Leah Ashton - Why Resist a Rebel?

The lighting was soft and the atmosphere relaxed, with the dress code more jeans than cocktail.

One particular pair of jeans caught his eye. Dark blue denim, moulded over elegantly crossed legs—right in the corner of the pub, the one farthest from him.

Yet his attention had still been drawn to her, to Ruby.

Only when he saw her did he realise he’d been looking for her—searching her out in the crowd.

He watched her as she talked to her friends, wine glass in hand. To all appearances she was focused completely on the conversation taking place around her. She was quick to smile, and quick to interject and trigger a laugh from others. But despite all that, there was the slightest hint of tension to her body.

She knew he was watching her.

Beside her, another woman leant over and whispered in her ear, throwing glances in his direction as she did.

Ruby shook her head emphatically—and Dev was no lip-reader, but he’d put money on the fact she’d just said: No, he’s not.

Accordingly, he straightened, pushing himself away from the bar.

He liked nothing more than to prove someone wrong.

‘He’s coming over!’

Every single cell in Ruby’s body—already tingling at what she’d told herself was Dev’s imagined attention—careened up to high alert.

‘It’s no big deal. We met before.’ She shrugged deliberately. ‘Maybe he doesn’t know anyone else yet.’

‘When did you meet him?’ Selena asked, wide-eyed. ‘And how am I not aware of this?’

Ruby’s words were carefully cool. ‘When I was walking back to the office. We barely said two words.’

That, at least, was completely true.

Her friend had lost interest, anyway, her eyes trained on Dev’s tall frame as he approached.

‘Mind if I join you?’

Dev’s voice was as gorgeously deep and perfect as in every one of his movies. Not for the first time, Ruby questioned her intelligence—how on earth had she not recognised him?

With a deep breath, she lifted her gaze to meet his. He stood on the other side of the table before them: Ruby, Selena and a couple of girls from the art department. They’d been having an after-dinner drink, all comfy on one big plush purple L-shaped couch—now the other three were alternating between carefully feigned disinterest and slack-jawed adoration. Unheard of for professionals in the film industry who dealt with stars every day.

But, she supposed, this was Devlin Cooper.

Everyone else appeared struck dumb and incapable of answering his question—but Dev was looking at her, anyway.

To say yes, she did mind, was tempting—but more trouble than it was worth. So, reluctantly, she shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

Dev stepped past the table and sat next to Ruby.

With great effort, she resisted the temptation to scoot away. Unlike the three other women at the table, she was not going to treat Dev any differently from anyone else on the cast and crew.

No adoring gaze. No swooning.

So, although he was close—and the couch definitely no longer felt big—she didn’t move. Didn’t betray one iota of the unexpected heat that had flooded her body.

‘You shouldn’t be embarrassed,’ he said, low enough that only she could hear.

‘Why would you think I am?’

Casually, she brought her glass to her lips.

Did he notice the slightest trembling of her fingers?

She risked a glance out of the corner of her eye.

He watched her with a familiar expression. Confident. Knowing.

Arrogant.

She sighed. ‘Fine. I was embarrassed. Let me think: running into one of the world’s most famous men, while covered in dirt and looking like crap—and then not even recognising said star...’ Ruby tilted her head, as if considering her words. ‘Yes, I think that pretty much sums it up. I reckon a good nine out of ten on my embarrassment scale.’

He didn’t even blink. If anything he looked amused.

A different type of tension stiffened her body. Yes, her stupid, apparently one-track body was all a-flutter with Mr Hot Movie Star so near. But now she could add affronted frustration into the mix.

She didn’t know what she wanted—an apology? Sympathy? A yeah, I can see how that might’ve sucked for you, even?

‘But you only gave it a nine,’ he said, placing his beer on one of the discarded coasters on the table.

‘A what?’ she asked, confused.

‘On your embarrassment scale,’ he said. ‘Only a nine...’ He looked contemplative for a moment, then leant closer, close enough that it was impossible for her to look anywhere but straight into his eyes. ‘So I was wondering—what would’ve made it a ten?’

Immediately, and most definitely without her volition, her gaze dropped from his piercing blue eyes to his lips.

Lips that immediately quirked into a grin the second she realised what she’d done. What she’d just revealed.

He leant even closer again. The touch of his breath on the sensitive skin beneath her ear made her shiver.

Logically she knew she should pull away, that she should laugh loudly, or say something—do something—to stop this way too intimate moment. A moment she knew was being watched—and if people were watching, then people would gossip.

And there were few things Ruby hated more than gossip: being the subject of or the proliferation of it.

For she had far too much experience in the former. Enough to last a lifetime.

‘You know,’ he said, his words somehow vibrating through her body—her stupidly frozen body, ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever been embarrassed when I’ve kissed them. In fact, I’m quite sure I’ve never received a complaint.’

Oh, she was so sure he hadn’t...

‘I was working,’ she said, each word stiff and awkward.

So he had been going to kiss her—and she realised it was no surprise. Some part of her had known, had known there was no other way to interpret those few minutes, even though her rational self had had so much difficulty believing it.

But knowing she hadn’t imagined it and wanting it to have happened were entirely different things.

‘I kiss people all the time at work,’ he replied, with a spark of humour in his eyes that was new, and unexpected.

Ruby found herself forcing back a grin, surprised at the shift in atmosphere. ‘It’s a bit different when you’re following a script.’

‘Ah,’ he said, his lips quirking up. ‘Not always.’

Now she laughed out loud, shaking her head. ‘I bet.’

Their laughter should’ve diluted the tension, but if anything the air between them thickened.

With great effort, Ruby turned away slightly, taking a long, long sip of her wine—not that she tasted a thing. Her brain whirred at a million miles an hour—or maybe it wasn’t whirring at all, considering all it seemed to be able to do was wonder how Dev’s lips would feel against hers...

No.

‘Well,’ she said, finally, her gaze swinging back to meet his. Firmly. ‘Script or otherwise, I don’t kiss anyone at work.’ She paused, then added in a tone that was perfectly matter-of-fact and perfectly polite, ‘It’s late. I need to go. It was nice to talk to you when I wasn’t covered in dirt. And I’m sorry about your T-shirt.’

Ruby stood up and placed her wine glass on the table with movements she hoped looked casual. She glanced at her friends, who all stared at her wide-eyed.

She’d need to set them all straight tomorrow. Dev Cooper was so not her type it was ridiculous.

She managed some goodbyes, hooked her handbag over her shoulder, and then headed for the door. The entire time she risked barely a glance at Dev, but thankfully he didn’t move.

Not that she expected him to follow her. She wasn’t an idiot. He could have any woman in this bar. Pretty much any woman in the world.