blinked in surprise. “A beer?”
“Whatever you have on tap.”
“Not some expensive forty-year-old scotch? Just regular old beer?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care what it is. As long as I’m having that drink with you.”
Ruby scowled, and quickly poured him the cheapest beer, making sure to leave lots of foam. Taking the glass, he slugged back a long gulp, then wiped the foam from his mouth. “Delicious.”
Her scowl deepened as she turned away, moving around the bar, fixing drinks with impressive speed. He could see why she dressed in a sleeveless cotton shirt. The club was warm, and she moved so swiftly from the bottles to the well drinks, grabbing glasses and ice, it was almost athletic.
Ares nursed his beer, watching her work. Her full breasts were spectacular, yes, but every last bit of her was amazing. His gaze traced appreciatively over her softly curved arms. Her backside was nicely curved, too. He’d never seen any woman with such an hourglass shape, and her bottom was something a man could really hold on to. He nearly groaned at the erotic images that suddenly filled his mind.
But it wasn’t just her curves. Ruby Prescott had other, more subtle charms. Her thick black lashes, now fluttering with irritation against her pale skin. The tremble of her lips, ruby red like her name. She frequently bit them in concentration as she worked. His eyes traveled over the sweep of her long hair, dark as a raven’s wing, tumbling down her back. The curve of her bare shoulder. The angry gleam of her dark eyes, which suddenly met his accusingly.
“Why are you doing this? Is it some kind of game to you?”
“Why?” he asked, sipping his cheap beer. “Is it one to you?”
“If you think I’m playing hard to get, you’re wrong.” Standing directly in front of him on the other side of the bar, Ruby glared. “For you, I’m impossible to get.”
Her expression was fierce, her dark eyes glinting like a lightning storm over a dark ocean. Her chest rose in quick, angry breaths. She didn’t even realize her beauty, he thought. She had no idea. And unlike everyone else in the world, she wasn’t at all impressed by him.
And in that moment, Ares knew he had to have her.
Tonight.
Whatever it took.
Whatever it cost.
He would have her.
WHAT WAS THIS stupid Greek billionaire trying to do?
Ruby’s body felt strangely tight as she turned to pour a drink. She could feel his hot gaze trailing over her body.
She couldn’t imagine why a man like Ares Kourakis would be paying attention to her. He could have any woman here—starlets attending the film festival, ski bunnies, rich debutantes just in from the French Alps. He couldn’t possibly be interested in a regular girl like Ruby.
But why else would he be sitting at the bar, not looking at anyone but her and meekly drinking the worst-tasting beer in the world?
She couldn’t think of any other reason.
People were starting to notice, too. Monty and the waitstaff were constantly sneaking glances while the female customers sitting at the bar looked as if they’d happily stab her with their olive picks.
Ruby served up two gin and tonics, a screwdriver and a rum and Coke, then turned on him angrily. “Seriously,” she hissed, bending closer over the bar. “What is your problem?”
Ares’s gaze bored into her. “You.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“You’re the most desirable woman in the club. You fascinate me.”
She saw the dark hunger in his eyes. A flash of heat traveled through her body. She had little experience with men, but she would’ve had to be blind not to see that he wanted her.
Her gaze traced over him. The hard edge of his jaw, rough with five-o’clock shadow. The rough curl of his short dark hair. The rhythmic thrumming of his powerful fingers against the wood bar. She was aware of him in a way she didn’t want to be. Aware of everything, even the way her own knees felt suddenly weak beneath her.
He’d caused that just by looking at her. Just by telling her she was desirable. She’d thought she couldn’t fall for any rich man’s charm. That she was too smart to fall for it.
But was she? She felt strangely intoxicated, though she hadn’t had anything to drink. She felt like she was in a dream, though she was awake. This man, so handsome, arrogant and wealthy—so out of her league—had made just the barest effort and her whole body quivered, as if on his command.
What was wrong with her?
And, oh, sweet heaven, what would it do to her if he actually touched her?
What would it feel like if he lifted his hand from the bar and stroked her cheek? If his fingertips traced down her throat? If he cupped his hand gently around her breast?
Ruby’s nerve endings zapped with shock, her nipples tightening beneath her cotton bra. A sweet low ache coiled low and deep inside her. She put her hands on the bar to steady herself.
“What...” The words caught in her throat, and she swallowed, her voice suddenly shaky. “What do you want?”
His dark gaze fell to her lips. He smiled.
“Dance with me.”
Dance with him? This Greek god whom everyone else was losing their minds over? Ruby caught at the tendrils of her sanity. “No.”
“Why not?”
Don’t ever believe anything a rich man tells you. Her mother’s sad voice came back to her. They are liars, all of them. Liars and thieves.
Taking a deep breath, Ruby squared her shoulders and managed to say in a calm, strong voice, “I don’t dance.”
“You don’t dance? You don’t drink? You are old-fashioned.” His eyes slowly traced her body, making her cheeks hot in spite of herself. “I could teach you,” he murmured. “When is your break?”
She gripped the edge of the bar. “No, thanks. I just work here. It’s not what I do for fun.”
Ares tilted his head thoughtfully, taking a sip of his beer. “What do you do for fun?”
“I...” Ruby tried to remember. It had been a long time since fun was on her agenda. Even before her mother got sick, before Ruby had taken three jobs to provide for their family, she’d been busy after school, taking care of Ivy and running the house, back when their mom was the one who’d worked three jobs. Ruby blinked. Fun?
Ares covered her hand with his own.
“Tell
