The Acostas Box Set. Susan Stephens

you?’

      ‘Were you thinking of dancing with someone else?’ he queried with a sultry growl.

      ‘In front of everyone?’

      ‘That is the usual way.’

      ‘Won’t people talk? So many people seem to know who you are.’

      ‘And if they do?’

      ‘I don’t want you to be unmasked,’ Holly whispered dramatically, thinking she had found the perfect excuse not to dance with the playboy in public.

      ‘Do they give you a byline on the Playboy column these days?’ Ruiz asked innocently.

      ‘No, of course they don’t put my name on the column. I’m part of a team—’

      Stop! Stop Talking NOW, Holly’s inner voice advised, before you dig the hole any deeper. Of course no one knew who she was. She was just another of Ruiz’s many female friends as far as the people at the club were concerned. ‘Shall we chat and eat first?’ she suggested, red-faced.

      For a moment she thought Ruiz would argue and insist on dancing, but he just said, ‘Whatever you like,’ and picked up the menu.

      And now she was disappointed. A hemp sack and a bowl of lentils was pretty much what she deserved, Holly concluded. Burying her head in the menu, she mentally revisited the conversation where Ruiz had made it clear that this evening was all about entertaining his sister’s friend.

      ‘Are you going to relax any time soon, Holly?’

      She looked up. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a bit overwhelmed by all this.’

      ‘All this?’

      ‘I feel a bit out of place here, to be honest.’ Whereas Ruiz was so confident and so good-looking he was at ease anywhere.

      ‘Out of place? Why should you say that? I can’t think of anyone who deserves a night off more than you do, Holly. Since the moment I met you, you’ve been working all hours.’

      ‘But all these people are so—’ She snatched a breath as Ruiz’s hand touched her arm.

      ‘Choose something to eat,’ he prompted.

      Studying the menu, and actually reading it this time, Holly gulped when she saw the prices. When the waiter arrived to take their order she told him that a starter-sized salad would be enough for her. Shaking his head, Ruiz countermanded that idea and ordered for her. ‘You don’t have to eat what I’ve ordered for you,’ he explained, ‘but if you’re going to continue working at the pace you do, one lettuce leaf and a spoonful of dressing isn’t enough to keep you going.’

      Ruiz’s amused glance lasted a little longer this time and as she held it something told Holly that if she could relax they might be friends. After all, Ruiz was her best friend’s brother, and she loved Lucia …

      The meal Ruiz had ordered for Holly was delicious. He had chosen perfectly. The most delicious halibut she had ever tasted came with side orders of buttered spinach, roasted tomatoes, and creamy mashed potatoes. Ruiz devoured an epic steak, and after the meal they drank strong, aromatic coffee as they watched professional dancers giving an eye-popping demonstration of how the samba should be danced. Surely, Ruiz couldn’t expect her to do that? Holly thought, imagining how she might interpret the hip grinding and pelvic thrusting, which the professional dancers managed to turn into something so erotic, and yet so stylish. It might look rather different if she took to the floor. And then there were the outfits. The woman’s costume was glittery and filmy, barely a whisper of aquamarine chiffon decorated with diamanté, while the man’s black trousers might have been sprayed on—

      ‘And now we dance,’ Ruiz announced when the applause had died down.

      ‘I don’t think so,’ Holly protested, sitting deeper in her chair.

      Ruiz gave her no option. Making her gasp as he lifted her out of the seat, he lowered her onto a dance floor crowded with couples only too eager to show what they could do. ‘You can’t force me,’ Holly protested, turning to go.

      ‘And you can’t resist the music.’ He brought her back again.

      Short of drawing attention to herself, she had no option but to go through the motions of dancing one samba, Holly concluded. She was just gearing herself up to do this when another man, crowned with the same menacing glamour as Ruiz, strode up to them. Swinging a welcoming arm around Ruiz’s shoulders, he exclaimed, ‘Hello, my friend. Long time no see.’ His gaze remained fixed on Holly’s face—assessing and no doubt drawing all the wrong conclusions, she thought. This must be the Brazilian friend Ruiz had told her about, Holly concluded as the two men exchanged a fierce hug.

      Ruiz confirmed this when he introduced them. ‘Holly, I’d like you to meet an old friend and adversary of mine—’

      ‘Not so much of the old, please,’ Gabriel insisted with his gaze still trained on Holly. ‘Though I won’t argue about our adversarial tendencies.’

      ‘Gabriel,’ Holly said politely, hoping she wouldn’t get her hand scorched off when she shook his hand. Was there a whole contingent of stunning South Americans living in London? Holly wondered as more, equally striking men joined their group.

      ‘Polo players,’ Ruiz explained, slipping out of Portuguese with Gabriel into Spanish with some of the others. ‘My apologies, Holly,’ he added politely. ‘We will speak only English now,’ Ruiz instructed his friends.

      Polo players? She would never have guessed, Holly mused wryly, taking in the muscular physiques. All the men looked like athletes and none of them was afraid of staring her straight in the eyes. She wasn’t used to such forthright inspection and felt her cheeks fire red. And then Ruiz introduced her by explaining that Holly was an agony aunt, which only brought a fresh blood-rush to her cheeks.

      ‘Holly doesn’t look much like your auntie to me,’ Gabriel commented dryly.

      ‘If you need any help or advice, Holly, don’t hesitate to call me,’ another man drawled.

      ‘Enough,’ Ruiz commanded good-humouredly. To Holly’s further amazement, he then placed a protective arm around her shoulders. ‘You’ll have Holly believing all South Americans are best avoided by respectable women.’

      ‘Respectable women?’ Gabriel commented in a low drawl. ‘Now there’s a rare breed. You must allow me to offer you the hospitality of my club,’ Gabriel added, switching his amused, worldly stare from Holly’s face to Ruiz. ‘At least for the first part of your evening. The rest of the night is up, to you my friends.’

      ‘That’s enough, Gabe.’ Ruiz cautioned his friend in a low voice in a way that made Holly feel unusually protected.

      Not a bad feeling, she concluded, if one she was unused to. Ruiz leaping to her defence was surprise enough, but seeing how quickly the other men backed off when he told them to communicated a lot about Ruiz. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly when they were alone again.

      ‘For what?’ Ruiz demanded.

      ‘I think you know,’ she said.

       CHAPTER SIX

       Playing with fire and the consequences thereof. Someone once told me that dancing is one of the few things we humans do in perfect rhythm with a partner, and that the other notable activity, more often than not, follows afterwards.

       Fat chance, is all I can say.

       Oh, and I would write at greater length, but tapping away under the table while the playboy briefly chats with more admirers doesn’t give me much chance to wax lyrical. I can only say that the consequences of the gawkiest redhead in town attending the hottest club in town with the sexiest man in town, steeling herself to dance the hottest dance on