Chapter Six
J osh
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. He didn’t want to take some random woman. He wanted to take Ruby. He wanted Ruby...
It’s what he’d been fighting against for the past few weeks. Fuck, it’s what he’d being fighting against since he first saw her photo in this very club.
Alana and Drew had stopped their conversation to listen in, like this was some drama show, and they couldn’t miss a second.
She opened her perfect mouth and then closed it before nodding.
“If you think that’s best,” she said.
If you think that’s best? Fuck, not really the answer he was hoping for. He took a sip of his whiskey, not breaking her gaze. “I do.”
Drew snorted. “Jeez, you know the club can sort that for you. Alana found you Ruby, who I’ve heard great things about, by the way,” he said, looking at her. “But she can also find you dates, you know.”
“I want Ruby.”
Fuck. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that.
Drew’s eyebrows traveled so far up his hairline he thought they might be lost. He cleared his throat. “Well, that settles that.”
“It’s a good experience for you,” he said, looking at Ruby. “You’ll get to network and see how the company gives back.”
He was trying to drag this conversation back into the realm of the professional and failing. Ruby’s chest was rising and falling, her cheeks flushed.
Alana was sitting back, looking like a smug cat. Like this was her chessboard, and she was just moving around the pieces.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “I don’t remember my da—my previous company doing that,” she said hurriedly.
This earned her an odd look from Alana.
Well, this had gotten out of hand. How had he made everything so God-damned awkward? He drained the last of his whiskey, his dinner was already long finished.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, heading out the door. He didn’t want to know what kind of conversation would occur in his wake.
****
T he day dragged on , especially as Ruby had called in sick, but not before instructing Cathy to tell him that she would see him at the event tonight. Sick. Right. It had nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol she was consuming last night. He’d texted Drew to escort her home, or at the very least, to pay for her taxi. He didn’t like the thought of her out on her own. Vulnerable. He’d struggled to get the image of her tears out of his mind. Mercifully, the hands of time moved faster into the afternoon, and then that bled into the evening. He’d offered to pick her up, but she’d declined, telling him she’d meet him at the event.
He sat in his limo, looking at the world, the red carpet. It always seemed ludicrous to him. It wasn’t a movie premiere, it was an event to celebrate the non-profit Fight Homelessness charity he was on the board of. But the pomp and circumstance, the press, the vultures , were all a part of that, raising awareness, getting the articles out there, spreading the word.
He had to play the part.
He exited the limo, straightening his suit, and squinting against the flashbulbs going off all around him. Then there was something else in his sight line. The one all light shone around. Her.
She was wearing a floor-length gown, tight to her body, with a long skirt flowing out behind her. It was silver, like starlight, like lightning in the night. Her hair was loose in tumbling waves, begging him to run his fingers through it. Of course, her lips were ruby red, and just about the most tempting thing he’d ever seen.
Get a grip.
She caught his gaze and held it in the palm of her hand. Her lips parted as she traced his suit, his face, landing back on his eyes.
He walked toward her, his feet begging him to move faster.
“Hello, boss.”
“Hello, beautiful.”
She made a little sound in the back of her throat. “I could say the same about you.”
His lip twitched. “Beautiful?”
“Oh, come on, you see your face every day, you know it’s perfect.” She blushed. “I’m going to stop talking now.”
His smile grew bigger and then fell. Clara. Hanging off the arm of a billionaire thirty years her senior. She looked at him and her dark eyes bulged, making to walk over. No. He couldn’t have that.
He took Ruby’s hand into his own. She looked up at him, eyes full of questions.
It stopped Clara in her tracks.
“Just ... hold my hand. My ex is here, and I don’t need that drama today.”
Ruby glanced over at where Clara stood. “I can do better than that,” she said, her eyes flashing. Before he knew it, she was kissing him, just a light brushing of lips on his own, but it set his blood ablaze.
She pulled back. “There. That will make her jealous, I’m sure.”
He tried to drag his thoughts back to coherent ones that made sense. Because apparently Ruby had the power to rid him of that.
“Jealous? What? No.” He tightened his hand around hers. “You’ve got the wrong idea. She... used me for my money. I thought we loved each other but...” He used his other hand to run through his hair, seeking something to do, his limbs feeling like useless things. Was he really doing this? Explaining this sad part of his life to this beautiful woman? Who, let’s face it, probably thought he was a hot and cold asshole. He licked his lips. He could taste her lipstick. “No, I couldn’t give a fuck about that. About her. I just wanted her to see that I was with someone. That I couldn’t be bought.” He titled his head, preparing himself for what he was about to say next. Her beautiful eyes sparkled. “I do give a fuck about kissing you, though, Ruby Red. And I want you to hold that thought until the night’s over.”