Why Resist a Rebel? by Leah Ashton

they are scattered all over the place.’
    He assumed he still looked less than convinced, as she rolled her eyes as if completely exasperated with him.
    ‘No,’ he said, before she tried again. ‘I do get it.’
    Didn’t he, after all, live his life in kind of the same way? Yes, he owned his home, but that was a financial decision, not one based on long-term planning—it wasn’t a life goal or anything. He hadn’t extrapolated that purchase into plans for the future: a wife, kids. Anything like that. In fact, he’d only ever had one goal: to act.
    And now he wasn’t even sure he had that.
    ‘Do you want to get a drink somewhere?’ he asked.

    Ruby let the invitation bounce about in her brain for a moment.
    ‘I should go,’ she said. ‘Like I said before. It’s late, I—’
    ‘But you didn’t go.’
    I know. She wasn’t sure why. It had been the right thing to do—the right time to go. When he’d called her beautiful, she’d been momentarily lost. Lost in the moment and the pull of his warmth, and the appreciation she’d seen in his gaze. So, so tempting...
    But then she’d remembered where she was— who he was—and why this was all a very, very bad idea.
    ‘I should go,’ she repeated. She’d meant to be more firm this time, but she wasn’t—not at all.
    ‘Probably,’ he agreed. ‘Based on what you’ve told me before—you should.’
    He’d moved a little closer. God. He was good. He knew what he did to her when he was close. She could see it in everything he did—that arrogance, that confidence.
    But unexpectedly, right now, it wasn’t pushing her away.
    Maybe because tonight she’d seen that confidence contrasted with moments of...not quite vulnerability, but exposure. He’d been raw, as if she was seeing Dev Cooper the man, not the actor.
    And she’d found herself interested in that man. Oh, she’d always been attracted to Dev, by his looks, his charisma, by the persona his career had created. But that type of attraction was—with difficulty—possible to push aside. To be logical about. To walk away from, with the strict rules she lived by providing the impetus.
    But this Dev. This Dev she couldn’t so easily define. This Dev she wanted to know.
    This Dev she wanted to understand.
    No, thank you . But thank you for dinner...
    It was suddenly impossible to say anything. She couldn’t agree, but there was no other option.
    So she was a coward and did nothing at all. But her expression must have portrayed her acquiescence, as he smiled—then grabbed her hand and tugged her after him.
    They left Circular Quay, then headed a short way up Macquarie Street.
    ‘Where are we going?’ Ruby asked, belatedly.
    He came to a stop. ‘We’re here,’ he said. ‘My hotel.’
    They stood beneath a curved red awning—on red carpet, no less. A suited doorman stood only metres away, but when she glanced at him, he was carefully paying them no attention.
    ‘This isn’t cool, Dev, you said—’
    ‘There’s a bar on the ground floor, and the staff will guarantee we won’t be disturbed—and certainly that no photos will be taken.’ His lips quirked upwards—wickedly. ‘I’m not inviting you to share a bottle of champagne as we roll about on my bed, Ruby.’
    She knew she’d gone as red as the carpet. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Of course not.’
    ‘Shall we?’ he said, gesturing at the brass-handled doors.
    She nodded, and soon they’d made their way through the marble-floored foyer with its sumptuous oriental carpets to the hotel bar—a classic, traditional space. Full of heavy, antique wooden furniture, stunning silk wallpaper and chandeliers dangling with crystals, it was softly lit. A handful of people perched on bar stools, and a couple shared a drink at one table. Along one wall stretched a bench seat, upholstered in delicately patterned black and cream fabric. After Dev asked what she’d like to drink, she made a beeline in that direction, sinking gratefully into the soft