Good call,’ she murmured. ‘I’m betting upscale grunge is far more you. I’m thinking jeans to start with and we’ll improvise from there. How are you off for underclothes?’ She rallied fast, did Ruby Maguire, and Damon’s admiration for her rose a notch.

      ‘Do they have a brand name plastered all over them?’

      ‘Only on the band.’

      ‘In that case, I don’t want any. I prefer my underwear anonymous.’

      ‘Of course you do,’ she murmured soothingly. ‘I should have guessed. Would you like any help with your clothing selection, or shall I just wait?’

      ‘I want your help. Whatever it was you did in the other store, do that,’ he added. ‘Only faster.’

      Half an hour later Ruby had Damon outfitted in clothes that might even find their way into his travel bag, and relative amicability had been restored. Ruby had more shopping to do but none that required Damon’s assistance.

      Damon had more shopping to do too, and he definitely didn’t need assistance. Ruby had agreed to drop him off at the Golden Computer Shopping Centre in Kowloon. Damon would find his own way back to the apartment. Too easy.

      ‘Mind the scams,’ she said as they loaded up her car with his father’s purchases.

      ‘I shall enjoy them immensely,’ he murmured and she shot him a perplexed glance. ‘I’m only browsing, Ruby. Seeing what’s new and improved or old and abused. I do it every time I come to Hong Kong.’

      ‘So … you really do work with computers?’

      Damon nodded. Not a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. Ruby headed for the driver’s seat. Damon to the passenger side.

      ‘Is there any particular type of food or beverage you’d like me to stock the apartment with?’ she asked as they filled the car with shopping bags and then themselves. ‘Your favourites? Your sisters’ favourites?’

      ‘Lena likes a good Sauvignon Blanc, Poppy loves lychees and I’m a sucker for crispy duck in pancake pockets with all the trimmings. No one’s all that keen on a-thou-sand-year-old eggs, shark-fin soup, turtle jelly, or chicken-feet anything.’

      ‘Not a problem. I’ll steer clear of the swallow’s nest tonics and imported Japanese blowfish too. And, Damon?’

      The seriousness was back in her voice.

      ‘I’m really sorry about our earlier misunderstanding.’

      ‘Don’t be,’ he said gently. ‘I’ve forgotten it already.’

      Ruby hit the grocery stores after that. White wine, fresh fruit—including lychees—and crispy duck with all the trimmings. Snack food for Russell’s fridge that she took back to the apartment immediately in the hope that Damon would still be out. He wasn’t.

      ‘You shop too fast,’ she said as she downed her numerous shopping bags, opened the coat cupboard and slipped out of her high heels and into her flats. He’d taken his jacket off and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

      If a sexier version of manhood existed, Ruby hadn’t seen it.

      ‘Dare I suggest that you shop too much?’ he countered as he closed the door behind her and picked up the shopping bags.

      Now she’d seen it.

      ‘I smell food,’ he said.

      ‘It’s crispy duck. I was going to put it in the fridge for later.’

      ‘Ruby, you spoil me.’ Damon’s grin became boyishly delighted.

      ‘It’s Christmas.’

      ‘It’s great.’

      Ruby watched as Damon set the bags down next to the bench and found the one with his favourite food in it. Man and his stomach. Always the same, no matter what his pay grade. ‘It’s still hot,’ he said.

      ‘The restaurant’s only a block away. If you like the food I’ll give you their number.’ Ruby started on the unpacking. The sooner she did her job, the sooner she could leave. Leaving was preferable to being around Damon. Damon called forth feelings she didn’t want any part of. Starting with desire for a man who kept far too many secrets. ‘Pretend I’m not here,’ she told him.

      ‘But you are here.’

      ‘Then think of me as the hired help.’

      ‘Of course.’ He gestured towards the takeaway containers he’d lined up on the counter. ‘Want some?’

      Ruby rolled her eyes and kept right on unpacking. Fruit for the fruit bowl by way of a water rinse. She found the colander and started washing grapes. A grape escaped her and rolled across the counter towards him. He stopped it, ate it, and Ruby’s gaze slid helplessly to his lips. Not good.

      ‘Does my father treat you like an employee?’ he murmured. ‘Why wouldn’t he?’ ‘Just curious.’

      ‘Whatever you’re thinking just say it,’ she said darkly.

      ‘I was thinking that I can see now why plenty of people wouldn’t want to employ you. If there were women around you’d outclass them. Husbands around and you’d captivate them. Furthermore, I’m willing to bet that my father treats you more like a daughter than an employee.’

      ‘I think it’s because he met me a couple of times as a child. I’m trying to break him of the habit.’

      ‘There it is,’ he said softly. ‘The reason you’ll never make a good underling. You’re too regal. Taking charge comes as automatically to you as breathing.’

      ‘So?’ For some reason his words wounded her.

      ‘It’s not a criticism, Ruby. I’m just saying that asking me to treat you like the hired help is all well and good but it’s never going to happen. You’re