Summer Temptation: Waking Up In The Wrong Bed / Once a Rebel... / The Devil and the Deep

‘And gave you a rough time over it?’

‘You can imagine the slurs at a small-town school back then.’

‘What’s wrong with two people making each other happy?’ Ellie sounded as if she was frowning. ‘Why can’t people just be pleased for them? Doesn’t everyone want to find a great love like that?’

He smiled at her naïveté—she’d watched too many Hollywood happy endings. ‘People can be unkind when they don’t understand or if it’s something they’ve not been around much.’ He hardly ever discussed it, he’d encountered too much intolerance—even in this supposedly modern world. There was just that inevitable smirk or comment—as if his dad were up there with Hugh Hefner or something. But Ellie’s instant emo defence of them had him explaining more than he usually would. ‘They really were a love match and really in love. Sickening really.’ Sometimes even he’d felt excluded from it. This despite knowing he’d been the much-wanted, much-loved product of their relationship. And he’d been determined not to break their blissful ignorance and had never once told them of the taunts he’d suffered. He’d learned to handle the other kids his own way. When he’d first started school as an undersized six-year-old, with English as a second language, a weird accent in a small town with a father already almost at retirement age and a mother younger and more beautiful than everyone else’s? It had been sink or swim—and Ruben had mastered the stroke. ‘They just saw through each other’s layers to the person within, and they loved what they saw.’ He still felt that mix of happiness for them and frustration with them—because they’d been unable to achieve much else because of that total adoration of each other.

‘Has your mum met anyone else since?’ Ellie asked quietly.

‘No. I kind of wish she would,’ he found himself admitting aloud for the first time in his life. ‘But she’s adamant it isn’t going to happen.’

‘Because she buried her heart with him?’

‘Yeah. I think she’s scared of getting that hurt again.’ He understood that too. The loss had been unbearable. ‘She couldn’t stay in New Zealand. Couldn’t stay any place where she’d been with him.’

‘But what about you? You were so young.’ Ellie’s body had gone taut beneath his fingertips again.

He laughed off her concern—the way he laughed off anything that touched too close to vulnerable aches. ‘I wanted to finish what he’d started. I wanted to do that for him.’

‘But it must have hurt her to leave you?’

Her sweet concern stabbed now and he didn’t want it. ‘Mama knew I was okay. And I was busy.’ He’d made sure she’d thought he was okay. By then he was a master of hiding his hurt—those years of coping with childhood taunts had taught him well. You covered up—no one could grin and bear it like Ruben. He could turn any nightmare around with a comment and a smile, hiding how gutted he might be inside. He’d won them over with the ability to laugh and make others laugh—but he never let them close. Not when he knew too well how much it hurt to lose those you held close.

‘It would have hurt her more to stay.’ He dismissed the topic completely, switching to tell her something more about the mountain on their right, and then another anecdote from when Andreas had owned the lodge.

As the big building came into view he directed her to take the bike right up to the main entrance. He’d have it cleaned and put away later. For now it was the two of them who needed hosing down. Indeed, off the bike the first thing Ellie did was glower at his mud-covered clothes and then down at her own.

‘I don’t have any other jeans, you realise.’

Ruben couldn’t contain his amusement. She looked like an earth goddess—a curvy sprite of a woman. Little curls had sprung around her temples, her face damp, her eyes shining. ‘You can borrow some of mine.’

‘Like they’d fit.’

‘They’ll be fine. Now come on, I’m freezing,’ he lied. ‘We don’t want to get a chill.’

He’d taken the cover off the spa pool early this morning and he headed straight for it.

‘I told you I didn’t bring my swimsuit.’ She followed him round the side of the lodge and stared at the pool with an unmistakably longing gleam in her eye.

Yeah, Ellie had a sensualist streak—he wanted her to embrace it.

‘I’ll give you a shirt that’ll do.’ She was going to have to peel off those blue jeans. He’d never appreciated denim as much before and he was a jeans-every-day guy. But hers were wet, hugging her curvy butt and thighs and he wanted to slide his hand down the tight front of them really badly.

He went into the pool house and grabbed a tee, tossing it at her and exiting before he turned into some kind of caveman and went for her mud and all.

He stripped poolside while she was in the change room, and forced himself to go under the outdoor shower—cold—sluicing away the streaks of dirt before quickly getting into the heated water. He badly needed to relax.

‘You can’t resist it, can you?’ she teased as she came out of the pool house, ready to join him. She too had showered. Now his clean shirt was clinging to her wet body beneath.

Ruben pressed the spa bubbles on full to hide how horrifically extreme her effect on him was.

‘Resist what?’ he asked vaguely. Thinking about sex all the time? Hell, he wished he could get her out of his head, or at least get some other woman in. He’d never been unhealthily fixated on one lover like this. He blamed it on the absolute excitement of waking to discover a hot, perfect lover straddling him. Pure fantasy come to life.

Of course he couldn’t help thinking of it and nothing but. Of course he’d had to finagle a way of getting her back in his bed—even just for a weekend. Only it wasn’t proving to be as simple as he’d planned.

‘Seeking out pleasure.’ She shook her head, shivering as she stepped carefully into the steaming water.

‘I work hard so why shouldn’t I enjoy playtime?’ He sent her a sideways look and jeered lightly. ‘Nothing wrong with relaxing and celebrating and enjoying pleasure. We should appreciate it when something feels good.’

‘Don’t think you can get me to yes by glamorising hedonism,’ she answered equally flippantly.

‘But you know how good it was. You told me how good it was.’ And he’d loved hearing it. ‘The best ever.’ And he couldn’t get past it now, not when she was doing the wet-tee-shirt thing in a hot tub.

‘It’s bad form to compare lovers,’ Ellie said primly, sitting on the opposite side of the spa from him and determinedly not looking at his bare chest. She didn’t believe for a second that he actually felt the same way—she hadn’t been his best lover ever as well.

‘I’m not doing that.’ He laughed. ‘I’m merely reminding you that that night with me was the best sex of your life. I can’t understand why you don’t want a repeat of that.’

‘Because it wasn’t real,’ she said simply.

‘It wasn’t real?’ Ruben’s tease vaporised. ‘Wasn’t real?’

In a heartbeat the relaxed, teasing atmosphere snapped to stormy. Ellie’s suddenly feverish temperature couldn’t be blamed on the bubbling water.

‘No, it wasn’t real,’ she insisted.

He stared at her. ‘It was the best sex of your life,’ he declared again, almost defiantly daring her to deny it.

‘Okay, I’ll give you that.’ She cleared her throat. ‘But don’t you think that’s because it was such a fantasy? Like a dream?’ Her half-dreaming state had made the memory even better. ‘So good it couldn’t have been real.’

His obsidian gaze narrowed in on her, compelling more explanation from her.

‘I didn’t know you. You didn’t know me.’ She faltered. ‘We can’t ever recreate that scenario.’

‘So you think our being together again would be a disappointment?’ he asked, incredulous.

‘It would have to be,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t. You’re not curious to know for sure?’

‘I...’ Of course she was curious. It was hard containing that curiosity. But she didn’t want to taint that memory with disappointment, nor did she want to mess up her opportunity at work.

‘You liked fantasy sex.’

‘So did you,’ she defended.

‘Yeah,’ he admitted with a wolfish grin. ‘There are other kinds of fantasy sex.’

She swallowed. ‘I’m not into kink.’

He chuckled. ‘I can come up with many, many simple, sweet fantasies if you like.’

She licked her lips before realising what a revealing piece of body language she’d instinctively performed. She put her hand to her mouth and rubbed—as if she could deny the yearning there.

‘Ellie.’

Oh, help, that had her toes curling, but the rest of her was paralysed. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t run. She just waited as he took the two paces through the water. So close she had to tilt her chin to maintain eye contact—which she was damn well determined to do. So close she could feel his breath, could feel her own muscles weakening as excitement erupted.

He inclined his head, lowering it almost enough. ‘You want fantasy?’ His lips barely moved as he challenged.

Ellie couldn’t breathe at all now, couldn’t hear a thing other than the echo of his words and the amplified thud of her heart. Blood shot to her extremities, her skin suddenly super sensitive. Every cell sensitive. And screaming out. Screaming so loud her reason was muted. So she was the one to tilt her chin that tiny bit further, bringing their lips into contact.

She was lost in that instant. She shut her eyes, only able to focus on the velvet warmth of his kiss. The insistence of his lips, his tongue. Oh, she opened, she let him in. She let him, let him, let him. Because what he demanded was exactly what she wanted—passion and need. So swiftly his touch swept her into that burning vortex where thought and caution were flung away because this ecstasy was all that mattered.

With every lush caress of his mouth, her resistance melted. She melted, her muscles sliding towards his strength, her mouth moving to welcome his demand. But there was a kernel of tension, slowly knotting, growing, sending the message that only his lips touching hers was not enough. Not nearly enough. She craved closer contact, craved for them to meld completely. Chest to breast, thigh to thigh, for their arms to curl and cling and for them to literally be locked in intimacy. Oh, she wanted that, she wanted that now.

She moaned—a song of need, a plea. The pressure of his mouth increased, his tongue flicking in an erotic tease that saw her tremble with it. For her body to move of its own accord—closer, closer, closer. They were inches apart in warm water, she wanted to feel his strong muscles, to press their wet skin together...

‘That fantasy enough for you?’ he asked, his voice rough as he stepped back. The water splashed as he sat down again on the opposite side of the tub.

Ellie couldn’t believe he’d kissed her like that and then let her go. She couldn’t believe the intensity in his expression—in his action—had suddenly vanished. ‘You’re the most awful tease.’

‘Actually I think you’re the one who can claim that crown,’ he argued in that charming rogue way.

‘I’m not teasing at all. You’re the one who keeps crossing the boundaries.’ She swept her sodden hair from her face.

‘You keep tempting me to.’ He shrugged.

‘So it’s all my fault?’

‘Absolutely.’

Unable to help it, despite knowing it was what he wanted, she laughed.

‘You think it’s funny?’

She nodded. ‘You’re so good for a girl’s ego.’

‘Well, that is my raison d’être.’ He inclined his head.

Ellie nodded. Yes, he’d gone back to form—a charming, carefree man made for good humour and good times. Yet she sensed that impenetrable wall only a millimetre beneath his surface.

Damn it, the whole complicated package fascinated her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘PUT these on while we get your things cleaned and dried.’

‘I didn’t think I’d need more than one pair of jeans. I wasn’t expecting a mudbath,’ Ellie said with defiance born of embarrassment as she took the jeans and tee Ruben held out to her and then dived to her bedroom to get decent.

She figured that at least he was never going to get off on the ‘she’s wearing my clothes’ thing—they totally swamped her. But suddenly she was feeling decidedly ‘his’ now wearing his jeans and tee. It was pathetically primeval but utterly seductive.

When she went out to the kitchen he was waiting with two giant mugs of coffee—perfect, as she’d been having some dangerous thoughts about heading to a nearby bed.

‘What do you do when you’re here alone and the weather’s closed in like this?’ she asked, desperate to make innocuous conversation.

‘I read.’

‘Let me guess, thrillers? Gory crime stories?’

‘No.’ He lifted his mug and led her down the hallway, pushing open the door to the large, plush study. He walked to a bookshelf around a corner, further away from the others. ‘Non-fiction.’

‘Oh, wow.’ Ellie gazed at the partially hidden display. Architecture books. Big, expensive, beautiful architecture and design books. Covering all kinds of buildings—not just hotels but homes and castles, inner-city apartments, outback homesteads and skyscrapers. The works.

‘You’ve got a ton.’ She moved in front of the shelf and pulled a couple out, then folded to sit cross-legged and opened the first book. It was the perfect safe time-killer.

He followed suit, leaning opposite her, soon burrowed in cushions and flicking through books. They talked, compared favourites, argued about the ugly. Almost two hours passed and Ellie couldn’t help thinking that, despite his outrageous flirt moments, his life appeared to be all work.

‘So where do you hang out most?’ she asked, chuckling when she saw his startled expression. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to start stalking you.’

‘At the hotels.’

‘But where do you exercise? You play rugby or something?’ Surely he was in a team. He totally had the fitness for it.

‘I use the gyms in the hotels.’

Oh, of course he did. ‘You don’t actually have a home of your own?’

‘There’s no point.’ He kept flicking pages and didn’t look up to answer her. ‘I visit the hotels on a constant rotation. I use a room in them. That way I can keep an eye on the quality of the service.’

Ellie glanced around the pristine interior of the place. ‘Don’t you have any personal stuff?’ Aside from architecture books?

‘Like what?’ he asked absently, still looking at the book spread on his lap.

‘Family photos?’ Anything?

‘I have some on my phone.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I’m minimalist. I have an office at the chateau but most of the stuff I need is on my laptop.’

‘And what do you do for fun?’

‘Work is fun.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘I love what I do. Don’t you love what you do?’

‘Sure I do. I really do, actually.’

Ruben, now back in position leaning against cushions, had a sly look in his eye. ‘You’re meaning social fun, aren’t you?’ he asked.

She shrugged as if she weren’t that interested. ‘I’m guessing you enjoy your guests’ company.’

‘Some more than others,’ he answered glibly. ‘But not in the way you’re thinking. You were an exception and you know it.’

Yes, but nothing could come of the flame between them—there was no future in terms of a relationship. She might bring tours here but she could avoid him completely if she wanted to.

Thing was, she didn’t want to.

But she knew that if she agreed to a fling, when it was over there’d be no contact at all between them. It was how she worked and she was pretty sure it was how he’d work too.

The thought of not ever seeing him again squeezed her vulnerable heart hard. She wanted to see him. She wanted to know how his current deal worked out. She liked hanging out, she liked the aura of freedom he had, she liked how he made her laugh. Yeah, she wanted more of his company and she shouldn’t. But if she worked out some boundaries—where she wouldn’t give too much and thus not expect too much either—then maybe she could live with it.

‘I think we should try to be friends,’ she blurted decisively. ‘We should put this on a friend level.’

Ruben choked on nothing but fresh air.

‘I’m serious.’ She smiled as she watched him gasp. ‘We have a lot in common. We laugh together. We’re similar in that work is important to us. We get on well.’

‘And your point?’

She figured she could have him in her life as a friend, or not have him in her life at all. And though she knew she probably should, given how attractive she found him, she wasn’t ready to cast him out of her life completely. She was still too curious. ‘We can be civilised, can’t we?’

‘There’s nothing civilised about the things I want to do with you.’

She closed her eyes for a second and waited for the blood to recede from her cheeks. ‘But if we have a fling what do you think will happen in the end?’

He didn’t answer.

‘What usually happens?’ she prompted.

He began to smile, that wry, rueful smile.

‘Are you in contact with any of them?’ she asked softly.

His shoulders lifted. ‘If our paths cross we smile and wave and it’s all lovely and amicable.’

‘Because they have too much pride to show you how hurt they are inside,’ Ellie said dryly.

His brows lifted. ‘Honey, I’m not with any one woman long enough for her to get hurt.’

Ellie’s laugh came out as a snort but his words made her all the more resolved—she didn’t want too few hot nights, she’d rather have long-term laughs.

‘Well, okay, what about you?’ he said firmly. ‘Are you in contact with your exes?’

As if. ‘I haven’t had as many as you,’ she said pointedly. ‘But usually what happens is I have a relationship and, not too long later, the guy moves on. I used to try everything to please him, so he’d stick around longer, but I’m not going to bend myself into any more boxes in order to try to keep anyone.’ She was never doing that again. ‘I don’t see any of them any more.’

‘So you’re not going to bend into any boxes for me?’

She shook her head with a laugh.

‘I’m feeling a little insulted,’ he said mildly.

‘Don’t be. Actually you should feel pleased. I want to stay in touch with you.’ She really did.

‘And that’s a first? None of your other men?’

‘How many do you think there’ve been?’ She rolled her eyes when she saw the amused look on his face. ‘No, I’m not in touch with any of the two hundred and eighty-four. They were jerks.’

He laughed. ‘I don’t want to be a jerk to you. I like you. I like talking to you.’

‘Exactly!’ Great, this was easier than she’d thought it would be.

‘I still want to have sex with you, though.’

Okay, maybe not so easy. ‘You’ll get over that.’

‘You’re saying you’re over it?’ He moved towards her.

She darted sideways out of reach. ‘Look—’ she held him off firmly ‘—everybody says you have to feed passion, indulge it, have so much until you don’t want it any more. But the only way to kill a fire is to starve it.’

‘And you want to kill it?’ He paused, clearly in disbelief.

‘Well, that’s best, right? Because I don’t want us to lose all contact. I like hanging out with you.’

‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or insulted. You want me to be your buddy?’ His unbelieving smile became positively evil. ‘How about buddy with benefits?’

‘No benefits. Too messy. It would never work.’ She was adamant on that.

He stared at her. ‘You really want to be friends more than you want to have sex again?’ he asked, utterly incredulous.

She inhaled deeply. ‘Yes.’

‘I don’t believe you. In fact I reckon I could get you to change your mind in about a minute or less.’

‘If you put your mouth to that task, then I’d probably have to agree with you,’ she admitted. ‘But then I’d walk out of your life and that would be that. I don’t want to have a fling with you. But I do want to be a friend.’

‘You’re giving me an ultimatum?’ He sat an inch from her, clearly astounded.

‘Think of it as a challenge.’

‘Why would I put myself through that kind of a challenge?’

‘How many friends do you have?’ she asked, deadly serious.

‘I have hundreds of friends.’

‘I mean real, true, deep friends?’ she asked.

‘Friends are friends.’ He shrugged off her scepticism. ‘I like lots of them.’

‘Then this should be easy, right?’ she teased.

He sighed. ‘You really don’t want to be friends with benefits, or even just little perks?’

‘That way lies mess and complication. This way lies companionship.’

‘Companionship.’ He all but spat the word.

‘I know there’s no such thing as commitment from a guy like you, Ruben.’

He turned into a statue before her eyes.

‘To be honest, that’s not what I want in my life at this stage either,’ she reassured him with a smile. ‘Things are exciting for me. I’ve got this great job with awesome opportunities...’ She wanted to focus on succeeding with that.

‘Do you really think we can get past the physical attraction?’ Ruben really wasn’t sure that was going to be possible.

‘Sure we can. We’re adults, not animals.’

‘You like it animal,’ he taunted softly, pleased that she still blushed for him.

‘You’ll forget that, eventually.’

He doubted that very much.

‘Are you afraid you’re going to fail at this, Ruben?’

Oh, she thought he would, didn’t she?

‘What do you get out of it?’ he asked softly. ‘Surely you have other friends already, right? So what is it you get from me that you get from no one else? If it isn’t going to be stellar sex, what is it?’

Her flush deepened and she looked away.

He moved closer—not to touch her, but to really see her response. ‘Answer me, or I say no to this and get you panting for it in less than a minute. Be honest. What do you get from me?’

‘Just that, I guess.’ She shrugged. ‘I can be as rude as I like with you. I can be honest and you laugh at me and with me. I can completely be myself and it doesn’t matter.’

That struck some long-buried nerve deep inside him. ‘And you can’t do that with anyone else?’

‘Not quite the same, no.’ She inhaled. ‘I don’t feel like I have to please you. I don’t think I have to do anything but be me with you.’

Ruben looked into her blue eyes, trying to read her. He’d decided never to give a damn what anyone thought of him in life. Ellie’s approach couldn’t be more different. She cared too much about what people thought—she worked stupidly hard to please them. But it was both a weakness and a strength. It was part of what made her so good at her job, but clearly it had caused her some misery in terms of affairs. And she felt as if she could be free in his company?

Ruben narrowed in on the vulnerability in her blue eyes—and recognised blossoming fear. She was afraid he’d refuse her—that she’d asked for something he didn’t want.

And what did he want? To have her in his life for a sex-filled night or two, or for longer as someone to hang with? He tried to think but looking into her eyes was a distraction. They were beautiful—wide and deep, like a vast ocean. Oddly he realised that her wanting just to hang out with him, feeling as if she could, made him feel good in a way he’d never felt before. A way that he didn’t know how to analyse—couldn’t—what with that weird ringing in his ears.

‘Saved by the bell,’ Ellie was muttering grimly.

Oh, there really was ringing—the doorbell. Ruben took her hand and marched her to the door with him. He didn’t want her stropping off to her room because he’d taken too long to answer.

‘Ruben?’ An older woman stood in the entranceway, impeccably groomed and dressed in summer country casual. ‘I’m so glad you’re home.’

‘Oh, hi.’ He drew a quick breath and put his photographic memory to good use. ‘Margot, isn’t it?’ He’d placed her face—one of the society matriarchs in Queenstown. Lovely woman, very proper, probably wanted something for a good cause. He let go of Ellie and stepped forward to shake the older woman’s hand.