quality in his words. She could feel his heat; her own instinct to draw nearer pulled.
‘Look at me.’ Now there was more than a thread of steely persuasion in that warm voice.
She fought the urge to obey—because he wasn’t going to win her around. She wasn’t going to roll over like so much of her wanted to.
He braced his hands in the door frame and leaned across the threshold.
And she felt it, she really did. His proximity was as good as a touch, spiking her adrenalin, sending shivers along her skin despite that inch of air between his body and hers.
‘Ruben,’ she barely breathed.
She could retreat into her room but she didn’t want to back down in any kind of way. Besides, he’d simply follow her in and that would decimate her control.
‘I’m not touching you,’ he murmured, his sensual dominance merciless. ‘Do you want me to?’
He didn’t have to touch her to tempt her. But his incredible magnetism equally repelled her. More games with him would inevitably cause hurt for her—she always ended up the heartbroken, not the heartbreaker. She’d had only that one night of playing carefree seductress, whereas he’d had many as seducer. And worse, more games could cost her future with the best job she’d ever had. So despite the desire threatening to enslave her, she couldn’t succumb to it.
‘Good night.’ She shoved him back through the doorway and quickly shut the door.
A split second of silence and then he called a teasing comment through the wood. ‘Enjoy those dreams, darling.’
Oh, she would, but dreams were all they were going to be.
‘IT’S supposed to be summer.’ Stupidly forlorn, Ellie stared out of the window at the grey-blanketed land. The steady drizzle had drenched all her plans for the day. How were they going to get out and see the set remnants in this? How was she going to get through another hour under the same roof as Ruben and not jump him—even a roof as huge as this? She had to get out of there.
‘It’s not so bad.’
She turned. He was jeans-clad again. And it was worse than bad.
‘Come and eat something.’ He took her trembling for hunger of the food kind.
‘We can still ride if you don’t mind getting wet,’ he commented, not quite idly, once she’d filled her cereal bowl.
Okay, maybe he knew exactly how much his mere presence tormented her. But she wasn’t ever admitting how wet she already was.
‘I’m not riding with you.’ She glared at him, her spoon halfway to her mouth. She was a frustrated wreck who hadn’t managed to get nearly enough sleep and infuriated with her inability to restrain her attraction to him.
‘If you won’t go on a horse, then it’s the quad bike. It’s too far to walk and it’s rough country, especially in this weather.’ He shrugged. ‘But lots of your tourists would like quad biking, right?’
Quad biking would mean her straddling the seat behind him, her arms around his waist. He was determined to breach her personal space again, wasn’t he? And she was melting already. She shoved the loaded spoon into her mouth and chomped.
‘I can ride one myself,’ she declared once she’d swallowed. She was not cuddling him from behind.
‘Of course.’ He acted as if there’d been no other option anyway. ‘Finish your breakfast. I’ll go get the bikes ready.’
She was glad to see him go—truly glad: his back view didn’t ever worsen any. Not with the casual jeans and clinging tee and, oh, so confident way he had of walking.
So he can walk—she winced at her fan-girly brainlessness—many men can. She returned her focus to the cereal and consumed the lot. If one type of hunger wasn’t going to be sated, another would. At least her legs would lose the cotton-wool feeling.
But twenty minutes later she was astride a powerful machine, with her thighs vibrating. She’d never stand again at this rate. Oh, it was not good. She could not be getting turned on by a hulking great piece of metal. Of course she wasn’t, she was already on.
‘Which way?’ she shouted breathlessly as he paused for her to come alongside his bike.
He just jerked his thumb in answer.
For almost an hour and a half they rode, stopping lots as he pointed out where filming had occurred. Then they powered out and let the machines roar. And she loved every damn second of it. Even in the drizzly, greyed-out day, the landscape was so majestic and ancient, it put all those pesky little things like unquenched lust into perspective—blowing away the sleepless bad temper and leaving exhilaration in its wake.
He, too, had the red-cheeked, bright-eyed excitement. ‘Come on, we can go further up the valley.’
‘The weather doesn’t worry you?’
‘No, are you okay?’
‘I’m good.’ Whether the scenery had been another character in a globally massive movie franchise or not, it was simply stunning. And she wanted more of this wild open air—with him. No matter that her jeans were mud splattered, that the drizzle had gone right through the light coat she was wearing over her jeans so her tee shirt was soaking. As the rain tumbled faster and heavier she was steaming up inside.
She followed his lead across the short tussocky track, down to the vast shingle riverbed. They were about two miles along that when the rain really began to fall. Their wheels churned up large globs of mud. She blinked rapidly to maintain clear vision but ahead of her Ruben’s engine roared angrily as he pushed it. His bike jerked forward and Ellie winced, barely able to watch through half-screwed lids. Despite knowing what was about to happen, she was unable to do anything to help except shout. But even as she did Ruben jumped. His machine tipped, two wheels disappearing into a muddy bank. A half second later, Ruben rolled to his feet in total stuntman style.
‘Hello, Mud-man,’ she teased, hiding the relief that he wasn’t injured. Thankfully they hadn’t been going fast enough for a serious accident.
He was laughing, his eyes alight as he yanked off his helmet and surveyed the damage. ‘I’m going to need a truck to get the bike out of there.’
Ellie refused to notice how his hair had spiked in places, making him look more of a carefree rogue than ever. She hated to think what her own hair looked like now she’d removed her helmet too. More horrendous was the fact they were stuck miles from the lodge and had to share the one bike to get back.
‘You did this deliberately, didn’t you?’ she accused, her adrenalin finding a vent in anger.
‘I’m capable of many great things, but controlling the weather isn’t one of them.’ His laughter became more rueful. ‘This part was more boggy than I expected. And if you must know, the rain bothers me more than it does you.’
‘And why’s that?’ She didn’t believe
