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 sel
ls 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.
She laughed. ‘Quite a shock to my system. I was an only child used to doing what I was told.’
‘And Lucia was a very different animal?’ Ruiz’s lips tugged. He understood.
How had she become best friends with the most attractive and outgoing girl in the school? Thinking back, Holly remembered Lucia not just being high spirited and up to mischief half of the time, but so incredibly warm, and interested in everyone—not unlike her brother, Ruiz. It was a tribute both to their good nature and to their brother Nacho, who had brought them up.
‘Lucia and I made quite a team,’ she explained. ‘We egged each other on and skated a very thin line between total exclusion from the school and one of our crazy ideas taking off. Lucky for us, one of our ideas worked so well we managed to get a whole pile of money from a government educational grant to develop our ecological project.’
‘Was that where the green hair came in?’
‘Are you accusing me of deliberately dying my hair green?’
‘Should I be?’ Ruiz said wryly.
‘It may have had something to do with it.’
‘So, in summary you were both holy terrors?’
‘You don’t know the half,’ Holly agreed.
‘Which is perhaps just as well,’ Ruiz commented, his ruggedly handsome face creasing in a rueful grin. ‘Well. I suppose I should turn in. Thanks for looking after our mutual friend.’
‘Don’t you want some ice cream?’
‘Ice cream?’
‘When it’s this late and you don’t want to start eating proper food again, ice cream fills a gap, I find.’
‘Does it?’ Ruiz said in a tone that made her toes curl. She was already rifling through the freezer box by this time, shaking convulsively and not with cold. She had never led a man on before. But this was new Holly, and there was a first time for everything …
Holly licked her lips when she found the carton of ice cream she was looking for. He realised then that had any other woman done that he would have interpreted the request as she would have wanted him to, but with Holly it was different. She was different. Meanwhile, Bouncer might not be the talking dog, but the big mutt had a very eloquent way of expressing himself. Currently stretched out in a contented sprawl snoring softly, Bouncer had clearly forgotten all thoughts of sore paws and looked as if everything in his world was going to plan.
Ruiz took up every available inch in the kitchen. There was no way past his bed-ruffled, barely clad form unless he backed out of her way. Stretching up, she tried reaching for two bowls, then, spotting something else, she changed her mind and grabbed a pack of ice-cream cornets instead. Bu
t now her hand was shaking so much she couldn’t get the ice-cream scoop to connect with the contents of the tub.
‘Here, let me help you with that,’ Ruiz offered. ‘If we put the scoop in boiling water first—’ He stopped. ‘Holly? You’re really shaking. Are you cold?’
‘Yes,’ she exclaimed, grabbing the cue Ruiz had given her like a life raft. Could desire do this to you? She had no idea what desire could do, having never felt anything to compare with this before. With her ex she had been so pathetically grateful that he noticed her at all that her own passion had never really come into it. She had been too busy trying to please him, to keep him, to keep his interest—
‘Why don’t you turn the heating up, while I serve the ice cream?’ Ruiz suggested, sounding as normal as ever, as if two people clad in nightclothes—one of them barely clad at all—could have a companionable chat in the middle of the night without feeling as incredibly aware as she did. Could she squeeze past him without touching? She glanced at the climate control on the wall, knowing she wasn’t even remotely cold, but it was too late to admit that now.
‘Come on,’ Ruiz prompted, pressing his muscular form back against the side to let her past.
Was he kidding? This was a really bad idea. She was hardly experienced enough to play flirting games with Ruiz, let alone rub past so much muscle. But she would have to …
Sucking in her stomach, she braced herself. Avoiding contact was impossible. Ruiz tried to help, but she still got stuck. ‘This is a tight squeeze,’ he observed dryly.
She tried to reach over him to the control, conscious all the time of his hot, hard, naked thigh pressed up against her. ‘You’re taking up all the space. I can’t reach anything. You’ll have to move.’
Please, please move—
Ruiz didn’t move a muscle. ‘I thought you said you needed warming up?’ he commented.
‘I do—’ Her hand flailed about searching for the elusive heat control, while her gaze never left Ruiz’s dark, amused stare. He might well look like that when her body had somehow moulded itself around his without any input from her at all.
The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta Page 8
