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

‘Me?’ Holly exclaimed. ‘You can’t go away and leave Bouncer with me.’

Recognising his name, Bouncer, no doubt remembering the fuss Holly had given him the first time they met, padded over to the bathroom door and sat at her feet. What was she supposed to do? Ignore him? Bending down, she gave the dog a proper welcome, which Bouncer took as his cue to clean her all over again.

‘Look how pleased he is to see you,’ Ruiz said in a coaxing tone that set more alarm bells than ever ringing. ‘How can you possibly turn him away?’

Holly sighed, but the look she reserved for Ruiz was not at all kind-hearted. He got the special hard look she was working on to deter those who thought they could put one over on new Holly. Ruiz responded to this with the lift of one ebony brow and a look that reminded Holly that, unlike his dog, Ruiz was dangerous. The Acosta brothers were notorious playboys with hair-raising reputations, and like Lucia, they inhabited a very different world from Holly.

So? Keep your nerve and fight fire with fire.

‘Bouncer,’ Holly murmured fondly, choosing to ignore the dog’s master for now. ‘Are you looking for a little mayhem?’ Gazing up, she threw the gauntlet straight back in Ruiz’s face. ‘You are? Good boy. There’s a lot of scope for you here.’ Game on.

The look Ruiz gave her now made Holly’s heart beat a rapid tattoo. She should have remembered that Ruiz Acosta was an international sportsman who liked nothing better than a challenge, and in spite of her tough talk Holly’s self-confidence was as fragile as a sugar strand. Making her handsome parents proud of their unaccountably plain daughter by winning a full scholarship to a prestigious school had been one of the high spots of Holly’s life, until she’d discovered how the other, more privileged girls had felt about it. It was only when Lucia, easily the most envied girl in the school, had palled up with her that Holly’s confidence had slowly returned. Well, that sugar strand had just snapped and now she was steeped in self-doubt again.

‘I’m going to have a beer and then I’m going to the gym,’ Ruiz said. ‘Make sure you’ve cleared up your mess by the time I get back.’

Yes, master. Holly’s face burned red, but for once she remained sensibly silent.

Please don’t hurry back, Holly thought, catching her breath against the bathroom door. She needed time to think. She could hear Ruiz moving about in the kitchen, but for a moment she did nothing, thought nothing, barely breathed, until, pulling herself round, she came to exactly the same conclusion: this wasn’t going to work. Living with a playboy when she was still recovering from the most disastrous love affair of all time? How could she share the same space as a man as brazenly masculine and as unswervingly domineering as Ruiz Acosta? If Ruiz was moving in, she was moving out—

And that was exactly what she would have done had not sensible Holly chosen that moment to intervene and remind flustered Holly that she would still have to sort out alternative accommodation first, and that in the meantime she had no alternative other than to get along with Ruiz. Let’s face it, she thought our paths don’t even need to cross in a penthouse this size.

‘Can we just get one thing straight?’ she said to Ruiz, entering the kitchen after having thrown on her fat jeans, as opposed to her I’ve-lost-weight jeans, together with her oldest, most comfortable shirt. She had left her hair to dry naturally, and bother the make-up—she wasn’t interested in men. She merely wanted to catch Ruiz before he left for the gym and set a few things straight.

He paused with the bottle of beer hovering close to his mouth.

Sexy mouth …

Concentrate, Holly told herself firmly. They had to get things out in the open if living together stood any chance of working.

‘Yes?’ Ruiz prompted.

Did he have to have such gorgeous eyes? Did he have to angle that stubble-shaded chin to stare at her? Did his mouth have to curve in that infectious and very dangerous smile? ‘When you say you’re going away,’ she said, feeling her throat dry as she forced her gaze somewhere to the west of Ruiz’s left ear, ‘don’t you mean going away as in flying to Argentina to play polo with your brothers?’

‘That will be my next trip,’ Ruiz confirmed, his dark eyes watchful.

‘So this isn’t just the occasional weekend we’re talking about—this is full-on adoption of a huge, lollopy dog.’

‘Temporary guardianship,’ Ruiz corrected her, ‘of my dog.’

He made it sound like a royal command—a privilege. And if there hadn’t been such a lovely dog involved …

Ruiz showed no shame, Holly concluded. ‘You’re going to leave Bouncer at the penthouse I’ve been cautiously tiptoeing around. May I remind you that Bouncer has a huge fluffy tail and four big feet?’

‘Your feet are lovely,’ Ruiz observed, completely taking the wind out of her sails.

He wasn’t supposed to say things like that and sound as if he meant it. Now all she could think about was the fact that she hadn’t put shoes on because she’d been in too much of a hurry to speak to Ruiz before he went out.

Concentrate, Holly told herself fiercely as Ruiz curved a questioning smile. There was no point giving him any more satisfaction than she already had. ‘What you’re suggesting,’ she hissed in a low, urgent voice as if Bouncer could understand them, ‘is a licence for carnage.’ Couldn’t she create enough of that on her own? Holly reasoned. She was just recoiling from the mental image of the type of carnage Bouncer could create when The Idea dropped in.

No one said it was going to arrive at the most convenient time, Holly reasoned as Ruiz began to frown. ‘What now?’ she prompted.

‘I was just thinking that it’s not like you to be silent for so long. You are feeling okay, aren’t you?’ Holly’s warning look only succeeded in making Ruiz’s eyes glow a little brighter. ‘Anyway,’ he added offhandedly, ‘I’m going out.’

But she wanted to float her idea. ‘No, wait.’

‘Missing me already?’ Ruiz suggested with maximum irony.

‘Not one bit,’ she snapped. ‘In fact, please don’t feel you must hurry back.’

This provoked a crooked smile that lodged attractively in Ruiz’s stubble-darkened cheek. ‘I love it when a plan comes together, don’t you?’ he said. And when Holly gritted her teeth in order not to say something she would regret, he added, ‘I understand you’d probably like a little time to prepare yourself properly for my return.’

‘Prepare myself properly?’ Holly exploded. ‘Who do you think you are? The Sheikh of Araby? I was merely pondering the possibility of doing some work without any further interruption,’ she assured him primly.

‘Oh, come on, Holly,’ Ruiz murmured. ‘You and I both know that too much work and no play will make you a very dull girl indeed. See you after the gym?’ he said, his eyes dark and dangerous.

‘I can’t wait,’ Holly called after him sarcastically. Living with a playboy wouldn’t be easy, but at least Ruiz had given her The Idea.

Bravo! Holly-the-journalist!

Except … there was one small problem. She already knew Ruiz didn’t like Holly poking her nose into his business.

But what was he going to do—refuse her offer to dog-sit in London while he was playing polo in Argentina? She didn’t think so. She’d seen the glint in Ruiz’s eyes. He’d gone in hard, thinking she would quickly fall into line. He had expected her to offer to help him in any way she could. Well, she might—on one condition that Ruiz helped her too. He must give her some titbits to write about. If he did, living with a playboy might not be so bad after all. In fact, it might just save her bacon. The column she had in mind would be an observational piece—meaning she could safely witness the life of a playboy while remaining at a prudent distance. This would be like confronting her demons from behind a screen. To save her career she would lift the lid on living with a playboy for her readers. Why shouldn’t everyone else laugh at her trials and tribulations? She did.

* * *

Slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, he left his luggage in the hall and stormed out of the penthouse. The only solution, Ruiz had concluded, was to pound his way out of frustration. Having been knocked for six—or was that sex?—by the sight of Holly with her glorious redgold hair streaming around her shoulders like a gleaming cape, Holly half naked with her creamy flesh just visible above the robe, he was painfully threatening to burst out of his jeans. In that respect, she had exceeded his expectations. Truthfully? He had never felt like this before. If Holly had been staying in Lucia’s garden apartment he could have just about coped, but having her stay with him at the penthouse only yards from his bed?

Gritting his teeth, Ruiz lifted his own body weight above his head, but nothing helped to blank out the voluptuous woman waiting for him back at the penthouse. And hard as he tried he could find no solution to the problem. He wouldn’t touch a friend of Lucia’s. He couldn’t eject a friend of Lucia’s from the penthouse, either. So must he put his own life on hold? He could hardly entertain while Holly was in residence. Lowering the bar slowly back into its cups, he made a silent pledge not to go near her. He could only hope for Holly’s sake that she found somewhere else to live as soon as she could.

He had left Bouncer with the girls on Reception where his faithful hound was sure to get a spoiling. The dog bounded up to him, seeming as excited as he was at the prospect of returning home.

Not excited, Ruiz told himself firmly. Certainly not excited to get back to the penthouse and find Holly waiting for him. It had been a long, hard day, and when he opened the door on what was supposed to be a luxurious hideaway in the best part of London, there would be girl stuff everywhere. No doubt the kitchen would be a mess, and, having seen the state of the hall, he had no doubt Holly would have trialled every bathroom by the time he got back, strewing damp towels all over the place. All he longed for was a good night’s sleep, but with a big dog to care for checking into a hotel was out of the question. The penthouse, with its stunning views of London and seductive luxury, should have been perfect, and it might have been, had he not had an unexpected—and frustratingly unsettling—lodger to entertain.

Okay, so he’d set some ground rules.

‘Come on, Bouncer,’ Ruiz prompted, snapping the leash onto the dog’s collar. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_ce39fad8-3cc2-5919-b753-4a025e88c5d3)

Research. And that’s all it would be. I wouldn’t be breaking rule two—no men. I would simply be observing this man from a purely clinical point of view. My ‘Living with a Playboy’ idea would be like one of those fly-on-the-wall documentaries. I wouldn’t be hands-on—I should be so lucky. More, all hands to the pump—gulp—as I try to do my bit to save the agony-aunt column. (Though I can’t deny the thought of living so close to this particular playboy has done wonders for my metabolic rate. I’ve eaten a whole tub of double chocolate chip in anticipation of his return and I can still get into my jeans.)

(Imagine how slim I’d be if we lived together permanently.)

(Not that I’d ever consider living with anyone after my experience with the ex.)

Love life? Vicarious. Active. Very active indeed. Lustful thoughts? Are there any other kind?

And the playboy? This might all be over by tomorrow. He didn’t exactly seem thrilled to see me, and I have yet to discover how he feels when he returns from the gym to find I’m still here.