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Ruby’s head lifted. She took her glasses off and put her book down. Slipping the band out of her hair, she shook out the mass of curls as she stepped off the window seat. As if by magic, any traces of the studious little girl disappeared and she evolved into the voluptuous take-no-prisoners virago he had come to know.
Cal heaved out a sigh as he watched her stroll towards him, the muscles in his shoulders beginning to loosen as he took in the seductive sway of her hips and the way the nightgown slid over her curves. A new, more sublime tension tightened his groin.
Thank God he’d brought her along. Sinking into Ruby’s lush, responsive body was the perfect way to forget the ordeal he had in store for tomorrow.
‘Come here.’ He patted the mattress, then folded his arms behind his head and fixed his gaze on the fascinating glimpse of cleavage displayed by her wispy nightgown. ‘And prepare to be ravished for the rest of the night.’
She gave a throaty laugh. ‘Forget it,’ she purred. ‘No ravishing allowed tonight.’
He grasped her wrist, tugged her on top of him. ‘Stop playing hard to get.’
She laughed again, but drew back. ‘I’m serious. We’re not making love when there’s a three-year-old sleeping down the hall.’
His shoulders tensed right back up again. ‘Since when did you become a prude?’
She smiled that superior smile that women only ever used when a guy was desperate. ‘Ever since you turned me into a screamer.’
There was that.
He let her go. Frustration making the muscles in his neck bunch.
Terrific.
This trip kept getting better and better. Swinging his legs to the floor, he ploughed his fingers through his hair. ‘We should never have come,’ he growled, to no one in particular. ‘I knew it would be a disaster.’
‘What exactly is the problem with your sister?’
Cal looked over his shoulder. ‘Huh?’
‘Why did you react that way when she told you about the baby?’
He groaned. ‘I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Can we talk about this another time?’ Like never.
‘But you were so—’
‘Look, Ruby,’ he interrupted sharply. ‘You’re here because we amuse each other in bed, not to make observations about my family relations.’
She flinched as if she’d been struck. ‘Gee, thanks, Cal.’ She got off the bed, glared down at him. ‘Perhaps I should just tattoo “Cal’s Tart” to my forehead, so I don’t get confused.’
He stood up and grabbed hold of her waist. ‘Don’t get upset,’ he said, feeling like a heel. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes, right alongside the temper. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t think of you as my tart. That’s not what I meant.’
She pulled free. ‘So what did you mean?’ she snapped, not sounding all that forgiving. Who could blame her? He’d made a mess of things. This was getting to be a habit.
‘Nothing,’ he said wearily. He sank back onto the bed, raked his fingers through his hair, the frustration starting to choke him. He was usually so eloquent with words. He made a living from advocacy, from being erudite and compelling when he was addressing a jury, or outlining a mitigation plea to a judge. Why couldn’t he say a single thing right tonight?
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that,’ she said, her hands now perched on her hips. The stance was combative, but the fire in her eyes had dimmed.
He blew out a breath. He’d expected tears or a tantrum. He had to be grateful he’d got neither. ‘I guess I’m feeling kind of tense tonight,’ he said grudgingly. ‘And I took it out on you.’
She didn’t look mad any more, she looked intrigued. Somehow he wasn’t sure that was necessarily a good thing. ‘Why does their happiness make you so uncomfortable?’
‘What?’ he croaked. Where had that come from?
‘You said yourself you were tense. And the way you reacted when Maddy told you about the…’ She paused, her eyes lighting with knowledge. ‘You feel excluded. Is that it?’
‘Excluded?’ Why the hell would he feel excluded? Rye and Maddy had the exact opposite of what he wanted out of life. ‘From what exactly?’ he said, the tension starting to band around his temples now like a vice.
‘Because they love each other. You feel left out.’
