The Acostas Box Set: The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta / The Argentinian's Solace / A Taste of the Untamed / The Man From her Wayward Past / Taming the Last Acosta / Christmas Nights with the Polo Player. Susan Stephens
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him, staring into his eyes—all the time pretending they were nothing more than friends. Her shopping had been more erratic than usual with her frantic purchases more suitable for a royal wedding than a casual supper in a local bistro and she was fast losing confidence in her ability to pull this off.
Closing the lid on her laptop, Holly glanced at the shoe box the unscrupulous Ruiz had left temptingly outside her door. It was on her bed now. She had been forced to bring it into the bedroom in case someone fell over it. But of course she couldn’t wear the shoes unless Ruiz allowed her to pay for them. And as that would take a whole month’s salary …
The dress she had finally chosen to wear was a sale-rail spectacular—A-line, with a flirty skirt and a high scooped neck. It wasn’t black, which was about the best that could be said for it, but at least it was the same soft blue as her favourite shirt. With her hair neatly brushed, lip gloss present and correct, and just a suggestion of smudgy grey eye shadow to complement the flick of black mascara, she was ready. And nervous.
What did she have to be nervous about? Eating supper was a harmless activity.
Sharing food could be very sexy.
Fish and chips?
Mating rituals like eating supper together and how to avoid them was another good headline for her column, Holly concluded as she shifted anxiously from foot to foot in the hallway, waiting for Ruiz. But seeing as there was no escape from tonight, fish was out—ditto anything like spinach that might get stuck in her teeth. Thankfully, she had identified a healthy-food café where they could nibble on crudités and drink sparkling elder-flower water. Perfect. She would keep a clear head and as the café was brilliantly lit with sensible, hard-backed chairs Ruiz wouldn’t want to stay for long—
And when they came home?
She’d plead tiredness and go to bed. Alone.
Just when she’d almost given up on him, Ruiz stormed back into the apartment like an avenging angel in a cloud of cold air and warm smiles with Bouncer panting vigorously at his heels. ‘Ready?’ he demanded.
‘Ready,’ Holly confirmed.
‘Where are you taking me?’ he said as he bent down to remove Bouncer’s leash.
‘I thought the little café down the road—’
‘The one where we met?’ Ruiz sounded upbeat as his lips pressed down with approval of her choice. ‘Hang on while I fill Bouncer’s water bowl—’
‘No … No, that one’s shut,’ she called out.
Ruiz sauntered back into the hall. ‘Tell me you’re not taking me to that place where they serve lentil soup, and you have to sit round a communal table on hemp sacks?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ she said. ‘They do have private booths.’
‘Where you can sit on even bigger hemp sacks? No, thank you.’
‘So where do you want to go?’ she said irritably.
‘You’re letting me choose?’ Ruiz’s mouth curved in a grin.
Why couldn’t she learn to keep her big mouth shut? She would never be able to afford Ruiz’s preferred style of restaurant. ‘I’m sure I can find somewhere else you would like,’ she told him firmly.
‘I know somewhere you’d like,’ Ruiz countered. ‘It’s walking distance from here—and not expensive,’ he added when Holly’s eyes widened in panic. ‘Mid-week is all about economy, Ms Valiant.’
‘Are you mocking me, Señor Acosta?’
‘Would I?’ he said.
Holly’s look said it all. And now her mind was swinging wildly between the safe café of her choice and somewhere of Ruiz’s choosing—and how economical that would be in terms of their very different incomes. ‘Am I dressed okay for this place of yours?’
‘You’ll do,’ he said, holding her gaze with a raised eyebrow and a sexy grin.
‘It’s still my treat,’ she insisted firmly, trying to hang onto her composure.
‘Of course it is,’ Ruiz agreed. ‘Though I am prepared to make a deal with you.’
Why was he staring at her shoes? Her comfortable, clunky-heeled shoes? They were perfect if they were going to walk to the place Ruiz had mentioned. Did he need to look at them as if she had committed some terrible faux pas and make her even more nervous about stepping into Ruiz’s world than she already was?
‘This is the deal.’ Ruiz angled his disreputably stubbled chin in Holly’s direction. ‘I’ll pay for supper tonight if you wear the shoes I bought for you.’
The shoes he bought? Accept his gift? Take a totter on the wild side on five-inch heels instead of remaining safely corralled inside the magazine column on her clunkies? ‘I can’t walk in high heels. And, anyway, I already told you that I—’
‘Don’t accept gifts from men,’ Ruiz supplied. ‘I do remember.’
‘So, how does this work?’ Holly demanded. ‘I get the shoes and you pay for supper. Do you seriously think I’m going to go for that?’
‘I think you should,’ he said evenly. ‘I think if you had any sense you would.’
‘Well, clearly I don’t have any sense,’ Holly fired back, ‘because—’ Because what? Come on, come on ‘—because tonight is supposed to be my treat for you.’ Ah, yes, sweet relief. ‘Because you have to let me do something in return for allowing me to stay in the Acosta penthouse.’ Yes! ‘And as for wearing a pair of brand-new shoes that you could easily take back to the store and get a refund for—’
‘Oh, get over yourself,’ Ruiz flashed, raising the emotional temperature by a few thousand degrees. ‘You’re my sister’s best friend. If my friends were in London and needed accommodation I would expect Lucia to show them hospitality. This is a courtesy to my sister.’
As she had thought. Okay, she’d asked for that, Holly accepted as Ruiz and his storm-face reached the door. ‘Okay?’ he questioned, banging it open.
‘Okay,’ she fired back. Stepping out of the fictional world she had created for Ruiz and into reality with him might be a little more combative and complex than she had first imagined, Holly realised. And as for the effect on her senses, she could only trust that the keeper of her moral code was on duty tonight.
‘I thought we might go dancing,’ Ruiz dropped in casually as he held the door for her to go through.
‘Dancing?’ Holly managed on a dry throat, knowing her face must have been a picture of doom as she walked past him.
‘Something wrong with that?’ Ruiz demanded, turning to lock the door.
Where to start? Dancing meant touching each other, holding each other, moving as closely as two people could move together, unless they were—
‘Those shoes are perfect for dancing. Thank you for wearing them,’ Ruiz said with worrying charm as she click-clacked across the lobby towards the elevator.
‘My pleasure,’ Holly said primly, which was the understatement of the year. Well, she could hardly leave the shoes alone in a box while she went out, could she? They might fade, or something.
‘Tonight should make very good reading for your column,’ Ruiz observed as they stood waiting for the lift to arrive.
Holly forced a small laugh. Not too good, she hoped. She’d given up on the thong and was wearing really big knickers instead.
They crossed the road and walked through the park with a good three feet of air between them. Where was Ruiz taking her? Holly wondered as he turned off down a cobbled side street where the mews houses would go for millions and any club would be exclusive in the extreme. She was feeling extremely self-conscious by the