‘Don’t be harsh,’ Holly blurted, blushing furiously.
‘No, you’re right,’ the girl agreed when everyone had finally calmed down and stopped laughing. ‘That was bitchy of me. And we’ve all been there, haven’t we?’
When Holly’s colleagues finally calmed down and agreed with this, their team leader, who was in the best of moods for once, called for silence. ‘I’ve got some really good news for all of us. Since the playboy told our beloved redhead Holly that they were splitting, hits to the web site are threatening to crash the system.’
‘Hasn’t the “Living with a Playboy” feature almost run its course?’ Holly suggested desperately, not wanting to go any deeper into this. ‘Should we be thinking of going out on a high? Maybe trying to come up with a new idea for a fresh column?’ She was clutching at straws, Holly realised when she saw the disapproval on her team leader’s face.
‘Are you mad?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t even think about finishing it. Most of the hits are on your page. Your love life is such a mess everyone feels confident writing to you.’
‘Oh, good. My life is a disaster, so everyone’s happy—’
‘Don’t be so naïve, Holly. This is fiction. Keep up the misery,’ the team leader advised. ‘It sells almost as well as sex.’
Everyone laughed except Holly, who had closed her mind to the problems of real life and was already constructing her next headline: Fall in love with his dog by all means, but don’t fall in love with him—especially if you expect the same level of loyalty and affection you get from his furry friend.
When she got back to the penthouse Holly’s heart almost stopped when she found Ruiz already back from work. He was lounging on the sofa in the living room with one jean-clad leg crossed nonchalantly over the other, the sleeves rolled back on his checked shirt—
Forearms bared meant action, Holly thought, feeling a jolt as her sixth sense kicked in. Ruiz had made no secret of the fact that he would be leaving soon for the polo match in Argentina. How soon? Very soon? She could sense change in the air. And then she saw what he was looking at. ‘What’s this?’ he demanded, swinging his laptop round so she could see the screen.
‘Fiction,’ she said flatly. He’d read her latest article, which was less than complimentary about him and even less kind to her. It was the type of relationship screw-up the team leader had asked for, and, because she was still stinging from Ruiz’s cold dismissal and the thought of him leaving for Argentina, for once she’d given her team leader what he’d asked for—no holds barred. ‘Don’t you like it?’ she asked Ruiz, aching inside.
‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ he said, closing the lid. ‘It’s up to your readers, though you make your feelings clear enough.’
Wait until he read tomorrow’s column, Holly thought, wondering briefly if she should tone it down, and then deciding not. ‘I’m a journalist, Ruiz.’
‘You mean you make things up,’ he said, his eyes dark and watchful.
‘You know I do. I’ve never made any secret of the fact that the “Living with a Playboy” feature is a fiction—a piece of light entertainment to increase reader interest in the agony-aunt column.’
‘A feature for which I am the inspiration.’
‘I have never made a secret of that either.’
Ruiz wouldn’t look at her. But he had always known what she was doing. She must appear as nonchalant as he did. The sex had been spectacular between them last night, but acting cool the morning after was the only thing she could do to protect herself. So what would she tell her readers? She would heap on the misery as she’d been asked to, Holly concluded. ‘What’s wrong, Ruiz?’
‘You say this is fiction?’ He glanced at the laptop. ‘But I think this must reflect your true feelings, at least a little.’ And as such it hurt like hell, Ruiz concluded angrily. On the back of it he’d made a lot of changes—like hiring a housekeeper to take care of Bouncer while he was gone. ‘I think you’ve started believing your own fiction, Holly.’
‘What?’ She laughed incredulously. ‘It’s just work. That’s what I do.’
‘Then I don’t like what you do.’
The room hung in frigid silence. Holly felt as if the sword of Damocles were hanging by a thread above her head. She knew the sword had to fall, it was just a question of when and how fast.
So get out of its way—
‘I’ll go and put these things away, if you don’t mind?’ she said, glancing at the shopping bags of food she had brought in.
‘When you’ve done that, come back. We need to talk.’
She felt dead inside. There was nothing in Ruiz’s voice to suggest that last night had meant anything to him. Just as she had suspected, he had already moved on.
She went into the kitchen, where Bouncer came snuffling up to her, his big brown eyes soulful as if the dog sensed her tension and wanted to defuse it. ‘I won’t leave you,’ Holly vowed fiercely. ‘I’ll find somewhere to live where you can come with me.’ She glanced at the door behind which the man she had been so confident she could turn into a fiction, and who had somehow become so much more than that, was waiting for her.
She’d miss him when he left.
Squeezing back tears, she made do with hugging Ruiz’s dog. ‘I love you, Bouncer,’ she said passionately, releasing some of the tension. It wasn’t right to feel like this about a man. No excuses. She’d known all along how dangerous it was to risk her heart.
‘I thought you were going to put that shopping away and then come back and talk?’
Collecting herself quickly, Holly looked up to find Ruiz lounging in the doorway. His arms were folded across his formidable chest, and his voice, his body, his eyes especially—eyes she had stared into with love, and into which she had placed her trust—everything drew her to him. She couldn’t change her feelings where Ruiz was concerned just because it was safer to do so or because she willed it. She could write whatever she liked in the column, but reality refused to be manipulated. ‘I’m just sorting stuff out,’ she managed casually.
‘Well, don’t take all evening.’
The playboy might be a fictional figure, but Ruiz was all too real. And so were her feelings for him. Finding the doggy treats she’d bought at the supermarket, she tried telling herself it wasn’t all bad as Bouncer’s tail thanked her profusely. At least she’d made one good friend in London. But there was really only one friend and lover she could ever want, and he plainly wasn’t interested.
She took her time, had a shower and changed into jeans before returning to the living room where Ruiz was working on his laptop. ‘You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?’ She had to challenge him before he could make the announcement. Ruiz’s answer was to indicate the space next to him on the sofa. She sat as far away from him as she could, determined not to let him see how she felt about his silence. She wondered then if Ruiz had any lingering memories of her touch, or her kisses, as she had of his. Did men even bank physical memories like a woman, to pull out and review later?
She had to stop thinking like that, or she’d break down. She should have had a good howl in the shower to get this out of her system. The way Ruiz was acting, so casual and normal as if this was just another day, she couldn’t bear it. The greatest intimacy of all seemed to have pushed them apart, and she of all people should have known the risks: don’t tie me down, don’t ask me to commit. It was, after all, a favourite topic in the column. Friends were bound by loving ties even if they didn’t see each other for years, but sleep with a friend and that changed everything, because you ran the risk of becoming a nuisance, a potential curb on your friend’s freedom.
‘Are you okay?’ Ruiz glanced at her with concern as she sucked in a couple of steadying breaths.
‘I’m fine, thank you. So when are you going?’
‘Soon. Very soon. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.’ He picked up a set of keys. Was Ruiz offering Holly the keys to his house? Why? ‘Do you want me to keep an eye on the place w
hile you’re away?’ She was happy to do so.
‘No, that’s okay—but thanks for the offer. I have employed a live-in housekeeper who will have her own apartment on site.’ He ruffled Bouncer’s ears. Having padded into the room in search of company, the big dog had settled down between them. ‘The town house is a much better option than here,’ Ruiz went on. ‘There’s a proper garden, plus a large communal garden that leads on to the park.’
‘That’s great.’ She kept it light. ‘But I’m not sure I can afford the rent …’
‘That’s very funny,’ Ruiz said, shaking his head, but his eyes were cold as he stared at her. ‘I’m talking about Bouncer moving back there. You’ll stay here, won’t you, Holly? At least until you find somewhere else to live. No hurry,’ he stressed.
‘Of course.’ She laughed. She smiled. She died a little more inside. She should have known Ruiz’s forward planning was all about his dog. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be here long. I’ve found several flats to look at in the next couple of days—’
‘Well, that’s great,’ Ruiz agreed. ‘But you know you can stay on here as long as you want.’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘Okay.’ He shrugged. ‘Whatever you want, Holly …’
‘I thought I’d move closer to the office.’
Ruiz made no comment and it was a relief to get up and turn away. New Holly didn’t long for things she couldn’t have. She didn’t risk her heart or her bank account. And she certainly didn’t risk her career, Holly told herself fiercely, fighting back tears.
CHAPTER NINE
Concerned you might be left on the shelf? Don’t be. Just think—no shirts to iron, no meals to cook, and you can eat chocolate éclairs for supper every night of your life.
Light-bulb moment, why? Because wallowing in misery isn’t for me, the new me. Friend to lover and back to friends again. I’m told this shift of position is possible if handled correctly. And because I love this man’s sister as if she were my own and I don’t want to hurt her, I’m determined to make it back to friends with him.
And the playboy? Who knows what he thinks? He’s off to Argentina and a life of which I will never be a part. I have to say he seems preoccupied. Perhaps he’s concerned he’s been out of the game too long and might not come up to scratch when he returns to play top class polo. Whatever his problem, one thing I’m sure about—it has nothing to do with me.
HOLLY kept her head down next day at the office. Work was the only thing that numbed the pain of thinking about Ruiz resuming the life of a playboy in the next couple of days, surrounded by sloe-eyed señoritas in Argentina. Work, as well as time-tabling visits to likely rental properties throughout the capital …
‘You haven’t forgotten it’s the Christmas party tonight, have you?’ Freya reminded Holly later that same afternoon.
‘Hmm?’ Holly barely looked up as she hammered away on her keyboard.
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Freya pressed.
‘I heard you, but I have to work.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Holly. You haven’t even stopped for lunch,’ Freya protested.
‘We’re not letting you get out of it,’ several more girls chorused as they gathered round Holly’s desk.
‘You haven’t forgotten the Christmas party is at the samba club, have you?’ Freya prompted, exchanging glances with her friends.
How could she forget? Another good reason for not going to the party, Holly reasoned, thinking of Ruiz and keeping her head down when the girls shrieked ‘Ole!’ while putting in a bit of skirt-twirling and pouting practice.
‘Hot men, fast music, free drinks. How can you pass that up?’ Freya demanded.
‘Easily,’ Holly murmured, keeping her attention fixed on the screen.
‘Well, we’re not going without you,’ Freya said flatly.
‘Then none of us will go,’ Holly flashed, immediately regretting her outburst when she saw the hurt and surprise on Freya’s face. But how could she go to the samba club with all that it meant to her? It had been such a special night with Ruiz—a night she would never be able to recreate or forget, and she didn’t want to try. ‘Please, Freya. I’ve still got so much to do,’ she pleaded, offering her last piece of chocolate, which Freya refused. ‘Some other night, perhaps.’
‘Holly, this is the Christmas party,’ Freya pointed out. ‘It won’t come around again until next year. You never stop working. You’re in serious danger of—’
‘Don’t say becoming boring. Please don’t say that,’ Holly cut in.
‘I was about to say, you’re in danger of burning out,’ Freya told her with concern.
‘I’m sorry,’ Holly admitted. ‘Truly, I am.’ And when Freya smiled encouragement, she added in a very different voice, ‘Okay, so whose bright idea was it to hold the Christmas party at the samba club?’
Freya’s face brightened immediately. ‘The guys in marketing. Does that mean you’re coming?’
‘If you’ll have me,’ Holly said wryly.
Freya’s answer was to switch off her screen. ‘Go and get ready,’ she insisted. ‘We’ll wait for you.’
She had made some good friends in London, Holly reflected as the girls bustled her out of the office. She should make more time for them, but somehow there didn’t seem to be time for anything these days.
Having tested every part of his body at the gym and found it all in good working order, Ruiz took a long, cold shower and tucked a towel around his waist. He was just opening his locker when the call came through on his phone. ‘Gabe? To what do I owe this honour?’
‘That pretty little thing you brought to the club that time?’
‘Do you mean Holly?’ Ruiz was instantly alert, all thoughts of cutting Holly out of his life forgotten.
‘ROCK! is having its Christmas party at the club and the guys are well into the party spirit. I’m not sure your friend is too happy about them trying to get her to dance. Would you like me to intervene?’
A muscle in Ruiz’s jaw flexed. ‘I’m only across the road at the gym. Can you keep an eye on things until I get there?’
‘Count on it.’
He didn’t pause to dry his hair. Throwing on the same running clothes he had arrived in, he collected Bouncer from the girls on Reception and headed off.
How was she going to do this nicely without causing offence to people she had to work with? How was she going to get out of dancing with men who’d had too much to drink, and who should have learned by now that no meant no? She couldn’t help but remember Ruiz, and how safe she’d felt with him.
‘Ow! You’re hurting me,’ Holly protested, freeing her arm from one man’s grasp. ‘Please don’t touch me,’ she exclaimed, whirling round to try and catch another culprit. But the more Holly resisted, the more the men seemed to think it was a game. Where was Freya? Where were all the other girls she worked with? Holly frantically scanned the dance floor, but it was so packed she couldn’t see anyone she knew.
And then her heart rolled over. ‘Ruiz?’ Dressed in running shoes and gym clothes, his hair still damp from the shower, Ruiz was framed in the entrance to the club with Bouncer sitting patiently at his feet. With his dark eyes narrowed Ruiz was also searching the dance floor, every fibre of his pumped and muscular body poised for action. The moment he caught sight of her he strode purposefully forward. A path cleared in front of him. No wonder, Holly thought. The expression in Ruiz’s eyes was murderous. With their reflexes dulled by drink, the men around her took a little longer to realise what was happening, but thankfully some primal warning mechanism must have kicked in and they peeled away just in time.
‘Are you all right?’ Ruiz demanded tersely.
She was now, Holly realised, feeling massive relief.
‘I heard you were having trouble.’ Before she could question this, Ruiz added, ‘Let’s get your coat.’ And putting a protective arm around her shoulders, he led her towards the reception area.
‘You’ve come straight from the gym
,’ she said as they collected Bouncer.
‘No, I always dress like this for a night out.’
‘Ruiz, I—’
‘Don’t say it.’
‘I will say it. I always seem to be such a bother. So, thank you.’
Ruiz grunted and held the door for her.
They walked home at a brisk pace through the park, icy air billowing in silent clouds from their mouths. They both had plenty to think about, but neither of them voiced those thoughts, and Holly could feel Ruiz’s tension. Only Bouncer seemed perfectly at ease as he trotted along between them. She was grateful to the big dog’s softening influence on a situation that showed no sign of easing any time soon. Ruiz didn’t speak until they reached the penthouse and then he turned at the door of the elevator. ‘What will you do when I’m not here, Holly?’
‘Work,’ she said as the doors slid open and they stepped inside.
Ruiz firmed his jaw, staring straight ahead as they waited for the elevator to reach the penthouse floor. While she knew she had done nothing wrong Holly felt as if something light and good had died inside her and she didn’t know how to get it back. ‘I suppose you can forgive the people at the Christmas party. Thank goodness it only comes round once a year.’
Ruiz remained resolutely unimpressed by her attempt to make light of something that could so easily have turned nasty without his intervention. When the lift doors opened he stood aside to let her pass. She wasn’t even sure he was going to get out with her. ‘Thank you for coming to the club. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there.’
He indicated that she should move and he would follow. ‘If you will excuse me, Holly,’ Ruiz said, holding the door for her, ‘I’m going back home to bed.’
‘You’re taking Bouncer? Of course you are,’ she said quickly, remembering Bouncer was living at the town house now. ‘I’m really sorry to have put you to all this trouble, Ruiz. The silly thing is I didn’t even want to go out. I’m so bogged down with work I can’t spare the time.’ She stopped when she saw his expression.
The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta Page 11
