That his first thought had been to seek out Ruby and share his confusion had propelled him in the opposite direction.
His reaction to her continued to baffle him. In the last two days, he’d expended serious brainpower talking himself out of tracking down the woman who kissed like a seductress but whose innocence his conscience battled with him against tainting.
Dio, when the hell had he even grown a conscience?
With a growl, he grabbed the last of the canapés and munched on it. Delicate flavours exploded on his tongue.
The past two days had shown him how talented Ruby was in the kitchen and behind the bar. Her skill was faultless and she’d risen to his every challenge. In that time, while he’d locked himself in his study to resist temptation, he’d also reviewed the TV show footage and seen why she’d won the contest.
Her skittishness every time the camera had focused on her had also been made apparent.
She hated being under the spotlight. And yet she’d forced herself to do it, just so she could take control of her life.
His admiration for her had grown as he’d watched the footage even as he’d cursed at the knowledge that she was burrowing deeper under his skin.
He looked up as she entered, a silver-topped casserole dish in her hand. The flourish and expertise with which she set the dish down spoke of her pride in her work. He waited until she served them both before he took the first bite.
His hand tightened around his fork. ‘Did you cook this for Simon?’
She visibly deflated. ‘You don’t like it.’
He didn’t just like it. He loved it. So much so he was suddenly jealous of her sharing it with anyone else. ‘I didn’t say that. Did you cook it for him?’
Slowly, she shook her head.
Relief poured through him. ‘Good.’
‘So, you like it?’ she asked again.
‘Sì, very much,’ he responded, his voice gruff.
The pleasure that lit up her face made his heart squeeze. He wanted to keep staring at her, bathe in her delight.
Dio, he was losing it.
He reached for the bottle to pour her a glass of chilled Chablis.
‘No, thanks,’ she said.
His hand tightened around the bottle. ‘You have nothing to fear by drinking around me, Ruby.’
She raised her head and he saw a mixture of anguish and sadness displayed in her eyes. In that moment, Narciso wanted to hunt down the parents who’d done this to her and deliver unforgettable punishment.
‘I know, but I’d like to keep a clear head, all the same.’
He set the wine aside and reached for the mineral water. ‘Well, getting blind drunk on my own is no fun, so I guess we’re teetotalling.’
She rolled her eyes and smiled, and his gut clenched hard.
‘We haven’t discussed wines yet. When we’re done meet me at the upper deck. And wear a swimsuit. The sun may have gone down but you’ll still boil out there in that dress.’
The tension in his body eased when she nodded.
After dinner, he made his way up to the deck. They could do this... They could have a conversation despite the spiked awareness of each other. Or the hunger that burned relentlessly through him—
Five minutes later, she mounted the stairs to the deck and his thoughts scattered.
Madre di Dio!
The body he could see beneath the sarong was spectacular. But he couldn’t see enough of it. And he wanted to, despite the off limits signs he’d mentally slapped on her.
Seeing doesn’t mean touching.
‘Drop the sarong. You don’t need it here.’
She fidgeted with the knot and his temperature rose higher. It loosened as she walked over to the lounger. She finally dropped it, sat down, and crossed her legs. Minutes ticked by. She recrossed her legs.
‘Stop fidgeting.’
She blew out a sigh. ‘I can’t stand the tension.’
‘Well, running away won’t make it go away.’
‘I wasn’t planning to run,’ she replied. ‘You wanted to talk about wines, remember?’
He nodded, although he’d lost interest in that subject. Forcing himself to look away from the temptation of the small waist that flared into very feminine hips and long, shapely legs, he stared at the moon rising over the water.
‘Or I could easily return to my cabin and we can continue to treat each other like strangers.’
He considered the idea for exactly two seconds before he tossed it.
‘What the hell, Ruby mio, let’s give civility a try.’
She exhaled, sat up and poured a glass of mineral water from the jug nearby. ‘Okay, first, I have to ask—what the heck is up with your name, anyway?’
He smiled despite the poker-sharp pain in his gut. ‘You don’t like it?’