thought today we could go back to the café with Annabelle—like you asked me to.’
She smiled. Did that mean her mistake was being forgotten, or was this part of his apology? He still hadn’t moved. He still hadn’t fastened her zipper.
She nodded. Not breathing was getting difficult. ‘Okay.’
‘Do you like the dresses?’
She could feel his breath warm the skin on her shoulder.
‘I love them—but I don’t need them. Rufus didn’t need to do that.’
‘He didn’t do it.’
She froze. One of his hands moved and rested on her hip.
This was all becoming remarkably familiar. Richard Gere was going to appear any second now. Didn’t he buy Vivian a new wardrobe in Pretty Woman?
Her profession might not compare with Vivian’s, but the thought of Alex purchasing a whole wardrobe for her was both mildly disturbing and somehow exciting. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or overjoyed.
‘I don’t think I like this, Alex. You can’t buy me. You can’t dress me up as if I’m your little doll.’ She could feel her stomach tighten.
But Alex just shook his head. ‘I’m not buying you, Ruby. I don’t care whether you wear the clothes or not.’ He waved his hand. ‘If you don’t like them give them away—give them to charity. It makes no difference to me.’
He stepped a little closer.
‘I guess I’m just not good at this. I’m trying to say sorry. Sorry about how I reacted over Annabelle. For a second I thought she was gone. I thought someone had kidnapped my daughter—I overreacted. And...’ He waved his hands again. ‘This is how I say sorry. Doesn’t every woman like clothes?’
The tightness in her chest dissipated. It was clear he meant every word.
‘What are you going to do if it happens again?’
He smiled. ‘Silent alarms. Everywhere. If Annabelle opens her door in the middle of the night alarms will go off in my room, Brigette’s room and in Security.’ He looked over his shoulder and whispered. ‘And, don’t tell her, but we’ve actually had tracking devices sewn into all her pyjamas.’
She laughed. He was sorry, and he’d put steps in place to ensure Annabelle’s safety. Of course he had. She hadn’t doubted that for a second, but it made her mood lighten.
He nudged her, and pointed to the dresses as he slid a hand around her waist.
‘Which is your favourite?’
He was so close. His lips were almost touching her ear. If she just moved her head a little...
‘The blue one.’
‘Why?’
‘I like the colour.’ The rush of blood was heating her cheeks. Her answer had been automatic.
She was conscious of the lightness of his fingers on her hip. Would he make the connection between the colour of the dress and the colour of his eyes? No. Guys didn’t do that kind of thing.
This time his lips did brush against her ear. ‘I like the red one. It reminds me of you in Paris. The same colour as your coat.’
A whole host of tiny centipedes were marching along her arms with their hundreds of legs, making every single hair stand on end.
His finger touched the skin of her back. She gasped. It wasn’t cold—it was just unexpected. A thousand butterfly wings had just exploded on her back, and all the little nerve-endings were waiting for the next sensation.
He bent a little lower and whispered in her ear again. This time it felt as if his breath was caressing her skin.
‘Ten years is a long time, Ruby.’
He pulled the zipper up with his finger inside, then ran it along the upper end of her spine, resting his fingers at the base of her neck.
Her legs were turning to jelly. It was ridiculous. It was nothing. But she felt as if she’d waited ten years for that.
Ten years of dreaming. Ten years of imagining. Ten years of hoping.
She stepped backwards. Against him. Into him. Feeling the full length of his body next to hers. Her eyes were fixed outside, on the gardens. If she turned around and looked at those blue eyes she might do something much more inappropriate than fall asleep next to his daughter.
She rested her head back against his chest. ‘Yes, it is.’
Her voice was tinged with sadness.
They both stood there—neither moving. It was almost as if they were happy for this to be the first tiny step. The first real acknowledgment that their time ten years ago hadn’t just been a figment of her imagination that she’d played over and over in her head.
She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back. The heat from his body through the thin fabric of her dress. It felt natural. It felt as if this was exactly the place she was supposed to stand. As if this was exactly the place she was meant to be.
His hand moved slightly from her hip around to her stomach. His other hand met hers and he threaded their fingers together in front of her.
This might be wrong.
It might be inappropriate.
But why did it feel so good?
‘Your Highness?’
The voice came echoing down the hall and they sprang apart. Alex disappeared out of her door in flash to meet Rufus, who was muttering again.
Ruby’s feet were stuck to the floor.
Had that really just happened?
Her body was telling her yes. Every sense seemed to be on fire.
But her brain was turning to mush. Sensible, rational thoughts seemed to have flown from the building.
Ruby was logical. Ruby was always sensible.
The one time in her life she hadn’t been entirely sensible had been ten years ago in Paris. Ten years ago she’d acted on impulse. And look where that had got her.
But ten years ago she’d felt the same tiny flicker of warmth and excitement that was burning inside her right now.
This was the first time she hadn’t felt like the hired help.
This was the first time she’d felt as if she wasn’t here just for Annabelle.
Question was: what was she getting herself into?
