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Probably, Holly thought as Ruiz, having told her to relax, firmed his grip. ‘That’s better,’ he approved as she began to move a little more confidently to the music, but then he added, ‘I think you have been less than honest with me, Holly.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her head shot up.
‘You can dance,’ Ruiz said, smiling.
She smiled back, feeling good inside. Her hand felt right in his, and with Ruiz’s arm around her waist, his fingers lightly holding her, she realised she liked being part of a couple—this couple—however fleeting this chance of being with Ruiz might be. They moved well together, easily, as if they had been dancing this way all their lives. She had never made a show of herself like this before, yet here she was, dancing in public with a man born to use his body expertly, while she was twirling and flirting with her hips and with her eyes—
What was the worst that could happen? She could make a fool of herself? Something told her Ruiz would never allow that to happen.
‘You’re not even treading on my feet,’ he said dryly, dipping his head to direct this observation with a smile into her eyes.
‘Nor you on mine,’ she agreed.
‘Unusual for me,’ Ruiz remarked, smiling wickedly again.
She loved it when he teased her. She loved … Unfortunately for her peace of mind, she loved most things about Ruiz.
The samba was fast and flirty. If she had chosen to represent each of them with a dance it would be the passionate tango for Ruiz and an energetic barn dance with more gusto than panache for Holly. But somehow they were meeting in the middle with this highly charged, fast-moving pas de deux that left her little time to wonder if she was doing it right. No time to think, no time to feel self-conscious. Just fun and laughter, flashing eyes, and moving her body to the rhythm of the music in a way she wouldn’t have believed possible until tonight.
‘Now you’re really getting into it,’ Ruiz approved as he spun her round.
‘You know I’m only doing my best to keep up.’
‘No. You have a natural flair,’ Ruiz insisted, drawing her close again.
‘Not really. There are some great dancers here.’ And Ruiz was one of them, as every woman in the club seemed to agree. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her face, Holly thought as she relished the unaccustomed sensation of being pressed up close against him. Tough, hard and strong, Ruiz might look like a swarthy bad boy on the rampage, but he moved like a dream.
And this was a man whose reputation made Casanova seem like a choir boy. And what had happened the last time she had allowed herself to be lulled into a trancelike state by a good-looking man? Images of half-empty wine bottles and crisp packets piled up on a carpet of chocolate wrappers crowded into her head. Did she really want to go back there? Not that Ruiz had any need of her money.
‘I’ve lost you,’ he chided as the dance floor began to clear. ‘Where are you now, Holly? Worrying about the steps for the next dance?’ he suggested as the music started up again.
There couldn’t be a next dance if she wanted to keep any sense of reality where Ruiz was concerned. Her less than platonic feelings for him could only mean she was setting herself up for a fall. ‘Shouldn’t we be getting back for Bouncer?’
‘The dog?’ Ruiz gave her one of his looks. ‘Didn’t I take him out for the longest walk ever before we came here?’
‘He has been on his own for rather a long time.’
‘And will be asleep by now, I have no doubt,’ Ruiz assured her, his sexy eyes darkening in a smile. And then the infectious beat started up again. The moment his hand found the hollow in the small of her back she was lost. They were good together—frighteningly good.
When the dance ended Ruiz held her at arm’s length. ‘I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much, Holly.’
Was he serious? The adrenalin rush that had been brought on by dancing with Ruiz was subsiding, leaving a gap for Holly’s self-esteem issues to fill.
‘Thank you for tonight,’ he said.
‘I won’t put your toes in danger again, I promise.’
‘Where are you going?’ Ruiz caught hold of her.
‘To get my coat. To call a taxi.’ She held up her hand when Ruiz seemed as if he might argue with her. ‘You don’t have to leave. Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ruiz.’
Dipping his head low, Ruiz stared into her eyes. ‘Do you think I’m going to let you call a cab and leave the club on your own?’
‘I’m not a baby, Ruiz. And you don’t have to spoil your night just because I’m going home.’
‘I brought you here. I’m taking you home. And, anyway, it’s too late for you to be out on your own.’
If Ruiz was talking about the dangers of the night he would come top of her list. ‘I’ll be fine in a cab,’ Holly insisted. ‘If it makes you feel better, why don’t you call a reputable company of your own choosing?’
