Untamed Bachelors: When He Was Bad... / Interview with a Playboy / The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta. Kathryn Ross
Untamed Bachelors: When He Was Bad... / Interview with a Playboy / The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta
pulled her coat tighter, straightened her spine, hitched her bag higher. ‘I can take care of myself.’
‘Yeah, right. Alone, past midnight, in this seedy area. Where’s your car?’
‘I don’t own a car. And I happen to live in this seedy area.’ He didn’t miss the light of contempt in her eyes.
Along with her list of criticisms, did she think him prejudiced? He couldn’t decide whether it amused or annoyed him. ‘How are you getting home?’
‘Public transport.’
‘My car’s across the road. I’ll drop you off.’
‘It’s—’
‘Non-negotiable.’ He placed a silencing finger against her lips.
Heat, as her sharp exhalation of breath streamed over his fingertip. Friction, as his finger drifted lightly over her lips. Desire, sharp and swift, as her lips parted the tiniest bit. In surprise? Or something else? He couldn’t be sure, and for a pulse beat or two he thought she might yield and open further. But she remained completely still.
‘Non-negotiable, Ellie.’ He pressed his thumb to her lower lip, watching her eyes darken to an intense charcoal in the dimness. ‘So get used to the idea quickly.’
ELLIE didn’t move, didn’t pull away, even as a throng of raucous patrons spilled from the bar and ambled past, their voices raised in some tuneless song. The night breeze, pungent with the sting of exhaust fumes, wrapped around them. In the distance an alarm wailed. He wanted to press his momentary advantage, replace his thumb with his mouth and relive that first kiss.
He could almost smell the desire on her skin, but he didn’t push it. She stepped back, eyes flicking away, as if giving him eye contact might betray her. She scanned the row of parked cars. ‘Let me guess—yours is the champagne-tinted convertible.’
‘Sorry to disappoint—it’s the little bent and black ninety-six Ford.’ He couldn’t resist adding, ‘My Ferrari’s in Sydney.’
Her laugh was spontaneous and unexpected and she seemed as surprised as he. ‘I knew it,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘Red?’
‘Is there any other colour?’ With a light hand at her back, he steered her across the road.
Ellie practically fell onto the seat, willing her pulse to settle down while Matt rounded the car. Good Lord, just that single thumb print on her lower lip had turned her inside out. If he hadn’t stopped—oh, she did not want to think about it. He made her weak. Made her want…what she couldn’t have.
By the time he’d climbed into his seat she’d managed to halfway calm herself. She directed him to a street about a kilometre away. She spent a moment studying the car’s interior rather than the width of Matt’s more than capable hands on the steering wheel, focusing on the engine’s rough-throated purr rather than the scent of clean masculine skin.
But as they neared her apartment her breathing changed for very different reasons. And with every passing moment the band beneath her breastbone tightened.
She’d always sensed Heath’s low opinion of her previous apartment even though he’d never voiced it. As if her living conditions reflected her worth as a human being. She might have been in love with him but her self-confidence and sense of self-worth had taken a battering and never fully recovered. Compared to this dump it had been a palace.
Would Matt the squillionaire businessman judge her the same way? And why did it suddenly seem to matter if he did? ‘You can drop me off here,’ she said, ready to jump out and flee the moment they stopped.
The building she lived in was crammed between the abandoned car park of a graffiti-covered warehouse and a row of currently untenanted shops.
Matt slowed to a stop. ‘This your place?’
His tone didn’t change but her stomach clenched tighter. ‘Yes.’ She knew what he was thinking. She just knew it. She would not let it bring her down.
She reached for the doorhandle. Before she could thank him and escape, he was out of the car and rounding the bonnet.
‘No need to see me inside—I live upstairs,’ she said, climbing out. Somewhere nearby a cat yowled and the din of metal rolling down the street broke the night’s stillness.
‘How long have you lived here?’
‘A couple of months.’ She remembered him quipping about his Ferrari. ‘Would it help if I said I used to live in Toorak?’ she said, forcing humour into her voice as she mentioned one of Melbourne’s most affluent suburbs.
He didn’t return her smile. ‘Only if it helps you.’
It didn’t and her smile faded. Those days were gone. Once upon a time, before the people she loved had been erased from her life for ever, her world had been very different.
But his voice helped. Smooth and steady and even, like a still lake, soothing the rough edges around her heart. Until she looked up into his eyes and saw the storm, all dark and brooding and beautiful. Reminding her that she didn’t want to get involved. With anyone, ever again.
‘Thanks for the lift.’ She paused before adding, ‘And thanks for your assistance at the bar tonight.’
‘No worries.’ He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.
She hesitated. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
He nodded. ‘You’re coming. Good.’
‘I didn’t get the bar job, so yes.’ She shrugged, trying for philosophical, failing miserably.
‘Because it wasn’t the right job for you.’ There was something in his eyes. Not sympathy—she didn’t want sympathy, nor did she need it. Understanding?
She stood, rooted to the spot, watching him while he jingled his car keys. What the hell would he understand about the tough non-corporate world of low finance?
‘Goodnight, Ellie.’ He touched his lips to hers. A token kiss, almost impersonal. No sexual undertones. Nothing she could call him on.
And nothing to get herself in a lather about.
Because now he’d watched her lose a job on the first night and seen where she lived, what other kind of kiss could it be?
She stepped away before she kissed him back and made it into something it wasn’t. ‘Goodnight.’
She turned abruptly and made it through the entry door and halfway along the common hallway before the door behind her opened again. She looked over her shoulder. Matt’s silhouette filled the space and a thrill of excitement shivered down her spine before she could stop it. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Damn right something’s wrong.’ He stepped inside and walked towards her, his shoes echoing on the worn concrete floor, his features growing clearer as he neared. ‘I should be ashamed of myself. Kissing you that way.’
Huh? Her mouth fell open in astonishment and she remained where she was, sure her heartbeat would wake the entire building. ‘It’s okay.’ The words trembled out. ‘I didn’t—’
‘Since when do you let a guy kiss you like that and get away with it?’ He gripped her shoulders. Walked her back until her shoulders touched the wall, eyes glittering in the dim stairwell’s light. His face was close, his hands possessive, stroking down her upper arms.
With what little strength she had left, she hugged her handbag in front of her like a shield. ‘Depends…On who’s doing the kissing.’ Oh, good Lord, had she said that aloud, and in that thin reedy voice that seemed to be coming from someone else?
His sensuous