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‘In Paris?’
‘No need to sound so snippy,’ he said, sitting up to bait her with a stare. ‘Not jealous, are we?’ And just like that the dark, dangerous eyes were laughing again.
But after the bimbo affair Holly refused to be won over quite so easily. ‘I’m not at all jealous of you,’ she said crisply. ‘I’ve seen your friends.’
‘You’ve seen a passing acquaintance,’ Ruiz assured her, ‘who has now passed.’
‘Away? How unfortunate.’
‘Into history, I was about to say. Don’t be sarcastic, Holly,’ Ruiz warned, pretending to be stern. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’
She turned back to the keyboard, hurting inside. Even a mistress who had passed into history was a mistress too far. ‘I suppose I can use the story for the column,’ she muttered.
‘If you don’t want the shoes …’
Holly stiffened. ‘Are you saying you bought the shoes for me?’
‘I bought the blonde shoes—’
‘What a gentleman you are,’ Holly interrupted acidly. ‘How thoughtful of you.’
‘Holly,’ Ruiz droned good-humouredly, ‘I bought the shoes to replace the ones you broke, but the blonde decided she’d prefer a cheque for a somewhat larger amount, so I took the shoes back to the store—’
‘Do I need to hear this?’
‘I just want to make it clear
that I’m not giving you anyone’s leftovers. I bought them for you. Don’t you want to see them?’
‘For me?’ she said suspiciously, hating the way her voice was trembling. ‘You bought shoes … for me?’ She turned to find Ruiz looking less confident than usual, or maybe she was delusional, which was entirely possible. In the end curiosity got the better of her. There was nothing wrong with taking a look. She could only hope Ruiz’s taste in shoes was an improvement on his taste in women. She could fake it for the column, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t fake anything for Ruiz, though he stood a serious risk of having the shoes land heavily on his head if this was another of his jokes!
‘Before we came to the mutual decision that cash was king the blonde chose some trashy, sparkly things, like the ones you stomped on,’ Ruiz explained, handing the box over. ‘I thought they looked better in pieces, frankly, and so I chose these. What do you think?’
Did shoe heaven cover it? The leather was the softest she had ever felt, the heel was the highest, the colour was a beautiful pale dove grey. And the sole was scarlet. ‘I think …’ They’re divine, Holly thought, feeling a quiver of excitement at the prospect of wearing them. She could never have afforded shoes like these … ‘I think you should return them to the shop,’ she said, remembering the advice she had given one of her readers in capital letters on this very subject: ‘Never Accept Expensive Gifts From Men. Why? Because it puts you in their debt.’ And the piece hadn’t even gone to press yet, sensible Holly reminded drooling Holly sternly. ‘As they haven’t been worn I think you could get a full refund,’ she said, placing the shoe back in its box.
‘What’s wrong with them?’ Ruiz demanded, removing his crossed feet from the table and sitting up straight.
‘I never accept gifts like this from men.’
‘Well, that’s a habit you should change right away,’ Ruiz observed dryly. ‘I suppose it also means I can’t take you out to supper tonight—though if you feel badly about it, I can always let you pay …’
Ruiz was asking her out?
No. Ruiz was asking her to take him out, which gave Holly a problem. If this had been a straightforward invitation to supper she could refuse, but seeing as she was taking up half a penthouse that was rightfully his, the least she could do was stand Ruiz a meal …
‘Perhaps if we go out I’ll get a chance to talk to you about paying a fair rent to live here,’ Holly murmured thoughtfully. To date, both Ruiz and Lucia had refused to take any money from her, while Holly’s house-hunting efforts had swung disastrously between scratching sounds behind the skirting boards to smelly drains, and even, on one memorable viewing, an infestation of ants. ‘Rent?’ she prompted, seeing now that there was something very worrying in Ruiz’s eyes.
‘What a great idea,’ he agreed mildly. ‘Trust you to come up with something.’
The day improved when Holly arrived at ROCK! to find she had been given her own office with two assistants to help her, which she had to take as a sign that the agony-aunt column was on the up. ‘But let’s not get carried away,’ she cautioned the two girls sent to help her. ‘This is still early days, and—’
‘You’ve worked a miracle so we can all keep our jobs?’ Pixie suggested.
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ Holly argued red-faced.
‘You have to carry on living with the playboy now … poor you,’ Freya said, exchanging a wry look with Pixie. ‘Not that we’re jealous, or anything.’
What would Ruiz have to say about that? Holly wondered, feeling the buzz inside her ramp up a gear at the thought that she had to go out to supper tonight with him.
