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‘Maddy, calm down. I’m here,’ he said, his voice sharp with impatience. He ran his fingers through his hair as he listened to the reply.
Maddy. The sister Cal had mentioned that morning. But even as Ruby made the connection the rush of relief she would have expected refused to come.
‘I forgot about the party,’ he continued, sounding annoyed now. ‘It’s not the end of the world. Mia’s three, she won’t even notice if I’m there or not.’
Ruby stepped back. She should return to the bedroom before he caught her eavesdropping, but the sound of Cal’s voice—so stiff and irritable—made her stop in the doorway.
The long-forgotten memory of pain and humiliation rose back to the surface as she continued to listen to him reason coldly with his sister.
‘It’s too late now,’ Cal argued, his voice devoid of emotion.
He sounded like a stranger, the flat, dismissive tone nothing like the relaxed, charismatic man she had thought she knew. How could she have been so wrong about him?
‘I’m up to my eyes in work,’ he added, the brittle excuse nothing short of brutal. ‘I can’t make it this weekend.’
Ruby straightened, pushing away from the doorframe. That was a lie. Why was he lying? Then she knew and a tidal wave of guilt assailed her. He hadn’t been busy with work. He’d been busy with her.
She walked silently back to the bedroom, tuning out the conversation she’d overheard—and wished she hadn’t—hideously disappointed not just with Callum now, but also with herself.
She hadn’t just been wrong about him, she’d also been wrong about the situation she’d happily flung herself into.
Sex always came with complications. Even the wild weekend fling kind.
‘Look, Maddy, I’ll think about it. Okay?’
‘Please come, Cal. It’s been months since we’ve seen you,’ Maddy said with a weary lack of expectation. ‘We’ll hold dinner for you.’
‘I’ll call you back and let you know.’ Cal slapped the phone back into its cradle and rubbed his hand across the nape of his neck where the muscles had tightened like a vice. He wanted to punch his fist through a wall. How did she always do this to him? Make him give in when they both knew it would do no good.
Perching on the edge of the sofa, he crossed his legs at the ankles, sank his chin onto his chest and buried his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t an emotion he was particularly proud of, but he let the mix of frustration and regret that conversations with his sister always caused wash over him. And then cursed softly.
He and Maddy were different people. They wanted different things out of life and she’d never been able to understand that. So why the hell should he feel guilty about avoiding seeing her and her family? Visiting his sister, seeing the way she and her husband Rye looked at each other, made him uncomfortable and the adoration of their daughter Mia—which made no sense to him at all—only made the discomfort more intense.
He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling, let out a heavy sigh.
Stop sulking, Westmore. You’ve only yourself to blame for this mess.
He’d been monumentally stupid. Stupid to forget Mia’s birthday party. And even more stupid to forget to phone Maddy with a decent excuse well in advance.
The thought of Ruby lying in his bed, her beautiful body all soft and scented and flushed with afterglow, had some of the guilt and tension easing out of his shoulders—but none of the frustration.
He didn’t like visiting Maddy at the best of times. But, damn it, he had other plans now.
If he’d paid more attention he could have spent the rest of the weekend availing himself of Ruby Delisantro’s considerable charms. But now he was forced to make a choice between doing what he wanted or doing what he felt obliged to do—which would mean a six-hour drive down to Cornwall and then spending the rest of his weekend off getting bombarded with relationship advice he didn’t want from his sister.
He pushed off the couch, pulled his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his palms down his face.
‘Damn it! ‘
He loved his sister, and, however suspicious he might be of the new, improved and blissfully happy Maddy—and however much he might hate getting pushed into doing something he didn’t want to do—he’d heard the plea in her voice.
He made his way down the corridor. Realising there was another problem.
If he left for Cornwall, what did he do about Ruby?
He caught her scent as he passed the open bathroom door and the memory of her full lips on his erect flesh brought a pulse of heat so intense, the problem came into sharp vivid focus. He still wanted her. And not just in bed. She’d captivated him today while they were on the Heath. She was bright, beautiful and remarkably forthright, her mental agility challenging him every step of the way. And best of all, she’d been quick to agree with him that she wasn’t looking for anything more than great sex and good company.
She still wasn’t his type. She was far too unpredictable for that. And as much fun as they’d had together he doubted she’d settle for being his playmate for long. Sooner or later she would have expectations. But that didn’t alter the fact that he didn’t want to let her walk. Not while she was still willing to play.
