The Ultimate Playboy(105)

                Narciso stood to one side of the group, his silver eyes square on her face.

                ‘Ruby?’ she heard her mother’s concerned voice from far away as the heavy scissors slipped from her grasp.

                ‘Ruby!’

                She turned and fled.

                * * *

                ‘Ruby.’ He breathed her name as if it were a life-giving force, pulling her from the murky depth of pain. ‘Open the door, per favore.’

                She snatched the door she’d slammed shut moments ago wide open. ‘You ruined my opening. Weeks of preparation, of breaking my back to make this perfect, and you swooped in with your stupid face and your stupid body and ruined it.’ She found herself inspecting his face and body and tore her gaze away.

                ‘Mi dispiace. I wanted...I needed to see you.’

                ‘Why? What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said?’

                His jaw tightened. ‘A lot. You returned all my gifts.’

                ‘I didn’t want them.’

                He took a step into the room. ‘And the NMC cheque? You returned it to me ripped into a hundred pieces.’

                ‘I was making a point. Why did you keep sending me stuff?’

                ‘Because I refused to contemplate giving up. I refused to imagine what my life would be like without the thinnest thread of hope keeping me going.’

                She wanted to keep her gaze averted, but, like a magnet, it swung towards him.

                He looked incredible, the five-o’clock shadow gracing his jaw making him look even more stunning. But a closer look pinpointed a few surprising changes.

                ‘You’ve lost weight,’ she murmured.

                He shut the door behind him and she caught the faint snick of the lock. ‘So have you. At least I have an excuse.’

                ‘Really?’

                ‘Sì, Michel threatened to quit. We agreed on a month-long vacation.’

                ‘You don’t deserve him.’

                He grimaced. ‘That’s entirely true. He wasn’t happy when he realised his culinary efforts were going to waste.’ He threaded his fingers together and stared down at them. When he looked back up, his eyes were bleak, infinitely miserable. Her heart kicked hard. ‘I can’t eat, Ruby. I’ve barely slept since you left.’

                ‘And this is my fault? I didn’t leave. You threw me out, remember?’

                He paled and nodded, his nostrils thinning as he sucked in a long, ragged breath. ‘I was wrong. So very wrong to believe even for a second that you were anything like Maria.’

                ‘And you’ve suddenly arrived at this conclusion?’

                ‘No. All the signs were there. I just refused to see them because I’d programmed myself to believe the worst.’

                Her heart kicked again, this time with the smallest surge of hope. ‘What signs?’

                ‘Your determination to push me away when I came to your apartment. Your tears in the car on the way back home. Your clear distress when my father touched you. Why would you encourage me to reconcile with my father and turn round and betray me?’