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Ruby gulped in air to kick-start her lungs and took a moment to consider her response.
The good news was, Ruby Delisantro loved to flirt. And she was remarkably good at it. She adored the spark and sizzle of sexual attraction, the tantalising tension of verbal foreplay—and a chance to flirt with someone this good-look
ing didn’t present itself every day. Not only that, but the figure-hugging dress she’d picked up at Camden Market last week turned the extra weight she’d been carrying around since she was seventeen into a major asset.
The bad news was, Mr Super-Gorgeous also had a superlarge stick up his backside about women drivers and seemed to be virtually oblivious to her fabulous frock. Which meant he was either gay, a misogynist or didn’t have a sense of humour. Any one of which should have been a major turn-off.
Unfortunately they weren’t. Quite.
Hold it right there, Ruby.
She raised her gaze from her contemplation of his pectoral muscles. What was she thinking? She didn’t have time to flirt with this guy—no matter how spectacular he might look in a dorky T-shirt. She had to see a man about some cupcakes.
‘There was more than enough room to get past me,’ she replied tartly, sending him a hard stare. ‘And anyhow, it was an emergency.’ Sort of.
The direction of his gaze dipped to her mouth. She mentally crossed ‘gay’ off her list as her tongue slid out to moisten lips that had suddenly turned to parchment.
No flirting, Ruby. This is non-negotiable.
He huffed out an incredulous laugh. ‘Since when is putting lipstick on an emergency?’
‘I had my parking lights on,’ she continued, ignoring the jibe. Men were hard-wired not to understand the importance of lipstick, so she wasn’t about to explain how the simple act of putting it on could bolster one’s confidence in a business situation. ‘And you ran into me.’ She strutted towards him, grateful her four-inch heels went some way to correcting the height disadvantage.
Maybe she didn’t have time to flirt. But she certainly had time to make him suffer.
‘And if you had ever bothered to read your Highway Code,’ she added, ‘you’d know that puts you in the wrong. No matter how much testosterone you’re packing.’
She flicked a contemptuous glance at his crotch to emphasise the point. Only to have her gaze snag on the prominent package displayed by the loose-fitting denims. A flush burned the back of her neck, stunning her even more—Ruby Delisantro was not and had never been a blusher.
He stepped forward—making her far too aware of exactly how tall he was.
‘Those are hazard lights,’ he said, the rich, masculine voice low and amused. ‘Not parking lights.’ He crossed his arms, making his biceps bunch under the short sleeves of his dorky T-shirt, and Ruby lost her train of thought completely.
‘And if you’d bothered to read your Highway Code you’d know that,’ he continued. ‘No matter how much oestrogen you’re packing.’
His head dipped again, the glint of August sunlight on the dark lenses of his shades doing nothing to disguise the fact that he was staring straight at her cleavage.
‘And while I can see that’s rather a lot,’ he continued, a superior smile curving sensual lips, ‘it’s no excuse not to follow the rules of the road.’
Ruby’s nipples puckered into hard points and the throb of something hot and uncomfortable swelled between her thighs. She resisted the urge to squirm. Barely.
Okay, this was just plain wrong. He was telling her off and turning her on at one and the same time. She might love to flirt, but she was not a masochist.
She slapped a hand on her hip.
‘I don’t do rules,’ she purred, pointing a coral-tipped nail at the centre of his chest. A muscle in his jaw clenched and power surged through her. ‘It makes life so dull, don’t you think?’
She lifted her finger, satisfied she’d won, only to gasp when his hand shot out and long fingers clamped on her wrist. He pulled off his sunglasses, and she shivered involuntarily, stunned by the deep forest-green of his irises.
‘Sounds to me like you need more than just driving lessons,’ he murmured, the emerald stare so penetrating her thigh muscles turned to mush.
She tugged her hand free, hoping he hadn’t felt her pulse hitting warp speed under his thumb. ‘And like all men, I suppose you think you’re man enough to teach me,’ she scoffed. So what if she was playing with fire? She could see the heat smouldering in his eyes, making the rush of adrenaline so intoxicating it didn’t leave much room for caution.
He gave a gruff chuckle. ‘I’m not like other men,’ he said softly, his confidence matching those come-to-bed eyes.
Ruby rubbed her wrist where the skin sizzled. ‘That’s what they all say.’
‘No doubt,’ he said, not sounding daunted. ‘But I can prove it. The question is are you woman enough to let me?’
