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Once they were inside the café he reached behind the counter and grabbed a towel, which he tossed to her.
‘Well caught,’ he said as she gasped and snatched hold of the towel. ‘May I suggest you wipe the worst of the mud off your clothes?’
‘Won’t they mind?’ Holly said worriedly, throwing a guilty glance at the counter staff.
‘They’ll mind more if you don’t wipe it off before you sit down,’ the man observed, curving his attractive smile again.
Men as good-looking as he was could do as they liked, Holly concluded as she watched him return the towel with a few words of thanks to the staff. There wasn’t one complaint. And why should there be? she thought as he shrugged off his jacket and everyone turned to look. Who wouldn’t want a better view of that body? Holly mused as her gaze roved reluctantly past the well-packed jeans to the crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled back to display a pair of massive forearms. Her day had definitely improved. Until the girls behind the counter started flirting with him and she felt a stab of something unexpected.
And a warning that drew a parallel between this man and her ex. The ex had been good-looking too, and had packed a certain degree of charisma—not pure, one hundred per cent gold star charisma like this man, but enough—until she had scratched the surface and found the base metal underneath—
‘I’ll get the coffee,’ he said, distracting her, ‘while you grab a table.’
She registered a shivery reflex when the man touched her shoulder and was powerless to hide the quiver of awareness that streaked through her. He must have felt it too. He had, Holly concluded, noticing how the steady gaze was now laced with humour. ‘You might want to wipe some of the dirt off your backside before you sit down?’ he murmured discreetly.
The fact that he’d noticed her backside was concerning. Craning her neck, Holly groaned.
‘The ladies’ room is just over there,’ one of the waitresses supplied helpfully.
‘Why don’t you leave your suitcase with me?’
She looked at the man and evaluated her choices. She could leave her belongings with someone she didn’t know, or struggle back through the crowded café with a large case in tow.
‘You can trust me,’ he said, reading her.
And you know what they say about people who tell you you can trust them, Holly thought.
‘In my case it happens to be true,’ he said evenly as if reading her mind were second nature to him.
She left the case.
Trying to ignore the amused glances of the up-market clientele, Holly retraced her steps through the café. As her face heated up under the critical scrutiny she realised that for the short time she’d been with him the man had made her feel good about herself. She didn’t want to sit down in their fancy-pants café anyway. They probably charged twice as much here for a latte as they did at the popular chain down the road—
But rebuilding Holly meant never running away. And was she seriously going to make some pathetic excuse and leave an attractive man in the lurch?
Having cleaned herself up, she returned to find him reading the financial pages with her suitcase stowed safely at his feet. ‘I had to guess what you’d like,’ he said, setting the newspaper down.
‘Skinny latte and a toasted cheese and tomato ciabatta? You’re spoiling me—’
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘I was ordering lunch, and I thought you might like some too.’
‘Thank you.’ An honest man was a refreshing change too. ‘It looks delicious …?’
‘Ruiz,’ he supplied, reaching over the table to shake her hand.
‘Holly.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Holly.’
A lightning bolt shot up her arm when they shook hands. And she shouldn’t be staring at him like this. ‘Ruiz?’ she said. ‘I love your name. It’s so unusual.’
‘My mother devoured romantic novels while she was pregnant. Mediterranean heroes?’
‘I was born on Christmas day.’
They laughed.
And now it occurred to her that she couldn’t remember the last time she had relaxed with a man. Laughing at the ex’s jokes was expected, even demanded, but laughing because she was happy only brought accusations that she was braying like a donkey. So she didn’t laugh.
