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‘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.
