The Acostas Box Set. Susan Stephens
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‘Then I’m going to take a tour of the stables to check on the ponies.’
‘Can I come with you?’
‘If you promise not to bring your phone or your notepad.’
‘I haven’t even switched it on yet.’ And only now remembered her oversight.
‘Then do so,’ Ruiz prompted. ‘You should let people know you’re safe. Though your working hours at the estancia will be between one and four in the afternoon while I’m taking a siesta.’
She laughed. ‘So I work while you rest?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Ruiz observed with another heart-stopping flash of humour.
‘And what am I supposed to do for the rest of the time?’
‘Live a little?’ Ruiz suggested.
I will, she thought as he turned to go.
She had so much research material already and she’d only been here five minutes, Holly reflected as she leaned back against the heavy wooden door in her bedroom. Decorated in shades of palest coral and cream the room Ruiz had chosen for her was light and sunny, and beautifully feminine in a way Holly had never had the luxury of enjoying before. There was lace on the bed and silver on the dressing table, with a clutch of satin cushions on the elegant chaise longue positioned to take in the view over the ponies in the paddocks beyond the formal gardens.
The scent of beeswax tickled her senses as she waited for the data to upload on her phone. It was then that she noticed the family photographs arranged on the antique chest of drawers. There was a shot of the brothers as teenagers with their much younger sister, all of them smiling and instantly recognisable—dangerously handsome even then. She might only have been here five minutes, Holly reflected as her heartbeat increased, but it was long enough to know she would write about sexy polo players in general, because some things were better kept private. She couldn’t bear the thought of everyone laughing at her if she admitted how hopelessly in love she was with one polo player in particular.
Having made the necessary calls, she took a shower in the old fashioned, but immaculate and beautifully maintained bathroom, before sorting out her clothes on top of the high, intricately carved four-poster bed with its dressing of crisp white linen and lace. When she was ready she went to find Ruiz and her heart juddered when she bumped into him on the landing. Like her, he was just going downstairs. ‘Do you have everything you need?’ he asked.
She looked at him and thought not. ‘My room is lovely. Thank you.’ And then the question uppermost in her mind had to be asked. ‘Why did you invite me here, Ruiz?’ It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
The dark eyes gave nothing away. ‘Your editor’s pleased you’re here, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, of course he is.’ But that didn’t answer her question and Holly’s shoulders slumped as she watched Ruiz walk ahead of her down the stairs. Her heart yearned for him, but her head said, Don’t set yourself up for another disaster.
Another column I only hope makes more sense to you, the reader, than it does to me right now. My head is full of one man: the playboy. He’s so hot and sexy with a torso that would eclipse the centre-fold on any magazine you care to mention. To see him control a horse, effortlessly and completely, is the biggest turn-on of all. The polo match was spectacular. He was spectacular—
Am I getting a little selfish here? If I am, this is for you: the quotient of thighs like smooth, muscular tree trunks, and forearms like hairy steel bars was totally off the scale—
But the playboy is the only man I’m interested in. To seem him in full battle mode cracking the ball down the field at a gallop was so thrilling I would have fallen in love with him on the spot if I weren’t in love with him already.
Yes. You can safely say I am a lost cause. I don’t seem to have any sense of reality when it comes to men. I can’t find a safe man with carpet slippers and a newspaper. I can’t even find a slightly risky man with a set of golf clubs and a year’s subscription to the local squash club. All I can find is a Playboy with a capital P and a stonking great mallet.
RUIZ was in the kitchen drinking coffee, with a housekeeper bustling at the stove. He put his cup down when Holly came into the room and got up immediately. ‘I want you to see something,’ he said, leading her back towards the door she had just entered.
His touch on her arm was so familiar … so achingly familiar. She liked it. A great deal too much.
Ruiz took her across the baronial hall with its burnished wooded floor and muted, jewel-coloured hangings to another passageway leading off the grand entrance hall. Opening the door onto a room with a very different personality, he followed her in. Leaning back against the door, he said, ‘Well? What do you think?’
She was finding it hard to concentrate right now.
‘Take a look around,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll find everything you need here …’
It was an office, she realised. Ruiz had brought her into a very modern office. All teak and cream furnishings, and sunlight slid through crisp white blinds to create the perfect working environment.
‘I thought you would appreciate having a room of your own to work in quietly,’ he said. ‘Somewhere away from the rest of the house and the hubbub of polo and family life. This is where I come when I want to get away, and where I do some of my best thinking. Let’s hope the same vibes work for you. Consider this your room for the duration of your stay, Holly. No one will disturb you here.’
It was a beautiful room. So why did she feel so flat? Maybe because Ruiz wasn’t part of the package? ‘Thank you.’ No one had ever been so thoughtful before. Her family home had been small and cramped with parents at war, so the local library or the coffee shop down the road had been her office. A room of her own, even for her brief stay here, was luxury indeed. There was only one thing missing, Holly realised as Ruiz turned to go.
‘Don’t spend all your time in here,’ was his parting shot.
‘I won’t.’ She was determined to keep it light. ‘I won’t have anything to write about if I do!’
But he’d already gone. The door had shut behind Ruiz, leaving Holly to her own devices in his fabulous office. Great. She was here to work, so this was brilliant.
Well, get on with it, then …
Nothing. Her mind was empty. There wasn’t a single idea in her head. There was just a keyboard, a blank screen, and the sound of confident footsteps walking away.
* * *
There were times when you had to cast your net into the water rather than wait on the bank doing nothing, Holly reflected when the longest ten minutes of her life had passed. There was everything here in this office, except for the one thing she needed. Picking up the internal phone, she dialled the kitchen. Ruiz picked up immediately. ‘Problem?’ he demanded.
‘I need something to write about.’
‘I’ll be right up.’
There was nothing in his tone to suggest that this was going to be anything more than a courtesy call, but Holly’s heart turned over at the sound of a knock on the door. ‘Well?’ Ruiz demanded, walking in.
Her brain seized up. Right now she just wanted to look at him. There’d been a Ruiz-drought in her life and now she just wanted to drink him in. Big, refreshing gulps! Propping one lean thigh against the desk, he stared down at her, frowning. ‘I hope you haven’t brought me up here for nothing?’
‘No …’ Her senses were full of him. She loved it when he glowered, and Ruiz was close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body and smell