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Nice. Very nice—if a little unsophisticated for his taste, but variety was the spice of life, Ruiz reminded himself as he strode back to his town house with Bouncer in tow. Would he see her again, or would Holly simply disappear into the great melting pot of the metropolis? He liked her a lot. In fact, he couldn’t remember a woman making such a strong impression on him in so short a time. Perhaps it was because she made him laugh, or was it that clear green gaze he had found so open and expressive? He could even remember the scent she had used—fresh, citrusy, with just a hint of vanilla. He liked her mouth too—especially when she bit down on the swell of her bottom lip as if that would stop her asking him any more questions. And when she smiled—
‘Hey, Bouncer, you liked her, didn’t you?’ Soulful eyes turned his way, reminding him he had to find a solution for Bouncer before he returned to Argentina for the polo match …
No. Forget it. That would never work. The idea was ridiculous. He hardly knew Holly and the chances of ever seeing her again were remote. Though he couldn’t help wishing he might, Ruiz realised.
Oblivious to the filthy weather, he turned in through the gates of the park. It wasn’t the pampas but at least it was a big green space in the middle of the city where the big dog could enjoy some sort of freedom. When Bouncer had first wandered into his life he had intended to turn him over to the police, but when the moment had arrived he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, and so he’d reported Bouncer missing and taken him home. They’d been together ever since. There had to be some sort of reward for a dog who had sensed an animal lover in a world of pet-free pavements, Ruiz reflected as he reached for the ball he’d stuffed in his pocket. Firing the ball across the park, he had to admit his brother Nacho was right—Ruiz shouldn’t have taken the big dog on, only to keep him confined in London.
‘Time is running out for us, boy,’ he told Bouncer when the dog came bounding back. Ruiz shot the ball again, and felt his heart jag when Bouncer, having joyfully snatched it up, came racing back to him. Was it wrong to hope fate would smile on them? Ruiz reflected as the big dog dropped the ball at his feet. And then he remembered Holly and wondered if it already had.
CHAPTER TWO
London Diary:
If at first you don’t succeed—
GIVE UP
No!
No. That wasn’t what she meant to write at all.
So. Delete that and start again.
Okay …
You’d think it would be seventh heaven living in the Acosta family penthouse with all that space, state-of-the-art gizmos, and furnishings courtesy of a top interior designer, but actually it means not using anything in the kitchen in case you scratch, burn, or break it. And don’t get me started on the bathroom. Basically, I’m fed up with tiptoeing around. I might be living in the city, but I’m still a countrygirl at heart. *Think* Bigfoot with ten carrier bags on each arm blundering through the glass department at Harrods—and you’re still not even close. And then there’s the job at ROCK! Working at the hottest magazine in town should be a dream come true, right? Wrong. Things really couldn’t get any worse—until you come to my love life.
Love life still zero, though lustful thoughts are on the up, thanks to the man I met at the café called Ruiz, who looks like a sex god and who thinks I’m a ‘cute kid’.
Oh, good. I am a twenty-three-year-old ‘kid’ with breasts and a Brazilian.
The wax?
I always was the glass-half-full type of girl, and judging by the pressure on the front of Ruiz’s jeans he could fill that glass very nicely indeed.
Not that she was looking for a boyfriend, but her readers didn’t need to know that where Holly was concerned it was a case of once bitten for ever shy. She had to light up the page not dwell on her mistakes, because it was all going wrong at ROCK! The job that should have been perfect for her, where she could be involved in things that mattered by working on the agony-aunt column, in however lowly a position, was on the line. She stared at the latest e-mail memo on her screen; it seemed she was about to be booted before she even got a chance to prove what she could do.
Latest figures dire. Agony column doomed unless reader numbers improve significantly. Need a diary feature to head the column—something juicy. Go, team! And remember: last in, first out. That means you, Holly.
Forcing her chin up, Holly flashed a promise-to-do-better smile at the staffer who had circulated the mail. What was Holly supposed to do to make things better—unless readers would be interested in the incredible -disappearing-sock story, or perhaps the find-a-white-bra-amidst-the-various-shades-of-grey scoop?
‘I’m on it,’ Holly assured the staffer on her way out of the office that night, adopting a seriously concerned expression. She was seriously concerned—for her job.
The staffer managed an even more seriously concerned expression. ‘Don’t want to lose you, Holly, but …’
The staffer was right. The column was dead unless someone came up with an idea fast.
Hiding behind other people’s problems instead of risking another Holly-picks-the-wrong-man-again screw-up had been an attractive proposition when she’d first come down to London, Holly reflected as she walked briskly through the Christmas shopping crowds to the bus stop. But now all she wanted was to take her new life by the scruff of the neck and make a success of it. Her days of hiding behind anything were over. And with no reader letters to answer hiding behind other people’s problems wasn’t an option, anyway. The sticking point with the failing agony-aunt column was that no one cared any more—people just moved on to the next relationship. It was uncool to admit you needed advice. She had to come up with something novel. If she failed she’d be back at that door with the peeling paintwork and steel mesh security panel to prevent it being kicked in, otherwise known as her first job disaster.
She’d been straight out of college and green as a cabbage when she rocked up at Frenzy, a well known magazine. Well-ish known, Holly amended, hailing a bus. She had thought herself really lucky to have such an exciting opportunity straight out of college, in what had turned out to be a badly lit call centre. ‘I’m supposed to be on the features desk?’ she had explained to the old man in carpet slippers who’d shown her around. It had turned out Holly’s desk was a length of chipped and yellowing plywood facing a peeling wall and she was to share said desk with around twenty other girls. The girls had been too busy speaking on the phone to notice Holly’s arrival, and at first she hadn’t been able to figure out why they were all working from dog-eared scripts and panting into microphones—until her mind had flicked rapidly through the pages of the magazine. Frenzy was quite raunchy, though nothing out of the ordinary until you came to the back pages where there were a lot of ads for services like Personal Tarot Readings, Massage By Britain’s Strongest Woman, or Chat To Chantelle In Perfect Confidence—
Oh …
‘Erm … I’d like to see my supervisor, please.’
And that had been the end of that.
She definitely wasn’t going back to some telephone sex dungeon, Holly determined as she arrived at the penthouse—or Acosta heaven, as she had come to think of her temporary lodgings. She was going to stay at ROCK! and make a success of the job she had. Once through the door, she carefully removed her shoes to preserve the immaculate gleam of the highly polished wooden floor. Shrugging her coat off, she draped it on a chair, shooting her bag, briefcase, newspaper, magazines and scarf into the mix. Just think. If she made a success of her career as a journalist she could own something like this herself one day …
Dream on, Holly thought, turning full circle in the huge marble-tiled hall. A vaulted glass ceiling with a fabulous view of the stars glittered overhead, while life-sized Roman busts that might have been originals from antiquity for all she knew stood on pedestals either side of the huge double doors. Not only was the cost of a place like this far beyond Holly’s wildest dreams, she would also have to learn how not to be clumsy. A lesson too far, perhaps? No wonder she felt on edge amidst this splendour—one sneeze and she could be bankrupt for life. But for now the penthouse was home, so she might as well make the most of it. Tonight was green face mask night. She did all her best thinking in the bath, so this soak was set to be a long one.
Fate played strange tricks sometimes, Ruiz thought, frowning thoughtfully as he put the phone down and sat back. After he’d been searching high and low for his sister, Lucia had called him up out of the blue, unprompted. He might have known if it was a question of loyalty to a friend, Lucia would break cover immediately. There had been a swift exchange of information and a deal had been brokered between them. Like Nacho, Ruiz was keen for his kid sister to make use of her qualifications rather than to waste her time hanging around the party circuit. Lucia would return to the real world if he agreed to maintain his silence on her current whereabouts. ‘But get home fast. On the next flight,’ he stressed.
‘So you don’t mind my friend Holly staying at the penthouse?’
‘Not at all.’ Fate was definitely playing into his hands, Ruiz reflected while Bouncer murmured with contentment as he rearranged his massive furry body on Ruiz’s feet. Apart from the dog’s future looking a whole lot rosier, Ruiz had asked enough questions to establish that the Holly he had met at the café and had felt an instant connection with was the same friend his sister had forgotten she had invited to stay. Confirmation of this had elicited several squeals of excitement from Lucia when she realised he had already met her best friend, while he was more than looking forward to a return match with Holly. And as for making up for his sister’s oversight—
‘There’s just one thing, Ruiz,’ Lucia said, interrupting these thoughts.
‘Which is?’ he prompted.
‘I gave Holly the impression that she would have the penthouse to herself.’
‘How was I supposed to know my town house would flood?’
‘Of course you couldn’t know, but—’
‘I need somewhere to stay,’ he pointed out. ‘My town house is within walking distance of the penthouse, so it makes perfect sense for me to stay there while the repairs are being carried out. I can keep an eye on the builders that way. Your friend Holly will just have to make room for me.’ Lucia knew as well as he that the penthouse had more than enough bedrooms and could comfortably fit a medium-sized house within its walls.
‘I’m sure she will,’ Lucia insisted. ‘I’m just asking you to be diplomatic, Ruiz.’
‘Aren’t I always?’
‘Er, no,’ his sister said.
‘There’s a first time for everything, Lucia.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘Is that it?’ he asked impatiently.
‘Play nice, Ruiz.’
That was easy. ‘I promise.’
‘Not too nice,’ Lucia added, concern returning to her voice. ‘Please try to remember that Holly is a good friend of mine.’
‘How could I forget?’ he said dryly. ‘Come on, Bouncer,’ he prompted. ‘I bet there’s a brand-new sofa at the penthouse for you to chomp on.’ There was certainly a female interest for Ruiz.
Scenting change in the air, Bouncer lifted his head to look at him. ‘You’re right,’ Ruiz agreed. ‘What are we waiting for? Let’s get moved in.’
This was the first time she had relaxed properly since arriving in London, Holly realised as she settled back in the deliciously scented foam bath. It was the first time she had trialled a bright green face pack also. Attempting to move her mouth, she quickly forgot the idea in case the face pack cracked. She also had a gloopy oil treatment on her hair and cooling discs of cucumber balanced precariously on her face to soothe her resting eyes. All these preparations were essential for clearing her mind ready for the Great Idea to drop in. It was a little worrying that so far no idea, great or otherwise, had shown the slightest inclination to drop by—
What was that?
Shooting up in alarm when she heard the front door opening, she snatched the cucumber from her eyes, switched off the bubbles and remained still, listening.
When she recognised the voice of the intruder she cracked the face pack.
What the hell was he doing here?
And should she be in any doubt at all as to the identity of the intruder a big dog was barking excitedly.
He hammered on the bathroom door. What the hell was Holly doing? He had arrived at the penthouse with all sorts of images in his mind—Holly freshly showered and scented, with her hair clean and gleaming, falling in soft waves around her shoulders, Holly with rosy cheeks instead of frozen-to-the marrow cheeks, her green eyes in harmony with the big smile on her welcoming face. He had not expected to discover that Holly appeared to be holding a garage sale in the hall—or to trip over the handles of her briefcase. Having expended some of his irritation in a few, well-chosen words, he now discovered she was in the bath.
This wasn’t going to plan. What was he supposed to do now?
‘Open this door now,’ he commanded.
What should she do? Holly wondered, still cowering in the bath. Ruiz from the café was threatening to break the door down. This didn’t make any sense. Who was he? Some kind of crazy? Had he followed her? More importantly, was he dangerous? ‘Where did you get the key?’ she yelled out.
‘From the key box,’ he yelled back.
‘And the code?’ she said suspiciously.
‘From my sister.’
‘Your sister?’ Holly’s brain went into overdrive, and then crashed.
‘My sister, Lucia Acosta,’ Ruiz shouted through the door.
Yes, she’d got that far.
So Ruiz was one of the notorious Acosta brothers. Holly had never met Lucia’s playboy brothers so couldn’t claim to know much about them, but she did know they were polo-playing bad boys, who, according to Lucia, rode rampage through the world’s women as well as their opponents on the field of play. ‘And what are you doing here?’ she demanded, swishing bubbles over her naked bits.
‘More questions, Holly?’
He could laugh at a time like this?
‘Why don’t you come out of the bathroom and speak to me face to face?’ Ruiz challenged.
Yes, she would, Holly determined, firming her jaw. She wasn’t going to cower in the bath. The house might belong to the Acosta family, but Lucia had been very clear when she had told Holly that the penthouse was empty and that Holly could have exclusive use of it until she found somewhere else to live. Lucia hadn’t mentioned brothers barging in without warning. ‘Shouldn’t you be in Argentina playing polo?’ she countered, playing for time as she turned the shower on to rinse the gunk out of her hair
‘I live and work in London,’ Ruiz called back. ‘Will you be long?’
‘As long as it takes.’ Did her nipples have to respond with such a ridiculous amount of interest to Ruiz’s shiver-inducing drawl?
Snagging a robe from the hook on the back of the door, she prepared to confront him. Belting it tightly, she reminded herself that new Holly didn’t run away, and that new Holly stayed to fight her corner. Braced for battle, she swung the door wide. They stood confronting each other for a moment and then Ruiz began to laugh. ‘What?’ Holly demanded. It was only when her frown deepened and bits of green gunk started dropping onto the floor that she realised she had forgotten to rinse the face mask off. With an imperious tilt to her chin, she backed into the bathroom and closed the door.
‘Would you like me to come back later?’ Ruiz jibed through the door.
Holly responded with something unrepeatable that only made him laugh. She quickly washed the face mask off with ice-cold water. She needed a shock to get over seeing Ruiz again. He shouldn’t be so stunning. It wasn’t fair.
‘Perhaps you’d like more time to compose yourself?’ Ruiz growled through the door.
‘I’m ready to see you any day of the week,’ she assured him, flinging it open. Okay, but maybe not today, Holly conceded as Ruiz gave her a lazy twice-over.
‘Something bothering you?’ he enquired.
‘I’m perfectly calm,’ she said as her cheeks fired red.
Ruiz met this with a sceptical huff. ‘Even when I tell you I’m planning to move in?’
‘You can’t move in!’ Holly exclaimed.
‘Can’t?’ Ruiz queried laconically.
‘Of course not. I’m living here,’ Holly protested indignantly.
‘So …?’ Ruiz shrugged.
‘So Lucia said I could have sole use of the penthouse until I find somewhere else to live, and—’
‘And do you have a contract to this effect?’ He was beginning to feel more like the big, bad wolf than the brother of Holly’s best friend. He was used to sophisticated women who knew the score, rather than girls like Holly, and was torn between indulging her and kissing the breath out of her lungs. Only Lucia’s plea that he should be on his best behaviour stood between them.
‘No, of course I don’t have a contract,’ she was protesting. ‘How can I when Lucia’s in—when Lucia’s away,’ she amended, clearly uncertain as to how much he knew about his sister’s whereabouts. ‘We have a verbal agreement.’
‘My sister acts on impulse sometimes,’ Ruiz agreed, easing confidently onto one hip.
He admired Holly’s loyalty and could only imagine how it might be having Lucia as a friend. This felt like new territory to Ruiz. His strategy had already gone out of the window. Then he was distracted by something flimsy and pink on the floor and noticed Holly’s face had turned a deeper shade of pink when she saw him looking at it. She quickly toed away the racy thong. ‘Lucia must have warned you I was coming?’ he pressed. ‘I can’t imagine my sister didn’t call you.’
‘Probably a thousand times,’ Holly agreed, no doubt imagining her best friend’s panic. ‘But my phone is in the bedroom.’
She saw the tension in Ruiz’s shoulders relax a little, but as he slowly looked her up and down Holly was sure that lazy gaze could easily penetrate anything as mundane as towelling.
‘Well, I’m here now. So I advise you to get used to it, Holly. May I suggest you get dressed while I go and settle Bouncer in?’
‘Bouncer?’ Holly exclaimed. She couldn’t hide the panic in her voice. ‘Is it wise to bring Bouncer in here?’ The damage the big dog could do to all the treasures in the penthouse didn’t bear thinking about.
‘Would you prefer me to leave him on the street?’
‘No, of course not, but—’
‘Or put him into kennels while my town house is being repaired?’
‘That would only distress him. You told me he’s a rescue dog.’
‘Precisely,’ Ruiz interrupted. He was serious for a moment, and then his expression changed to one Holly didn’t like at all. ‘I imagine Bouncer could have a field day in here unless he was properly supervised …’
