The Acostas Box Set: The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta / The Argentinian's Solace / A Taste of the Untamed / The Man From her Wayward Past / Taming the Last Acosta / Christmas Nights with the Polo Pla

‘Bouncer’s done a real number on your outfit,’ he observed, turning round.

‘Yes, he has,’ Holly admitted ruefully. It wasn’t so much an outfit as a motley collection of sale items she’d kept at the back of the wardrobe too long to take back to the store.

‘How about I pay for dry-cleaning?’

‘Oh, no. That’s okay,’ she insisted. ‘The mud will wash off—’

‘If you’re sure? I’m happy to pay.’

A man offering to pay for anything was a first too, Holly thought. ‘Really, I’m sure,’ she said with a small smile, and then, embarrassed by so much concern and attention from a stranger, she turned away. ‘Hey, Bouncer.’ Predictably falling for the liquid brown sappy look, she started tickling the dog’s ears, which Bouncer took as a cue to roll onto his back, waving his giant-sized paws in the air.

‘You have a way with animals,’ the man observed.

‘When they’re not trying to lick me to death,’ Holly agreed wryly.

‘Shall we?’ he said, starting for the door.

In nothing more exciting than a pair of jeans, scuffed boots and a heavy jacket, he looked exactly like the type of man who could turn a girl’s world upside down. Rebuilding herself after a devastating love affair meant stepping out and stepping up. It did not mean running away. And it was only a coffee.

The guy was so big he made Holly feel dainty as she walked past him, which was another first. She was built on a heroic scale, as her father always reminded her proudly before he gave her that second and rather concerned look—the one she was supposed to miss. But it wasn’t every day a dog could coat her in mud and make her smile, or a man could hold her gaze for longer than two seconds. And at least he was polite, she reasoned as he held the door.

As the warm, coffee-scented air swept out to greet them Holly relaxed her guard enough to brush past him on the way in. The jolt to her senses woke her up and warned her to take more care in future. But it wasn’t as if she was coming on to him, Holly reasoned. He was deeply tanned and film-star striking, while she was pale and not that interesting. But there was some common ground. She felt out of place in London and he looked about as much at home on a grey day in London as a polar bear on a beach—

And about as dangerous.

Once they were inside the café he reached behind the counter and grabbed a towel, which he tossed to her.

‘Well caught,’ he said as she gasped and snatched hold of the towel. ‘May I suggest you wipe the worst of the mud off your clothes?’

‘Won’t they mind?’ Holly said worriedly, throwing a guilty glance at the counter staff.

‘They’ll mind more if you don’t wipe it off before you sit down,’ the man observed, curving his attractive smile again.

Men as good-looking as he was could do as they liked, Holly concluded as she watched him return the towel with a few words of thanks to the staff. There wasn’t one complaint. And why should there be? she thought as he shrugged off his jacket and everyone turned to look. Who wouldn’t want a better view of that body? Holly mused as her gaze roved reluctantly past the well-packed jeans to the crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled back to display a pair of massive forearms. Her day had definitely improved. Until the girls behind the counter started flirting with him and she felt a stab of something unexpected.

And a warning that drew a parallel between this man and her ex. The ex had been good-looking too, and had packed a certain degree of charisma—not pure, one hundred per cent gold star charisma like this man, but enough—until she had scratched the surface and found the base metal underneath—

‘I’ll get the coffee,’ he said, distracting her, ‘while you grab a table.’

She registered a shivery reflex when the man touched her shoulder and was powerless to hide the quiver of awareness that streaked through her. He must have felt it too. He had, Holly concluded, noticing how the steady gaze was now laced with humour. ‘You might want to wipe some of the dirt off your backside before you sit down?’ he murmured discreetly.

The fact that he’d noticed her backside was concerning. Craning her neck, Holly groaned.

‘The ladies’ room is just over there,’ one of the waitresses supplied helpfully.

‘Why don’t you leave your suitcase with me?’

She looked at the man and evaluated her choices. She could leave her belongings with someone she didn’t know, or struggle back through the crowded café with a large case in tow.

‘You can trust me,’ he said, reading her.

And you know what they say about people who tell you you can trust them, Holly thought.

‘In my case it happens to be true,’ he said evenly as if reading her mind were second nature to him.

She left the case.

Trying to ignore the amused glances of the up-market clientele, Holly retraced her steps through the café. As her face heated up under the critical scrutiny she realised that for the short time she’d been with him the man had made her feel good about herself. She didn’t want to sit down in their fancy-pants café anyway. They probably charged twice as much here for a latte as they did at the popular chain down the road—

But rebuilding Holly meant never running away. And was she seriously going to make some pathetic excuse and leave an attractive man in the lurch?

Having cleaned herself up, she returned to find him reading the financial pages with her suitcase stowed safely at his feet. ‘I had to guess what you’d like,’ he said, setting the newspaper down.

‘Skinny latte and a toasted cheese and tomato ciabatta? You’re spoiling me—’

‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘I was ordering lunch, and I thought you might like some too.’

‘Thank you.’ An honest man was a refreshing change too. ‘It looks delicious …?’

‘Ruiz,’ he supplied, reaching over the table to shake her hand.

‘Holly.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Holly.’

A lightning bolt shot up her arm when they shook hands. And she shouldn’t be staring at him like this. ‘Ruiz?’ she said. ‘I love your name. It’s so unusual.’

‘My mother devoured romantic novels while she was pregnant. Mediterranean heroes?’

‘I was born on Christmas day.’

They laughed.

And now it occurred to her that she couldn’t remember the last time she had relaxed with a man. Laughing at the ex’s jokes was expected, even demanded, but laughing because she was happy only brought accusations that she was braying like a donkey. So she didn’t laugh.

‘Is the coffee okay for you?’ Ruiz said.

She looked at him. ‘Delicious. Thank you.’

He held her gaze with eyes that were warm and interested. She wanted to know more about him. ‘My guess is you’re between seasons and that’s why you’re in London—’

‘Between seasons?’ Ruiz queried, frowning as he sat back. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Ski and surf? The tan, the build …’ The confident swagger that came as standard equipment on a body when a man was in peak condition, she kept to herself.

‘Am I so unusual?’

‘Yes, you are.’ Holly curbed her smile as Ruiz glanced around. He stood out like a very tanned and elegant thumb amongst a room full of stressed-out sore thumbs. ‘But you’ve got a dog with you,’ she said, frowning as she progressed her thoughts, ‘so you must live close by.’