Nikki Logan - Summer Temptation - Waking Up In The Wrong Bed / Once a Rebel... / The Devil and the Deep

‘That fantasy enough for you?’ he asked, his voice rough as he stepped back. The water splashed as he sat down again on the opposite side of the tub.

Ellie couldn’t believe he’d kissed her like that and then let her go. She couldn’t believe the intensity in his expression—in his action—had suddenly vanished. ‘You’re the most awful tease.’

‘Actually I think you’re the one who can claim that crown,’ he argued in that charming rogue way.

‘I’m not teasing at all. You’re the one who keeps crossing the boundaries.’ She swept her sodden hair from her face.

‘You keep tempting me to.’ He shrugged.

‘So it’s all my fault?’

‘Absolutely.’

Unable to help it, despite knowing it was what he wanted, she laughed.

‘You think it’s funny?’

She nodded. ‘You’re so good for a girl’s ego.’

‘Well, that is my raison d’être.’ He inclined his head.

Ellie nodded. Yes, he’d gone back to form—a charming, carefree man made for good humour and good times. Yet she sensed that impenetrable wall only a millimetre beneath his surface.

Damn it, the whole complicated package fascinated her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘PUT these on while we get your things cleaned and dried.’

‘I didn’t think I’d need more than one pair of jeans. I wasn’t expecting a mudbath,’ Ellie said with defiance born of embarrassment as she took the jeans and tee Ruben held out to her and then dived to her bedroom to get decent.

She figured that at least he was never going to get off on the ‘she’s wearing my clothes’ thing—they totally swamped her. But suddenly she was feeling decidedly ‘his’ now wearing his jeans and tee. It was pathetically primeval but utterly seductive.

When she went out to the kitchen he was waiting with two giant mugs of coffee—perfect, as she’d been having some dangerous thoughts about heading to a nearby bed.

‘What do you do when you’re here alone and the weather’s closed in like this?’ she asked, desperate to make innocuous conversation.

‘I read.’

‘Let me guess, thrillers? Gory crime stories?’

‘No.’ He lifted his mug and led her down the hallway, pushing open the door to the large, plush study. He walked to a bookshelf around a corner, further away from the others. ‘Non-fiction.’

‘Oh, wow.’ Ellie gazed at the partially hidden display. Architecture books. Big, expensive, beautiful architecture and design books. Covering all kinds of buildings—not just hotels but homes and castles, inner-city apartments, outback homesteads and skyscrapers. The works.

‘You’ve got a ton.’ She moved in front of the shelf and pulled a couple out, then folded to sit cross-legged and opened the first book. It was the perfect safe time-killer.

He followed suit, leaning opposite her, soon burrowed in cushions and flicking through books. They talked, compared favourites, argued about the ugly. Almost two hours passed and Ellie couldn’t help thinking that, despite his outrageous flirt moments, his life appeared to be all work.

‘So where do you hang out most?’ she asked, chuckling when she saw his startled expression. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to start stalking you.’

‘At the hotels.’

‘But where do you exercise? You play rugby or something?’ Surely he was in a team. He totally had the fitness for it.

‘I use the gyms in the hotels.’

Oh, of course he did. ‘You don’t actually have a home of your own?’

‘There’s no point.’ He kept flicking pages and didn’t look up to answer her. ‘I visit the hotels on a constant rotation. I use a room in them. That way I can keep an eye on the quality of the service.’

Ellie glanced around the pristine interior of the place. ‘Don’t you have any personal stuff?’ Aside from architecture books?

‘Like what?’ he asked absently, still looking at the book spread on his lap.

‘Family photos?’ Anything?

‘I have some on my phone.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I’m minimalist. I have an office at the chateau but most of the stuff I need is on my laptop.’

‘And what do you do for fun?’

‘Work is fun.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘I love what I do. Don’t you love what you do?’

‘Sure I do. I really do, actually.’

Ruben, now back in position leaning against cushions, had a sly look in his eye. ‘You’re meaning social fun, aren’t you?’ he asked.

She shrugged as if she weren’t that interested. ‘I’m guessing you enjoy your guests’ company.’

‘Some more than others,’ he answered glibly. ‘But not in the way you’re thinking. You were an exception and you know it.’

Yes, but nothing could come of the flame between them—there was no future in terms of a relationship. She might bring tours here but she could avoid him completely if she wanted to.

Thing was, she didn’t want to.

But she knew that if she agreed to a fling, when it was over there’d be no contact at all between them. It was how she worked and she was pretty sure it was how he’d work too.

The thought of not ever seeing him again squeezed her vulnerable heart hard. She wanted to see him. She wanted to know how his current deal worked out. She liked hanging out, she liked the aura of freedom he had, she liked how he made her laugh. Yeah, she wanted more of his company and she shouldn’t. But if she worked out some boundaries—where she wouldn’t give too much and thus not expect too much either—then maybe she could live with it.

‘I think we should try to be friends,’ she blurted decisively. ‘We should put this on a friend level.’

Ruben choked on nothing but fresh air.

‘I’m serious.’ She smiled as she watched him gasp. ‘We have a lot in common. We laugh together. We’re similar in that work is important to us. We get on well.’

‘And your point?’

She figured she could have him in her life as a friend, or not have him in her life at all. And though she knew she probably should, given how attractive she found him, she wasn’t ready to cast him out of her life completely. She was still too curious. ‘We can be civilised, can’t we?’

‘There’s nothing civilised about the things I want to do with you.’

She closed her eyes for a second and waited for the blood to recede from her cheeks. ‘But if we have a fling what do you think will happen in the end?’

He didn’t answer.

‘What usually happens?’ she prompted.

He began to smile, that wry, rueful smile.

‘Are you in contact with any of them?’ she asked softly.

His shoulders lifted. ‘If our paths cross we smile and wave and it’s all lovely and amicable.’

‘Because they have too much pride to show you how hurt they are inside,’ Ellie said dryly.

His brows lifted. ‘Honey, I’m not with any one woman long enough for her to get hurt.’

Ellie’s laugh came out as a snort but his words made her all the more resolved—she didn’t want too few hot nights, she’d rather have long-term laughs.

‘Well, okay, what about you?’ he said firmly. ‘Are you in contact with your exes?’

As if. ‘I haven’t had as many as you,’ she said pointedly. ‘But usually what happens is I have a relationship and, not too long later, the guy moves on. I used to try everything to please him, so he’d stick around longer, but I’m not going to bend myself into any more boxes in order to try to keep anyone.’ She was never doing that again. ‘I don’t see any of them any more.’

‘So you’re not going to bend into any boxes for me?’

She shook her head with a laugh.

‘I’m feeling a little insulted,’ he said mildly.

‘Don’t be. Actually you should feel pleased. I want to stay in touch with you.’ She really did.