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CHAPTER SIX
‘SERIOUSLY?’SUZYWHISPERED helplessly in Ruy’s ear when he picked the wedding gown with the feathers. ‘I’ll roast alive wearing that in Spain.’
He spoke to the stylist about alterations with all the panache of one who knew what he was talking about, but his belief that the internal structure of the dress could essentially be ripped out to make it lighter simply exposed his ignorance. Suzy suppressed a chuckle, marvelling at his obstinacy and amazed by the dress he had picked while he continued to discuss options, expense clearly no drawback as it was agreed that the dress would literally be remade for the occasion. She had been expecting him to choose something severe and elegant, not extravagant and frothy and trailing white feathers like the ghost of Christmas past.
‘Mr Rivera knows what he likes,’ the stylist remarked when Ruy had left them alone and Suzy was able to get down to describing her requirements, which consisted of a single smart gown and accessories that would hopefully pass muster at his brother’s wedding. But her taste in fashion was more quirky than conventional and it took time to identify a suitable dress for the wedding and the perfect shoes to wear with it.
The next morning she had to attend a court hearing in town for the non-molestation order Ellis had lodged on her behalf. Percy wasn’t in attendance and the magistrate granted it. Ruy had accompanied her and she felt enormously grateful for his support and relieved when it was over. Afterwards, Ruy asked her to pose for him in the studio, wearing her jeans and sweater. She would have preferred to put some make-up on first, but he insisted that he didn’t want her ‘all painted up’, as he called it. Sadly, that was only the start of their differences that afternoon. Ruy sketched while telling her how to pose in innumerable different positions. Every time she moved an inch or so out of a pose to ease a tight muscle, he growled in complaint and she shot comments back at him, telling him he needed to be more adaptable, more tolerant if he expected her to relax. Ruy liked his models quiet and biddable but as Suzy performed a handstand and then segued down into the splits with the easy flexibility of a dancer, he was too entertained by her joie de vivre to be exasperated.
Over dinner, she asked when they would be going to Spain.
‘The day after tomorrow,’ Ruy imparted.
‘But the clothes won’t have arrived by then.’
‘They will. I made it clear that a longer wait wasn’t an option,’ Ruy extended calmly.
Suzy studied him in dismay. ‘Ruy...someone could be up all night stitching that feather dress to meet a deadline like that!’
‘I would expect that they will be handsomely remunerated if they are. I pay over the odds for good service,’ he parried.
‘Employees don’t get those kinds of choices and I would assume that the boss usually keeps the profits.’
‘That’s the world we live in. Not my personal responsibility,’ Ruy returned, impervious to the hint that he should be ashamed of his willingness to use money to ensure that he received exactly what he wanted when he wanted it, no matter how inconvenient and unreasonable his requests were. ‘A jeweller will be calling here this evening for you to choose a ring for our supposed engagement, and at some stage you will have to go home to pick up whatever else you require for Spain.’
‘You organise everything right down to the last tiny detail.’ Suzy sighed. ‘It doesn’t leave much room for manoeuvre or going with the flow.’
‘I wasn’t raised to go with the flow,’ Ruy murmured drily. ‘I was brought up to respect rules and meet every demand that was made on me. It turned me into a high achiever. It’s true that I don’t turn handstands in the middle of a work session, but I value the discipline I learned.’
In receipt of that crack, Suzy felt the hot colour of embarrassment flood her cheeks. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘No, it was refreshing. One minute you were in place and the next you were upside down on the other side of the room,’ Ruy pointed out with amusement. ‘I won’t get bored with you in the studio.’
Dinner was followed by the arrival of the jeweller complete with a security guard. Trays of rings were set out on the coffee table and Ruy closed a hand over hers and tugged her down beside him. ‘Choose,’ he urged calmly.
All Suzy could see was a crazy bank of glittering jewels. ‘No, you choose.’
‘Suzy,’Ruy murmured with the faintest emphasis.
The heat of a long thigh was against hers, warming her entire body and tugging at that insistent ache that stirred in her pelvis whenever she got too close to Ruy. It made her want to melt into him, over him, any way she could, but she resisted the urge to leap away, reminding herself that this was supposed to be a joyful occasion for a couple and that in a sense she was on stage and expected to act her part. She reached for a solitaire ring in the very centre.
‘A most discerning choice,’ the jeweller told her, practically purring at that selection, which implied to her that it was a very, very costly ring. ‘The rarest of diamonds, a beautiful blue.’
‘Perfect,’ Ruy said, reaching for her trembling hand to thread it onto her finger, where it proved to be a little loose.
‘Are you sure you like it?’ Suzy prompted with anxious eyes.
‘It’s yours.’
Her finger was measured. The ring, she was assured, would be with them the next day. The jeweller and his guard departed.
‘The ring will be yours to keep,’ Ruy informed her.
Suzy froze in astonishment in receipt of that assurance, angry resentment flaring inside her. ‘No, you are doing it again—stop trying to buy me, bribe me, whatever you want to call it! I don’t want that! I don’t want you believing that you’re paying me for any of this, but you don’t listen, do you? Look, I have to collect my cases at home. I’ll call Dad to pick me up and I’ll go now, spend the night there,’ she completed doggedly.
Ruy stilled in front of her, so tall, so dark, so devastatingly handsome, her senses hummed that close to him. ‘Stay...’
And it disturbed her that she knew he didn’t want her to leave and that on some very basic level she was equally reluctant to move any great distance from him. Feeling that way was foolish and would hurt her, she told herself firmly. Was she planning to turn into some sort of clingy woman? That wasn’t her, would never be her. She was sailing too close to the wind, risking her emotions for a guy who had no serious intentions whatsoever towards her. She was forgettable, disposable as far as Ruy was concerned. He had not once referred to their fleeting encounter beyond quickly assuring her that he did not expect her to continue that intimacy. How often did a guy turn his back on the chance of sex?
