Читать книгу 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, Susan Stephens - Страница 8

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 …’

‘I agree,’ she said. She didn’t like Ruiz’s tone, but it did seem as if he might have seen the light where the dangers of breakages were concerned.

‘But with you to watch him while I’m away—’

‘Me?’ Holly exclaimed. ‘You can’t go away and leave Bouncer with me.’

Recognising his name, Bouncer, no doubt remembering the fuss Holly had given him the first time they met, padded over to the bathroom door and sat at her feet. What was she supposed to do? Ignore him? Bending down, she gave the dog a proper welcome, which Bouncer took as his cue to clean her all over again.

‘Look how pleased he is to see you,’ Ruiz said in a coaxing tone that set more alarm bells than ever ringing. ‘How can you possibly turn him away?’

Holly sighed, but the look she reserved for Ruiz was not at all kind-hearted. He got the special hard look she was working on to deter those who thought they could put one over on new Holly. Ruiz responded to this with the lift of one ebony brow and a look that reminded Holly that, unlike his dog, Ruiz was dangerous. The Acosta brothers were notorious playboys with hair-raising reputations, and like Lucia, they inhabited a very different world from Holly.

So? Keep your nerve and fight fire with fire.

‘Bouncer,’ Holly murmured fondly, choosing to ignore the dog’s master for now. ‘Are you looking for a little mayhem?’ Gazing up, she threw the gauntlet straight back in Ruiz’s face. ‘You are? Good boy. There’s a lot of scope for you here.’ Game on.

The look Ruiz gave her now made Holly’s heart beat a rapid tattoo. She should have remembered that Ruiz Acosta was an international sportsman who liked nothing better than a challenge, and in spite of her tough talk Holly’s self-confidence was as fragile as a sugar strand. Making her handsome parents proud of their unaccountably plain daughter by winning a full scholarship to a prestigious school had been one of the high spots of Holly’s life, until she’d discovered how the other, more privileged girls had felt about it. It was only when Lucia, easily the most envied girl in the school, had palled up with her that Holly’s confidence had slowly returned. Well, that sugar strand had just snapped and now she was steeped in self-doubt again.

‘I’m going to have a beer and then I’m going to the gym,’ Ruiz said. ‘Make sure you’ve cleared up your mess by the time I get back.’

Yes, master. Holly’s face burned red, but for once she remained sensibly silent.

Please don’t hurry back, Holly thought, catching her breath against the bathroom door. She needed time to think. She could hear Ruiz moving about in the kitchen, but for a moment she did nothing, thought nothing, barely breathed, until, pulling herself round, she came to exactly the same conclusion: this wasn’t going to work. Living with a playboy when she was still recovering from the most disastrous love affair of all time? How could she share the same space as a man as brazenly masculine and as unswervingly domineering as Ruiz Acosta? If Ruiz was moving in, she was moving out—

And that was exactly what she would have done had not sensible Holly chosen that moment to intervene and remind flustered Holly that she would still have to sort out alternative accommodation first, and that in the meantime she had no alternative other than to get along with Ruiz. Let’s face it, she thought our paths don’t even need to cross in a penthouse this size.

‘Can we just get one thing straight?’ she said to Ruiz, entering the kitchen after having thrown on her fat jeans, as opposed to her I’ve-lost-weight jeans, together with her oldest, most comfortable shirt. She had left her hair to dry naturally, and bother the make-up—she wasn’t interested in men. She merely wanted to catch Ruiz before he left for the gym and set a few things straight.

He paused with the bottle of beer hovering close to his mouth.

Sexy mouth …

Concentrate, Holly told herself firmly. They had to get things out in the open if living together stood any chance of working.

‘Yes?’ Ruiz prompted.

Did he have to have such gorgeous eyes? Did he have to angle that stubble-shaded chin to stare at her? Did his mouth have to curve in that infectious and very dangerous smile? ‘When you say you’re going away,’ she said, feeling her throat dry as she forced her gaze somewhere to the west of Ruiz’s left ear, ‘don’t you mean going away as in flying to Argentina to play polo with your brothers?’

‘That will be my next trip,’ Ruiz confirmed, his dark eyes watchful.

‘So this isn’t just the occasional weekend we’re talking about—this is full-on adoption of a huge, lollopy dog.’

‘Temporary guardianship,’ Ruiz corrected her, ‘of my dog.’

He made it sound like a royal command—a privilege. And if there hadn’t been such a lovely dog involved …

Ruiz showed no shame, Holly concluded. ‘You’re going to leave Bouncer at the penthouse I’ve been cautiously tiptoeing around. May I remind you that Bouncer has a huge fluffy tail and four big feet?’

‘Your feet are lovely,’ Ruiz observed, completely taking the wind out of her sails.

He wasn’t supposed to say things like that and sound as if he meant it. Now all she could think about was the fact that she hadn’t put shoes on because she’d been in too much of a hurry to speak to Ruiz before he went out.

Concentrate, Holly told herself fiercely as Ruiz curved a questioning smile. There was no point giving him any more satisfaction than she already had. ‘What you’re suggesting,’ she hissed in a low, urgent voice as if Bouncer could understand them, ‘is a licence for carnage.’ Couldn’t she create enough of that on her own? Holly reasoned. She was just recoiling from the mental image of the type of carnage Bouncer could create when The Idea dropped in.

No one said it was going to arrive at the most convenient time, Holly reasoned as Ruiz began to frown. ‘What now?’ she prompted.

‘I was just thinking that it’s not like you to be silent for so long. You are feeling okay, aren’t you?’ Holly’s warning look only succeeded in making Ruiz’s eyes glow a little brighter. ‘Anyway,’ he added offhandedly, ‘I’m going out.’

But she wanted to float her idea. ‘No, wait.’

‘Missing me already?’ Ruiz suggested with maximum irony.

‘Not one bit,’ she snapped. ‘In fact, please don’t feel you must hurry back.’

This provoked a crooked smile that lodged attractively in Ruiz’s stubble-darkened cheek. ‘I love it when a plan comes together, don’t you?’ he said. And when Holly gritted her teeth in order not to say something she would regret, he added, ‘I understand you’d probably like a little time to prepare yourself properly for my return.’

‘Prepare myself properly?’ Holly exploded. ‘Who do you think you are? The Sheikh of Araby? I was merely pondering the possibility of doing some work without any further interruption,’ she assured him primly.

‘Oh, come on, Holly,’ Ruiz murmured. ‘You and I both know that too much work and no play will make you a very dull girl indeed. See you after the gym?’ he said, his eyes dark and dangerous.

‘I can’t wait,’ Holly called after him sarcastically. Living with a playboy wouldn’t be easy, but at least Ruiz had given her The Idea.

Bravo! Holly-the-journalist!

Except … there was one small problem. She already knew Ruiz didn’t like Holly poking her nose into his business.

But what was he going to do—refuse her offer to dog-sit in London while he was playing polo in Argentina? She didn’t think so. She’d seen the glint in Ruiz’s eyes. He’d gone in hard, thinking she would quickly fall into line. He had expected her to offer to help him in any way she could. Well, she might—on one condition that Ruiz helped her too. He must give her some titbits to write about. If he did, living with a playboy might not be so bad after all. In fact, it might just save her bacon. The column she had in mind would be an observational piece—meaning she could safely witness the life of a playboy while remaining at a prudent distance. This would be like confronting her demons from behind a screen. To save her career she would lift the lid on living with a playboy for her readers. Why shouldn’t everyone else laugh at her trials and tribulations? She did.

* * *

Slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, he left his luggage in the hall and stormed out of the penthouse. The only solution, Ruiz had concluded, was to pound his way out of frustration. Having been knocked for six—or was that sex?—by the sight of Holly with her glorious redgold hair streaming around her shoulders like a gleaming cape, Holly half naked with her creamy flesh just visible above the robe, he was painfully threatening to burst out of his jeans. In that respect, she had exceeded his expectations. Truthfully? He had never felt like this before. If Holly had been staying in Lucia’s garden apartment he could have just about coped, but having her stay with him at the penthouse only yards from his bed?

Gritting his teeth, Ruiz lifted his own body weight above his head, but nothing helped to blank out the voluptuous woman waiting for him back at the penthouse. And hard as he tried he could find no solution to the problem. He wouldn’t touch a friend of Lucia’s. He couldn’t eject a friend of Lucia’s from the penthouse, either. So must he put his own life on hold? He could hardly entertain while Holly was in residence. Lowering the bar slowly back into its cups, he made a silent pledge not to go near her. He could only hope for Holly’s sake that she found somewhere else to live as soon as she could.

He had left Bouncer with the girls on Reception where his faithful hound was sure to get a spoiling. The dog bounded up to him, seeming as excited as he was at the prospect of returning home.

Not excited, Ruiz told himself firmly. Certainly not excited to get back to the penthouse and find Holly waiting for him. It had been a long, hard day, and when he opened the door on what was supposed to be a luxurious hideaway in the best part of London, there would be girl stuff everywhere. No doubt the kitchen would be a mess, and, having seen the state of the hall, he had no doubt Holly would have trialled every bathroom by the time he got back, strewing damp towels all over the place. All he longed for was a good night’s sleep, but with a big dog to care for checking into a hotel was out of the question. The penthouse, with its stunning views of London and seductive luxury, should have been perfect, and it might have been, had he not had an unexpected—and frustratingly unsettling—lodger to entertain.

Okay, so he’d set some ground rules.

‘Come on, Bouncer,’ Ruiz prompted, snapping the leash onto the dog’s collar. ‘Let’s get this over with.’