The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta

Ruiz gave her a quizzical look. ‘It’s very good of you to come with me.’

Was it? Even in jeans and a crisp white shirt Ruiz looked amazing and exuded class, while Holly was increasingly aware of buying something just because it was in the sale that really didn’t suit her and that was now clinging unattractively to her bargain-basement body.

‘Would you like to dance?’ Ruiz suggested.

‘With you?’

‘Were you thinking of dancing with someone else?’ he queried with a sultry growl.

‘In front of everyone?’

‘That is the usual way.’

‘Won’t people talk? So many people seem to know who you are.’

‘And if they do?’

‘I don’t want you to be unmasked,’ Holly whispered dramatically, thinking she had found the perfect excuse not to dance with the playboy in public.

‘Do they give you a byline on the Playboy column these days?’ Ruiz asked innocently.

‘No, of course they don’t put my name on the column. I’m part of a team—’

Stop! Stop Talking NOW, Holly’s inner voice advised, before you dig the hole any deeper. Of course no one knew who she was. She was just another of Ruiz’s many female friends as far as the people at the club were concerned. ‘Shall we chat and eat first?’ she suggested, red-faced.

For a moment she thought Ruiz would argue and insist on dancing, but he just said, ‘Whatever you like,’ and picked up the menu.

And now she was disappointed. A hemp sack and a bowl of lentils was pretty much what she deserved, Holly concluded. Burying her head in the menu, she mentally revisited the conversation where Ruiz had made it clear that this evening was all about entertaining his sister’s friend.

‘Are you going to relax any time soon, Holly?’

She looked up. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a bit overwhelmed by all this.’

‘All this?’

‘I feel a bit out of place here, to be honest.’ Whereas Ruiz was so confident and so good-looking he was at ease anywhere.

‘Out of place? Why should you say that? I can’t think of anyone who deserves a night off more than you do, Holly. Since the moment I met you, you’ve been working all hours.’

‘But all these people are so—’ She snatched a breath as Ruiz’s hand touched her arm.

‘Choose something to eat,’ he prompted.

Studying the menu, and actually reading it this time, Holly gulped when she saw the prices. When the waiter arrived to take their order she told him that a starter-sized salad would be enough for her. Shaking his head, Ruiz countermanded that idea and ordered for her. ‘You don’t have to eat what I’ve ordered for you,’ he explained, ‘but if you’re going to continue working at the pace you do, one lettuce leaf and a spoonful of dressing isn’t enough to keep you going.’

Ruiz’s amused glance lasted a little longer this time and as she held it something told Holly that if she could relax they might be friends. After all, Ruiz was her best friend’s brother, and she loved Lucia …

The meal Ruiz had ordered for Holly was delicious. He had chosen perfectly. The most delicious halibut she had ever tasted came with side orders of buttered spinach, roasted tomatoes, and creamy mashed potatoes. Ruiz devoured an epic steak, and after the meal they drank strong, aromatic coffee as they watched professional dancers giving an eye-popping demonstration of how the samba should be danced. Surely, Ruiz couldn’t expect her to do that? Holly thought, imagining how she might interpret the hip grinding and pelvic thrusting, which the professional dancers managed to turn into something so erotic, and yet so stylish. It might look rather different if she took to the floor. And then there were the outfits. The woman’s costume was glittery and filmy, barely a whisper of aquamarine chiffon decorated with diamanté, while the man’s black trousers might have been sprayed on—

‘And now we dance,’ Ruiz announced when the applause had died down.

‘I don’t think so,’ Holly protested, sitting deeper in her chair.

Ruiz gave her no option. Making her gasp as he lifted her out of the seat, he lowered her onto a dance floor crowded with couples only too eager to show what they could do. ‘You can’t force me,’ Holly protested, turning to go.

‘And you can’t resist the music.’ He brought her back again.

Short of drawing attention to herself, she had no option but to go through the motions of dancing one samba, Holly concluded. She was just gearing herself up to do this when another man, crowned with the same menacing glamour as Ruiz, strode up to them. Swinging a welcoming arm around Ruiz’s shoulders, he exclaimed, ‘Hello, my friend. Long time no see.’ His gaze remained fixed on Holly’s face—assessing and no doubt drawing all the wrong conclusions, she thought. This must be the Brazilian friend Ruiz had told her about, Holly concluded as the two men exchanged a fierce hug.