cushioning, right in the corner of the room.
She watched Dev as he walked across the bar with their drinks. He wore a dark suit, but no tie, and a crisp white shirt that was slightly unbuttoned. Somehow he made his outfit look casual and effortless, not formal at all. As if he’d happily wear the same outfit to do his grocery shopping, without a trace of self-consciousness.
The bar definitely was lit for mood, Ruby decided, but even so she was struck again by his unexpected gauntness. He didn’t look unwell—just lean. But then, he’d eaten every bite of food in every course tonight...maybe he had been sick just like that rumour said? And now he was still putting weight back on. Or something.
She considered asking him, then immediately dismissed the possibility. Whatever had happened outside the restaurant—that moment—told her whatever was going on with Dev, whatever his private pain was, he would not discuss it tonight.
Besides—why would he? She was some random woman he’d even more randomly invited out for dinner.
She would never ask him those questions. They had this one night only.
He sat down, right next to her on the bench seat, rather than across the other side of the table as she’d expected.
Really? No. She hadn’t honestly believed he’d do that. Of course he sat next to her, not quite touching—but touching was a very, very near thing.
He handed Ruby her wine glass, catching her gaze as he did so.
It was rather dark in this corner of the bar, she realised. Dark and...private.
His fingers brushed against hers and she jumped a little, making her wine splash about in its glass.
‘Whoops!’ she said, all nervous and breathy, and placed her glass firmly on the table, as if to somehow stabilise her thoughts.
The action was totally ineffective. She took a deep breath, but when she looked up—back into Dev’s eyes—her mind went blank.
About all she was capable of at this moment, it appeared, was looking at Dev. And it was at Dev she was looking—not Dev the movie star, but the Dev she’d just had dinner with. This Dev was an enigma—and this Dev, she liked.
He leapt from light to dark, revealing depth—maybe even pain?—that she never would have expected. And then he could slide so easily from teasing to darkly, insistently seductive.
As he was right now. Had he moved closer?
Maybe she had.
He knew she didn’t want this, but in this way, at least, he was no gentleman.
He said he wasn’t a nice person. Was this what he meant? This determined pursuit of a woman—of her—of what he wanted?
No, she decided. Not entirely. There’d been more, much more...
Ruby was losing herself in his eyes, his gorgeous, piercing blue eyes—but dragging her gaze away proved pointless, as she found herself staring at his lips.
It seemed the most natural, obvious thing in the world to lick her own lips in response.
Okay—now he had moved. When had he laid his arm across the back of the bench? She hadn’t noticed at the time, but now it seemed a genius move, as it was so easy for his fingers to skim along the delicate, shivery skin of her neck.
Then up, up to her nape, his strong fingers threading through her hair, cupping her skull. But he didn’t pull her towards him. Instead, he held her steady—but it really wasn’t necessary.
As if she were going to duck her head, or look away now?
Then he was closer again, close enough that even in the dim light she could just see the red that was still in his eyes. For a moment she wondered what was wrong, felt a flash of concern for him...
But then that moment was gone, because she’d let her own eyes flutter shut, and all she could concentrate on was the feel of him breathing against her lips. So close, so close...
And then, finally, he kissed her.
For a crazy, silly moment her mind filled with images of Devlin Cooper kissing other women in movies. Of famous, romantic clinches, and of sexy, twisted sheets and picture-perfect lighting.
But
She watched Dev as he walked across the bar with their drinks. He wore a dark suit, but no tie, and a crisp white shirt that was slightly unbuttoned. Somehow he made his outfit look casual and effortless, not formal at all. As if he’d happily wear the same outfit to do his grocery shopping, without a trace of self-consciousness.
The bar definitely was lit for mood, Ruby decided, but even so she was struck again by his unexpected gauntness. He didn’t look unwell—just lean. But then, he’d eaten every bite of food in every course tonight...maybe he had been sick just like that rumour said? And now he was still putting weight back on. Or something.
She considered asking him, then immediately dismissed the possibility. Whatever had happened outside the restaurant—that moment—told her whatever was going on with Dev, whatever his private pain was, he would not discuss it tonight.
Besides—why would he? She was some random woman he’d even more randomly invited out for dinner.
She would never ask him those questions. They had this one night only.
He sat down, right next to her on the bench seat, rather than across the other side of the table as she’d expected.
Really? No. She hadn’t honestly believed he’d do that. Of course he sat next to her, not quite touching—but touching was a very, very near thing.
He handed Ruby her wine glass, catching her gaze as he did so.
It was rather dark in this corner of the bar, she realised. Dark and...private.
His fingers brushed against hers and she jumped a little, making her wine splash about in its glass.
‘Whoops!’ she said, all nervous and breathy, and placed her glass firmly on the table, as if to somehow stabilise her thoughts.
The action was totally ineffective. She took a deep breath, but when she looked up—back into Dev’s eyes—her mind went blank.
About all she was capable of at this moment, it appeared, was looking at Dev. And it was at Dev she was looking—not Dev the movie star, but the Dev she’d just had dinner with. This Dev was an enigma—and this Dev, she liked.
He leapt from light to dark, revealing depth—maybe even pain?—that she never would have expected. And then he could slide so easily from teasing to darkly, insistently seductive.
As he was right now. Had he moved closer?
Maybe she had.
He knew she didn’t want this, but in this way, at least, he was no gentleman.
He said he wasn’t a nice person. Was this what he meant? This determined pursuit of a woman—of her—of what he wanted?
No, she decided. Not entirely. There’d been more, much more...
Ruby was losing herself in his eyes, his gorgeous, piercing blue eyes—but dragging her gaze away proved pointless, as she found herself staring at his lips.
It seemed the most natural, obvious thing in the world to lick her own lips in response.
Okay—now he had moved. When had he laid his arm across the back of the bench? She hadn’t noticed at the time, but now it seemed a genius move, as it was so easy for his fingers to skim along the delicate, shivery skin of her neck.
Then up, up to her nape, his strong fingers threading through her hair, cupping her skull. But he didn’t pull her towards him. Instead, he held her steady—but it really wasn’t necessary.
As if she were going to duck her head, or look away now?
Then he was closer again, close enough that even in the dim light she could just see the red that was still in his eyes. For a moment she wondered what was wrong, felt a flash of concern for him...
But then that moment was gone, because she’d let her own eyes flutter shut, and all she could concentrate on was the feel of him breathing against her lips. So close, so close...
And then, finally, he kissed her.
For a crazy, silly moment her mind filled with images of Devlin Cooper kissing other women in movies. Of famous, romantic clinches, and of sexy, twisted sheets and picture-perfect lighting.
But
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