The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta (7 page)

‘Do you mind if I take my shoes off?’ she said, distracting him from his thoughts as she pulled a comic face. ‘I’ll keep my feet under the table so you don’t have to look at them—’

He laughed as she kicked the expensive shoes he’d bought her into touch.

She watched Ruiz greet acquaintances with a casual wave. He knew a lot of people in London, or, rather, a lot of people knew Ruiz, Holly amended, and they all seemed inordinately pleased if he noticed them. Perhaps it was she who needed a wake-up call, Holly reflected. Ruiz was an international sportsman and highly respected—

‘Are you okay?’ Ruiz prompted.

‘Of course.’

‘I want you to enjoy yourself.’

‘I’m sure I shall.’ She thought about Ruiz’s comment regarding entertaining friends of the family and hoped she wasn’t keeping him from his own friends. ‘It’s very good of you to bring me here,’ she said politely.

Ruiz gave her a quizzical look. ‘It’s very good of you to come with me.’

Was it? Even in jeans and a crisp white shirt Ruiz looked amazing and exuded class, while Holly was increasingly aware of buying something just because it was in the sale that really didn’t suit her and that was now clinging unattractively to her bargain-basement body.

‘Would you like to dance?’ Ruiz suggested.

‘With you?’

‘Were you thinking of dancing with someone else?’ he queried with a sultry growl.

‘In front of everyone?’

‘That is the usual way.’

‘Won’t people talk? So many people seem to know who you are.’

‘And if they do?’

‘I don’t want you to be unmasked,’ Holly whispered dramatically, thinking she had found the perfect excuse not to dance with the playboy in public.

‘Do they give you a byline on the Playboy column these days?’ Ruiz asked innocently.

‘No, of course they don’t put my name on the column. I’m part of a team—’

Stop!
Stop Talking NOW, Holly’s inner voice advised, before you dig the hole any deeper. Of course no one knew who she was. She was just another of Ruiz’s many female friends as far as the people at the club were concerned. ‘Shall we chat and eat first?’ she suggested, red-faced.

For a moment she thought Ruiz would argue and insist on dancing, but he just said, ‘Whatever you like,’ and picked up the menu.

And now she was disappointed. A hemp sack and a bowl of lentils was pretty much what she deserved, Holly concluded. Burying her head in the menu, she mentally revisited the conversation where Ruiz had made it clear that this evening was all about entertaining his sister’s friend.

‘Are you going to relax any time soon, Holly?’

She looked up. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a bit overwhelmed by all this.’

‘All this?’

‘I feel a bit out of place here, to be honest.’ Whereas Ruiz was so confident and so good-looking he was at ease anywhere.

‘Out of place? Why should you say that? I can’t think of anyone who deserves a night off more than you do, Holly. Since the moment I met you, you’ve been working all hours.’

‘But all these people are so—’ She snatched a breath as Ruiz’s hand touched her arm.

‘Choose something to eat,’ he prompted.

Studying the menu, and actually reading it this time, Holly gulped when she saw the prices. When the waiter arrived to take their order she told him that a starter-sized salad would be enough for her. Shaking his head, Ruiz countermanded that idea and ordered for her. ‘You don’t have to eat what I’ve ordered for you,’ he explained, ‘but if you’re going to continue working at the pace you do, one lettuce leaf and a spoonful of dressing isn’t enough to keep you going.’

Ruiz’s amused glance lasted a little longer this time and as she held it something told Holly that if she could relax they might be friends. After all, Ruiz was her best friend’s brother, and she loved Lucia …

The meal Ruiz had ordered for Holly was delicious. He had chosen perfectly. The most delicious halibut she had ever tasted came with side orders of buttered spinach, roasted tomatoes, and creamy mashed potatoes. Ruiz devoured an epic steak, and after the meal they drank strong, aromatic coffee as they watched professional dancers giving an eye-popping demonstration of how the samba should be danced. Surely, Ruiz couldn’t expect her to do that? Holly thought, imagining how she might interpret the hip grinding and pelvic thrusting, which the professional dancers managed to turn into something so erotic, and yet so stylish. It might look rather different if she took to the floor. And then there were the outfits. The woman’s costume was glittery and filmy, barely a whisper of aquamarine chiffon decorated with diamanté, while the man’s black trousers might have been sprayed on—

‘And now we dance,’ Ruiz announced when the applause had died down.

‘I don’t think so,’ Holly protested, sitting deeper in her chair.

Ruiz gave her no option. Making her gasp as he lifted her out of the seat, he lowered her onto a dance floor crowded with couples only too eager to show what they could do. ‘You can’t force me,’ Holly protested, turning to go.

‘And you can’t resist the music.’ He brought her back again.

Short of drawing attention to herself, she had no option but to go through the motions of dancing one samba, Holly concluded. She was just gearing herself up to do this when another man, crowned with the same menacing glamour as Ruiz, strode up to them. Swinging a welcoming arm around Ruiz’s shoulders, he exclaimed, ‘Hello, my friend. Long time no see.’ His gaze remained fixed on Holly’s face—assessing and no doubt drawing all the wrong conclusions, she thought. This must be the Brazilian friend Ruiz had told her about, Holly concluded as the two men exchanged a fierce hug.

Ruiz confirmed this when he introduced them. ‘Holly, I’d like you to meet an old friend and adversary of mine—’

‘Not so much of the old, please,’ Gabriel insisted with his gaze still trained on Holly. ‘Though I won’t argue about our adversarial tendencies.’

‘Gabriel,’ Holly said politely, hoping she wouldn’t get her hand scorched off when she shook his hand. Was there a whole contingent of stunning South Americans living in London? Holly wondered as more, equally striking men joined their group.

‘Polo players,’ Ruiz explained, slipping out of Portuguese with Gabriel into Spanish with some of the others. ‘My apologies, Holly,’ he added politely. ‘We will speak only English now,’ Ruiz instructed his friends.

Polo players? She would never have guessed, Holly mused wryly, taking in the muscular physiques. All the men looked like athletes and none of them was afraid of staring her straight in the eyes. She wasn’t used to such forthright inspection and felt her cheeks fire red. And then Ruiz introduced her by explaining that Holly was an agony aunt, which only brought a fresh blood-rush to her cheeks.

‘Holly doesn’t look much like your auntie to me,’ Gabriel commented dryly.

‘If
you
need any help or advice, Holly, don’t hesitate to call me,’ another man drawled.

‘Enough,’ Ruiz commanded good-humouredly. To Holly’s further amazement, he then placed a protective arm around her shoulders. ‘You’ll have Holly believing all South Americans are best avoided by respectable women.’

‘Respectable women?’ Gabriel commented in a low drawl. ‘Now there’s a rare breed. You must allow me to offer you the hospitality of my club,’ Gabriel added, switching his amused, worldly stare from Holly’s face to Ruiz. ‘At least for the first part of your evening. The rest of the night is up, to you my friends.’

‘That’s enough, Gabe.’ Ruiz cautioned his friend in a low voice in a way that made Holly feel unusually protected.

Not a bad feeling, she concluded, if one she was unused to. Ruiz leaping to her defence was surprise enough, but seeing how quickly the other men backed off when he told them to communicated a lot about Ruiz. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly when they were alone again.

‘For what?’ Ruiz demanded.

‘I think you know,’ she said.

CHAPTER SIX

Playing with fire and the consequences thereof. Someone once told me that dancing is one of the few things we humans do in perfect rhythm with a partner, and that the other notable activity, more often than not, follows afterwards.

Fat chance, is all I can say.

Oh, and I would write at greater length, but tapping away under the table while the playboy briefly chats with more admirers doesn’t give me much chance to wax lyrical. I can only say that the consequences of the gawkiest redhead in town attending the hottest club in town with the sexiest man in town, steeling herself to dance the hottest dance on the planet with a man born to move in rhythm with a partner, should give you a laugh—

HER next column would be one heck of a read, Holly concluded as Ruiz led her onto the dance floor. Seeing him here outside an environment they shared was interesting. She liked him better if anything. The respect Ruiz attracted from the other men was a measure of him, and although she was the clumsiest thing on two feet she felt confident Ruiz would never laugh at her or put her down the way her ex had. She only had to see him with his friends to know Ruiz was all about making people feel good.

‘Please excuse my friends,’ he said as if he had picked up on her thoughts. ‘Waiting for the polo season to get underway frustrates them. I’m afraid they’re suffering an overdose of testosterone without the opportunity to work it off.’

‘I’m really not that sensitive.’

‘In the workplace? I would agree with you,’ he said. ‘But personally … I’m not so sure.’

‘They really didn’t upset me,’ Holly stressed. ‘So
you
can relax.’

‘If you ask me to …’

As his lips tugged she shivered with awareness. What was the female equivalent of Ruiz’s friends’ problem? Pheromone-frenzy? Whatever it might be she had it bad.

‘We’re all impatient for the polo season to start, Holly,’ Ruiz confided, drawing her gaze back to his strong, dark face.

Her name sounded so exotic on Ruiz’s lips it must be way past the time to steer her thoughts onto safer ground. ‘You must miss polo and Argentina very much.’

‘I miss my brothers more than the game. I even miss that wretched sister of mine,’ Ruiz admitted wryly. ‘I miss the space and the wild free gallops,’ he added, drawing her close, fortunately so engaged in his own thoughts Ruiz missed her sharp intake of breath as she collided with his hard body. ‘And I miss the warmth of the people.’

There was quite a lot of warmth going on here too, Holly thought as Ruiz pressed against her, but then she noticed he was staring over her head at nothing in particular, as if his thoughts were somewhere else, far away. But when the music started to play and his hand found hers she thrilled at the warmth of his touch. He moved gently at first, easing her into the dance, his confident movements in perfect timing with the beat of the music. He held her so lightly, and yet the music seemed to flow from him to her so that even Holly’s awkward body responded perfectly. She was infected by the rhythm, and by Ruiz, Holly concluded, and by the sense that on a cold winter’s night there was nowhere else on earth she would rather be than dancing the samba in Ruiz’s arms.

Had she gone completely mad?

Probably, Holly thought as Ruiz, having told her to relax, firmed his grip. ‘That’s better,’ he approved as she began to move a little more confidently to the music, but then he added, ‘I think you have been less than honest with me, Holly.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her head shot up.

‘You can dance,’ Ruiz said, smiling.

She smiled back, feeling good inside. Her hand felt right in his, and with Ruiz’s arm around her waist, his fingers lightly holding her, she realised she liked being part of a couple—this couple—however fleeting this chance of being with Ruiz might be. They moved well together, easily, as if they had been dancing this way all their lives. She had never made a show of herself like this before, yet here she was, dancing in public with a man born to use his body expertly, while she was twirling and flirting with her hips and with her eyes—

What was the worst that could happen? She could make a fool of herself? Something told her Ruiz would never allow that to happen.

‘You’re not even treading on my feet,’ he said dryly, dipping his head to direct this observation with a smile into her eyes.

‘Nor you on mine,’ she agreed.

‘Unusual for me,’ Ruiz remarked, smiling wickedly again.

She loved it when he teased her. She loved … Unfortunately for her peace of mind, she loved most things about Ruiz.

The samba was fast and flirty. If she had chosen to represent each of them with a dance it would be the passionate tango for Ruiz and an energetic barn dance with more gusto than panache for Holly. But somehow they were meeting in the middle with this highly charged, fast-moving pas de deux that left her little time to wonder if she was doing it right. No time to think, no time to feel self-conscious. Just fun and laughter, flashing eyes, and moving her body to the rhythm of the music in a way she wouldn’t have believed possible until tonight.

‘Now you’re really getting into it,’ Ruiz approved as he spun her round.

‘You know I’m only doing my best to keep up.’

‘No. You have a natural flair,’ Ruiz insisted, drawing her close again.

‘Not really. There are some great dancers here.’ And Ruiz was one of them, as every woman in the club seemed to agree. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her face, Holly thought as she relished the unaccustomed sensation of being pressed up close against him. Tough, hard and strong, Ruiz might look like a swarthy bad boy on the rampage, but he moved like a dream.

And this was a man whose reputation made Casanova seem like a choir boy. And what had happened the last time she had allowed herself to be lulled into a trancelike state by a good-looking man? Images of half-empty wine bottles and crisp packets piled up on a carpet of chocolate wrappers crowded into her head. Did she really want to go back there? Not that Ruiz had any need of her money.

‘I’ve lost you,’ he chided as the dance floor began to clear. ‘Where are you now, Holly? Worrying about the steps for the next dance?’ he suggested as the music started up again.

There couldn’t be a next dance if she wanted to keep any sense of reality where Ruiz was concerned. Her less than platonic feelings for him could only mean she was setting herself up for a fall. ‘Shouldn’t we be getting back for Bouncer?’

‘The dog?’ Ruiz gave her one of his looks. ‘Didn’t I take him out for the longest walk ever before we came here?’

‘He has been on his own for rather a long time.’

‘And will be asleep by now, I have no doubt,’ Ruiz assured her, his sexy eyes darkening in a smile. And then the infectious beat started up again. The moment his hand found the hollow in the small of her back she was lost. They were good together—frighteningly good.

When the dance ended Ruiz held her at arm’s length. ‘I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much, Holly.’

Was he serious? The adrenalin rush that had been brought on by dancing with Ruiz was subsiding, leaving a gap for Holly’s self-esteem issues to fill.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ he said.

‘I won’t put your toes in danger again, I promise.’

‘Where are you going?’ Ruiz caught hold of her.

‘To get my coat. To call a taxi.’ She held up her hand when Ruiz seemed as if he might argue with her. ‘You don’t have to leave. Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ruiz.’

Dipping his head low, Ruiz stared into her eyes. ‘Do you think I’m going to let you call a cab and leave the club on your own?’

‘I’m not a baby, Ruiz. And you don’t have to spoil your night just because I’m going home.’

‘I brought you here. I’m taking you home. And, anyway, it’s too late for you to be out on your own.’

If Ruiz was talking about the dangers of the night he would come top of her list. ‘I’ll be fine in a cab,’ Holly insisted. ‘If it makes you feel better, why don’t you call a reputable company of your own choosing?’

She was serious, he realised. He had to admire Holly’s strength of will. She was an independent woman and he respected that, but all he could think was how she’d felt in his arms when they danced together and how he didn’t want the evening to end. Holly was all woman—she just didn’t know it yet. Her hair had felt like spun silk beneath his hands and her body was—Now who was writing up a storm? ‘I’m taking you home,’ he said firmly, flashing a warning glance at his friends who had been viewing their little altercation from the bar.

She slept with Bouncer that night. Much safer. And as far as
sex sells
went, how about a snuffly dog with an ear-splitting snore? How well would that sell? ‘Oh, Bouncer,’ Holly complained softly as the big dog began to chase rabbits in his sleep. ‘I can see I’m not going to get any more rest tonight.’

Retrieving the duvet from the floor where Bouncer had kicked it, Holly glanced at the clock on the wall. Three a.m. Great. There was only one thing for it—she might as well start writing her next column. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have anything to say. Creeping out of the bedroom, she sat down at her usual place in the living room and began to write, and write. She soon had enough to fill a double-paged spread. Pausing for thought, she started thundering on the keyboard again, hardly realising that she was reasoning out her feelings for Ruiz—

The playboy is the youngest of a notorious band of polo-playing brothers and also the brother of my best friend, so of course we have a bond. He is someone I can be friends with, but nothing more—even if he wanted more, which, obviously, he doesn’t …

‘Don’t stop now—’

Holly swung round in shock to find Ruiz, barefoot in a black tee and boxers, standing behind her, blatantly reading her screen.

‘I was just enjoying that,’ he protested as she shut the lid on her laptop.

Her cheeks fired with embarrassment. ‘Don’t you have any manners?’

‘In the bedroom? Yes. In the office? No. This is your temporary office, isn’t it, Holly?’ And then, as if such a wealth of tan and muscle on so broad-shouldered a frame weren’t enough to scramble her brains completely, he leaned low to murmur, ‘We really have to stop meeting like this …’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ she said primly, refusing absolutely to acknowledge the way Ruiz was making her feel.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ he said. ‘Hot milk, perhaps? Or cocoa?’

‘You can stop teasing me,’ she warned. Standing, she drew herself up to her full five feet three, which only succeeded in amusing Ruiz as she had to lean back to look him in the eye. But then she thought about what he’d said. ‘Am I really so boring that you think I need hot milk?’

‘I wouldn’t call you boring.’ Ruiz’s sexy mouth pressed down in wry conjecture as he pretended to think about it. ‘Irritating, maybe—’

‘Like an itch you can’t reach?’ she suggested dryly.

‘Oh, I can reach you,’ Ruiz assured her softly.

Not quite so sure she wanted to play this game any longer, Holly watched warily as Ruiz walked towards her. She couldn’t have been more surprised when he leaned forward to brush a kiss against her lips. Without meaning to, she swayed against him. He moved away.

‘See you in the morning, Holly.’

She stared after him, deciding her readers would never know what a close call she’d had.

Tactics that had worked so well for him in the past didn’t work with Holly. And he wouldn’t want them to, Ruiz concluded as he directed a frustrated punch at his pillow. Was she still working? Was she asleep? Closing his eyes, he tried running the company balance sheets in his head. That had always worked for him in the past, but not tonight, because tonight all he could see was Holly in overlarge pyjamas with her bare feet crossed and tucked neatly beneath the chair while she sat with her head bowed over her laptop, feverishly tapping away.

‘Ruiz?’

He shot up.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ Holly murmured as she opened the door just a crack. ‘Bouncer was begging to go out and now he seems to have hurt his paw in the garden.’

‘You went outside at night on your own?’ He was halfway across the room by this time. ‘Don’t do that again,’ he said, striding past Holly towards the kitchen.

‘I didn’t have much choice,’ Holly insisted, catching up with him. ‘I bathed the paw,’ she explained as he hunkered down to take a look.

‘I can’t see anything,’ he admitted.

‘Neither could I. Maybe he trod on some glass? He was limping when he came back into the kitchen.’

‘Did you give him a biscuit when you brought him in?’

‘Why, yes, I did,’ Holly admitted. ‘And once I was sure he was okay I gave him another to reassure him.’

Ruiz grinned as he ruffled the big dog’s fur. ‘That’s one of Bouncer’s favourite tricks—limping, and then the hangdog expression. Works every time, doesn’t it, boy?’

‘He had me,’ Holly admitted ruefully, shooting Bouncer a hard stare. ‘I’m really sorry for getting you out of bed, Ruiz, especially as it looks like it was for nothing.’

‘Better safe than sorry,’ he observed, springing up.

He realised then how tiny Holly was in bare feet, and how big and clumsy he was by comparison. More concerning was the fact that he was only wearing boxers and a tee. ‘You’re not going back to work, are you?’ he asked as she turned for the door.

‘Maybe—I keep a personal diary too. Remember? I told you. Always have,’ she explained.

And wouldn’t he love to see that! ‘How does anyone find the time?’

‘Only child?’

‘Ah, yes. Lucia told me. No siblings to distract you.’ He realised then that Holly must have had plenty of time to record her thoughts, and that what had been a hobby to begin with had become a habit now. ‘So what was it like having my sister as a friend at boarding school?’ he asked curiously, not wanting Holly to go just yet.