He stretched out his legs, relishing the battle of wills ahead.
When was the last time he’d had to actively seduce a woman? To put some effort into the chase?
He’d chosen Gemma and nearly all of her predecessors in his bed, specifically because they’d been willing to let him set the pace. What he hadn’t realised until today was that his decision to always take the path of least resistance had resulted in his sex life becoming remarkably dull.
What was it they said about no pain, no gain?
He had the feeling Ruby, with her impulsive, flirtatious nature, her smart mouth and her desire to be in charge, had the potential to be a royal pain in the backside, but those very same qualities also made her electrifyingly sexy and a major challenge. And if the arousal flooding through his veins at the glimpse of cleavage as she propped her elbows on their table was anything to go by, the gain was going to be worth the pain.
Slinging his arm over the back of her chair, he leaned in close and brushed the unruly curls of hair behind her ear.
‘Nice choice,’ he murmured, loving the way she shivered as his breath brushed her ear lobe. ‘Why don’t you order for us? You seem to have the connections to get the best service and I’m famished.’ She probably knew the menu off by heart. ‘And then we can dance it off before we discuss damages.’
Her big brown eyes widened beautifully as her head whipped round. ‘You know how to salsa?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ he said, stroking the back of her neck with his thumb under the heavy fall of hair. ‘But I think you’ll discover I have a few talents.’
Salsa being the least of them.
She shivered again—and he had to resist the urge to throw back his head and laugh at the sparkle of irritation in her eyes and the dark sheen of stunned arousal.
Score one to me.
For goodness’ sake.
The infernal man didn’t look uncomfortable in the least. If anything, he looked positively smug. And if that weren’t bad enough, the light rub of his thumb against her nape was making her want to roll over and purr. Pulling away from the sensual torture before she did just that, Ruby signalled Sol’s wife, Chantelle, and ordered a selection of tapas dishes and a margarita for herself. Westmore then chimed in and ordered a beer—in fluent Spanish. Chantelle carried on a brief conversation with him of which Ruby only managed to catch about two words. Giving a throaty laugh, the waitress leaned over to clear the empty plates and glasses that had been left on their table and whispered in Ruby’s ear.
‘He’s a hot one, querida, she said in her thick Spanish accent, the tone husky with humour. ‘Maybe even too hot for you to handle, eh?’
As Chantelle strolled off, the tray perched expertly on her arm, Ruby assessed her date. And struggled to regroup.
Well, he was certainly hot.
With his sleeves rolled up, her eyes were drawn to the muscles in his forearm as he tapped his fingers on the table to the beat of the music. Acknowledging the twist and throb of desire, she dismissed it.
So what if he was hot? He couldn’t possibly be too hot for her to handle.
‘Where did you learn to speak Spanish?’ she asked. Maybe polite conversation was the best way to cool things down a bit. She liked heat as much as the next girl but getting incinerated wasn’t part of her plan.
‘I lived in Barcelona for a few years after law school.’
‘You’re a lawyer?’ Which would explain his affinity for the rule of law, Ruby thought. But not her overwhelming attraction.
‘I’m a barrister,’ he corrected easily.
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She could just picture him in court, directing a jury in robes and a white wig. Instead of making him seem ridiculous, the image only made him seem more commanding.
‘And you make cupcakes for a living?’ he countered.
‘I do.’ She straightened, waiting for the derogatory comment. People often thought what she did was frivolous and inconsequential. Given the gravity of this guy’s profession, she could just imagine what he was thinking about her little bakery business.
‘And according to the Standard, they’re the best cupcakes in the known universe.’
‘You read Ed Moulder’s review?’ The veteran food writer had gushed about A Touch of Frosting, and Ruby was inordinately proud of the review, but still the admiration in Callum’s voice took her by surprise.
‘The man had quite a crush on your cupcakes,’ he added. ‘And he’s notoriously hard to please.’