‘No … No, that one’s shut,’ she called out.
Ruiz sauntered back into the hall. ‘Tell me you’re not taking me to that place where they serve lentil soup, and you have to sit round a communal table on hemp sacks?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ she said. ‘They do have private booths.’
‘Where you can sit on even bigger hemp sacks? No, thank you.’
‘So where do you want to go?’ she said irritably.
‘You’re letting me choose?’ Ruiz’s mouth curved in a grin.
Why couldn’t she learn to keep her big mouth shut? She would never be able to afford Ruiz’s preferred style of restaurant. ‘I’m sure I can find somewhere else you would like,’ she told him firmly.
‘I know somewhere you’d like,’ Ruiz countered. ‘It’s walking distance from here—and not expensive,’ he added when Holly’s eyes widened in panic. ‘Mid-week is all about economy, Ms Valiant.’
‘Are you mocking me, Señor Acosta?’
‘Would I?’ he said.
Holly’s look said it all. And now her mind was swinging wildly between the safe café of her choice and somewhere of Ruiz’s choosing—and how economical that would be in terms of their very different incomes. ‘Am I dressed okay for this place of yours?’
‘You’ll do,’ he said, holding her gaze with a raised eyebrow and a sexy grin.
‘It’s still my treat,’ she insisted firmly, trying to hang onto her composure.
‘Of course it is,’ Ruiz agreed. ‘Though I am prepared to make a deal with you.’
Why was he staring at her shoes? Her comfortable, clunky-heeled shoes? They were perfect if they were going to walk to the place Ruiz had mentioned. Did he need to look at them as if she had committed some terrible faux pas and make her even more nervous about stepping into Ruiz’s world than she already was?
‘This is the deal.’ Ruiz angled his disreputably stubbled chin in Holly’s direction. ‘I’ll pay for supper tonight if you wear the shoes I bought for you.’
The shoes he bought? Accept his gift? Take a totter on the wild side on five-inch heels instead of remaining safely corralled inside the magazine column on her clunkies? ‘I can’t walk in high heels. And, anyway, I already told you that I—’
‘Don’t accept gifts from men,’ Ruiz supplied. ‘I do remember.’
‘So, how does this work?’ Holly demanded. ‘I get the shoes and you pay for supper. Do you seriously think I’m going to go for that?’
‘I think you should,’ he said evenly. ‘I think if you had any sense you would.’
‘Well, clearly I don’t have any sense,’ Holly fired back, ‘because—’ Because what? Come on, come on ‘—because tonight is supposed to be my treat for you.’ Ah, yes, sweet relief. ‘Because you have to let me do something in return for allowing me to stay in the Acosta penthouse.’ Yes! ‘And as for wearing a pair of brand-new shoes that you could easily take back to the store and get a refund for—’
‘Oh, get over yourself,’ Ruiz flashed, raising the emotional temperature by a few thousand degrees. ‘You’re my sister’s best friend. If my friends were in London and needed accommodation I would expect Lucia to show them hospitality. This is a courtesy to my sister.’
As she had thought. Okay, she’d asked for that, Holly accepted as Ruiz and his storm-face reached the door. ‘Okay?’ he questioned, banging it open.
‘Okay,’ she fired back. Stepping out of the fictional world she had created for Ruiz and into reality with him might be a little more combative and complex than she had first imagined, Holly realised. And as for the effect on her senses, she could only trust that the keeper of her moral code was on duty tonight.
‘I thought we might go dancing,’ Ruiz dropped in casually as he held the door for her to go through.
‘Dancing?’ Holly managed on a dry throat, knowing her face must have been a picture of doom as she walked past him.
‘Something wrong with that?’ Ruiz demanded, turning to lock the door.
Where to start? Dancing meant touching each other, holding each other, moving as closely as two people could move together, unless they were—
‘Those shoes are perfect for dancing. Thank you for wearing them,’ Ruiz said with worrying charm as she click-clacked across the lobby towards the elevator.
‘My pleasure,’ Holly said primly, which was the understatement of the year. Well, she could hardly leave the shoes alone in a box while she went out, could she? They might fade, or something.