All He Wants For Christmas...

‘Because I’m hard to buy for? Or because I’m homeless.’

‘Neither. There’s something else about you that makes you a dismal relationship choice, and once again I can credit my recently departed father for giving me a heads up.’

‘Sounds ominous.’

‘It is. It’s about deception and disguise and people who deliberately portray themselves as something they’re not. You make a charming wastrel, by the way. I’m very impressed. But that’s not what you are.’

‘So what am I?’ he asked quietly.

‘Far smarter than you’re letting on, for starters,’ she offered bluntly. ‘Beautifully evasive when it comes to talking about your work, your needs and your lifestyle choices. An old hand, I surmise, at keeping whatever passes for the real you completely hidden from view. You’re not feckless, Damon. You’re a liar.’

CHAPTER TWO

IT REALLY wasn’t supposed to work like this, thought Damon grimly. Finally he’d encountered a woman who saw more of him than most—and granted, she had the benefit of working for his father and therefore knowing more of his family background than most women did at first glance—but still …

Wasn’t she supposed to like what she saw of the real Damon West? Admire his complexity and want to know more, not label him a liar and a bad relationship bet along with it.

‘Everybody lies, Ruby,’ he protested carefully, and watched her lips twist into a bitter smile.

‘Not everybody, Damon. Not to the extent that you do. Few people misrepresent themselves the way you do. Only those with something to hide. Con men, thieves, spooks. Shadow people. The ones you can never know because they never let you, and the only thing you can count on is that you’ll wake up one day and they’ll be gone. Who are you really, Damon? What is it that you do? Are you a money tracker? Is that why your father respects you? Are you here looking for a lead on my father? Because I’ve already told you, I don’t know where he is.’

‘I’m not a money tracker.’

‘Then what are you? Special intelligence service like your brother and sister? What? I’m being as forthright as I know how to be. Just tell me why you’re here and what you need from me. If I have it, it’s yours. No seduction required. No more pretty lies. I am so sick of lies.’

Her eyes were like bruises and they got to him more than he cared to admit.

‘I’m not SIS, and I swear—on my father’s honour—that I’m not hunting your father, or the money he stole, or anything else related to him or to you. Look at me,’ he commanded softly and waited until she did. ‘I’m here for Christmas with my family, that’s all. No hidden agenda, Ruby. None.’

‘Oh, hell,’ she murmured, and looked around the shopping centre, blinking fast as if holding back tears. ‘I’m sorry. I thought …

It felt …’

‘Like you were being played. You were, but not with nefarious intent.’ She’d wanted the truth from him and he gave her what he could. ‘I thought you could handle yourself. I thought you could handle me. Maybe I’m not all I seem to be, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’m not the kind of man Ruby Maguire needs to have around her right now. I’ll give you that too. I didn’t know that earlier. Now I do. No more playing with Ruby, see?’ He took a careful step back to emphasise his words. ‘No harm done.’

‘I’m sorry, I … You must think I’m a paranoid nutter,’ she muttered, setting her shopping bags down so she could slide her headband off, shake her curls free and put it back on again. Busywork for her hands while she looked anywhere but at him.

‘It’s not wrong to be careful of other people, Ruby. I would be too, were I in your position.’ He let her collect her composure. He looked at the nearest retail store, seeking distraction and finding it. ‘I’m thinking I might need some casual wear,’ he offered. ‘As a Christmas gift from my father to me.

They sell that kind of menswear around here, right?’

‘Right,’ she said and took a deep breath.

‘Can we bypass the polo shirts though?’

‘Good call,’ she murmured. ‘I’m betting upscale grunge is far more you. I’m thinking jeans to start with and we’ll improvise from there. How are you off for underclothes?’ She rallied fast, did Ruby Maguire, and Damon’s admiration for her rose a notch.

‘Do they have a brand name plastered all over them?’

‘Only on the band.’

‘In that case, I don’t want any. I prefer my underwear anonymous.’

‘Of course you do,’ she murmured soothingly. ‘I should have guessed. Would you like any help with your clothing selection, or shall I just wait?’

‘I want your help. Whatever it was you did in the other store, do that,’ he added. ‘Only faster.’

Half an hour later Ruby had Damon outfitted in clothes that might even find their way into his travel bag, and relative amicability had been restored. Ruby had more shopping to do but none that required Damon’s assistance.

Damon had more shopping to do too, and he definitely didn’t need assistance. Ruby had agreed to drop him off at the Golden Computer Shopping Centre in Kowloon. Damon would find his own way back to the apartment. Too easy.

‘Mind the scams,’ she said as they loaded up her car with his father’s purchases.

‘I shall enjoy them immensely,’ he murmured and she shot him a perplexed glance. ‘I’m only browsing, Ruby. Seeing what’s new and improved or old and abused. I do it every time I come to Hong Kong.’

‘So … you really do work with computers?’

Damon nodded. Not a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. Ruby headed for the driver’s seat. Damon to the passenger side.

‘Is there any particular type of food or beverage you’d like me to stock the apartment with?’ she asked as they filled the car with shopping bags and then themselves. ‘Your favourites? Your sisters’ favourites?’

‘Lena likes a good Sauvignon Blanc, Poppy loves lychees and I’m a sucker for crispy duck in pancake pockets with all the trimmings. No one’s all that keen on a-thou-sand-year-old eggs, shark-fin soup, turtle jelly, or chicken-feet anything.’

‘Not a problem. I’ll steer clear of the swallow’s nest tonics and imported Japanese blowfish too. And, Damon?’

The seriousness was back in her voice.

‘I’m really sorry about our earlier misunderstanding.’

‘Don’t be,’ he said gently. ‘I’ve forgotten it already.’

Ruby hit the grocery stores after that. White wine, fresh fruit—including lychees—and crispy duck with all the trimmings. Snack food for Russell’s fridge that she took back to the apartment immediately in the hope that Damon would still be out. He wasn’t.

‘You shop too fast,’ she said as she downed her numerous shopping bags, opened the coat cupboard and slipped out of her high heels and into her flats. He’d taken his jacket off and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

If a sexier version of manhood existed, Ruby hadn’t seen it.

‘Dare I suggest that you shop too much?’ he countered as he closed the door behind her and picked up the shopping bags.

Now she’d seen it.

‘I smell food,’ he said.

‘It’s crispy duck. I was going to put it in the fridge for later.’

‘Ruby, you spoil me.’ Damon’s grin became boyishly delighted.

‘It’s Christmas.’

‘It’s great.’

Ruby watched as Damon set the bags down next to the bench and found the one with his favourite food in it. Man and his stomach. Always the same, no matter what his pay grade. ‘It’s still hot,’ he said.

‘The restaurant’s only a block away. If you like the food I’ll give you their number.’ Ruby started on the unpacking. The sooner she did her job, the sooner she could leave. Leaving was preferable to being around Damon. Damon called forth feelings she didn’t want any part of. Starting with desire for a man who kept far too many secrets. ‘Pretend I’m not here,’ she told him.

‘But you are here.’

‘Then think of me as the hired help.’

‘Of course.’ He gestured towards the takeaway containers he’d lined up on the counter. ‘Want some?’

Ruby rolled her eyes and kept right on unpacking. Fruit for the fruit bowl by way of a water rinse. She found the colander and started washing grapes. A grape escaped her and rolled across the counter towards him. He stopped it, ate it, and Ruby’s gaze slid helplessly to his lips. Not good.

‘Does my father treat you like an employee?’ he murmured. ‘Why wouldn’t he?’ ‘Just curious.’

‘Whatever you’re thinking just say it,’ she said darkly.

‘I was thinking that I can see now why plenty of people wouldn’t want to employ you. If there were women around you’d outclass them. Husbands around and you’d captivate them. Furthermore, I’m willing to bet that my father treats you more like a daughter than an employee.’

‘I think it’s because he met me a couple of times as a child. I’m trying to break him of the habit.’

‘There it is,’ he said softly. ‘The reason you’ll never make a good underling. You’re too regal. Taking charge comes as automatically to you as breathing.’

‘So?’ For some reason his words wounded her.

‘It’s not a criticism, Ruby. I’m just saying that asking me to treat you like the hired help is all well and good but it’s never going to happen. You’re Ruby Maguire; part princess, part seasoned survivor when it comes to the whims of the wealthy, and you know it. What’s more, I know it. We’re just going to have to come up with some other way of dealing with each other.’

‘Are we having another serious conversation?’ she demanded suspiciously. ‘Because, I still remember how well the last one worked out for us.’

‘You think we should stick to banter? Flirting without intent?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s the perfect solution. Easy as breathing, for both of us—no character assassination intended.’

‘None taken,’ he said dryly. ‘Flirting is comfortable.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Predictable.’ He seemed to be looking for a catch.

‘I’m sure we can make it so.’

‘Safe,’ he said, watching her closely.

‘Possibly a new experience for the mysterious Damon West, but yes,’ she said airily. ‘Flirting with me is comfortable, predictable, easy and safe.’

‘Right.’ Damon’s enthusiasm for flirting—with or without intent—appeared to be on the wane. ‘What if I fall asleep?’

‘It’s all right, Damon.’ Hard not to smile at Damon West’s thorough comprehension of self. ‘I’ll wake you before I leave.’

Ruby did leave Damon’s company eventually, and she took with her plenty of food for thought. She’d never thought of herself in the terms that Damon West had described her. Part princess, part seasoned survivor.

Yes, she knew her way around the upper echelons of society; with its games of one-upmanship and the ultimate scorecard that was money. Yes, she could relate to being a survivor. Always had been. Another lesson from her father. But she’d never thought of herself as authoritative, or a princess for that matter. She’d never considered herself a difficult woman to deal with. Recent bouts of rampant paranoia aside. She’d left Damon enjoying his meal and showing no signs of resentment towards her whatsoever, in the aftermath of her accusations and suspicions. Social disaster alleviated. Good for her. For her and Damon both, given that she’d be seeing a fair bit of him over the next few days.

The rest of Ruby’s afternoon consisted of a charity meeting on Russell’s behalf, and once she’d clocked off for the day, getting her nails done, and doing a spot of Christmas gift shopping, this time for herself. Her modest optic fibre Christmas tree had no gifts beneath it. Now it would.

Ruby let herself into her own apartment shortly after 7:30 p.m. Shoes off at the door—an old habit, drummed into her by a long-ago nanny—and a smile for the tiny half-grown cat who peered at her suspiciously from beneath the lounge chair. The kitten had been haunting the residents’ underground car park, half starved, not tough enough for the streets, and Ruby had been lonely. They’d agreed on a one-week trial. Today was the start of week three and the ribbed look had faded somewhat but the little cat’s wariness remained. ‘Evening, C.’

Such a pity cats didn’t talk back.

‘I met a man today. A man who saw straight through me, and I through him.’

The little cat regarded her gravely.

‘That’s what I thought,’ murmured Ruby as she knelt, stretched out her hand and managed to touch the little cat’s shoulder with her fingertips before he retreated. ‘Scary stuff, but we managed a respectable distance, of sorts. Eventually. Hey, I got you a present.’ Ruby dug in her grocery bag and drew out a fluffy toy mouse and set it on the floor. The cat disappeared back beneath the lounge. So much for progress.

‘All righty then. How about some food?’ Ruby headed for the galley kitchen, switching on lights with her elbow as she went. She fed the cat, set soothing music to playing and put a plate of leftover stir-fried vegetables in the microwave. She poured a glass of white wine and sipped it as she crossed to the window and stared out over the vast and bustling Victoria harbour.

This job for Russell West had only ever been a stopgap while she recovered from the blow of her father’s deception. She’d made of her duties what she could, and she would always be grateful to Russell for giving her safe haven when others had cast her aside, but it was time to move on and Damon’s observations had merely confirmed it. Domestic servitude wasn’t for her. She needed to find something else to do. Start her own business. Study a different type of law. One not associated with big business and big money. Something humanitarian.

‘What do you think, cat? Would I make a good human rights advocate?’ Sighing, Ruby pulled her headband from her hair and tossed it on the nearby table. ‘No? How about family law? Prenups. Divorce.’ Given her family history she knew plenty about both.

Damon West had thought her headband ridiculous.

Damon West had thought a lot of things about her, most of them accurate. Ruby in turn just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him.

Whether those thoughts were accurate was anyone’s guess.

‘What do you reckon he is, C? A thief?’

No answer from the little cat.

‘But then, Russell would hardly be proud of a thief. Maybe Damon’s a legitimate thief—moral ambiguity aside. Maybe he works for one of those government agencies no one’s ever heard of. Either way, we don’t want any part of him, right, Cat? We don’t like people who keep secrets. Secrets bite. You’d know all about bites, right?’

Ruby took another sip of wine, and breathed a lonely sigh. ‘You think I should have encouraged him, don’t you? Used him to get through the Christmas lonelies, and yes, he’d have been perfect for that. Then I could have handed in my notice come New Year and we’d have never had to see each other again. It could’ve worked beautifully.’

She turned to look at the little cat and the little cat looked back.

‘I disagree,’ she said solemnly and hoped like hell that her decision would stick. ‘I’m lonely; Damon’s solitary. There’s a difference.’

The little cat miaowed and Ruby nodded her agreement. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s a big difference.’

For once in his life, Damon couldn’t keep his mind on the job. He’d found his way to an internet café in Kowloon and logged on to an unsecured network somewhere in the vicinity. He had his laptop with him, the hardware he’d purchased earlier that day in place, he had need of information and he had the skill required to get it without anyone noticing. The clock said 1:00 a.m. Hong Kong time but he was wide-awake. He knew the codes, most of them anyway. All he had to do was bring up the page and start the run.

Why then, instead of doing just that, was he sitting there at the shabby, semi-private computer station obsessing over his recent encounters with one Ruby Maguire? Rewriting them in his head so that they played out the way he wanted them to play out. With him the hero and Ruby suitably awed by his air of mystery and rapier wit.

Not now, Damon. C’mon. Concentrate.

Lena had asked him to look into Jared’s whereabouts. She’d wanted to know if ASIS had Jared listed as active, which would mean he was on a job rather than off doing heaven only knew what on his own. Didn’t mean Lena suspected anything untoward. Didn’t mean Jared was neck-deep in trouble. This was just an insurance run, nothing more. To set their minds at ease.

He pulled up the website he needed, started the run and sat back and put an online gaming map up on the screen while he waited. Two minutes, he estimated. Tops.

And then the laptop beeped and Damon switched screens, noting with a frown the distinct lack of anything remotely resembling his brother’s employment file. Not good. Time to dig deeper and hope to hell he didn’t find Jared’s file down in the pit with all the other dark ponies. Swiftly, Damon cut his way further into the system, cursing inwardly as what should have been a two-minute milk-run turned into a five-minute nightmare.

Six minutes, seven minutes and way past time for Damon to be getting the hell out of the files he was sifting through and still he hadn’t found any information concerning his brother.

Nine minutes into the run and he found a file strung full of encrypted numbers. Heading the string was Jared’s employee number. It’d have to do.

Backing out of the system without a trace took Damon past the ten-minute mark—too long for comfort, with his safety margin well and truly shot.

Pack up, get out. Take the long way home. With the adrenalin blowing through his skull and every sense he owned on hyper-alert.

Minutes later, as he stepped onto the first underground train that came along, Damon West, IT engineer and specialist systems hacker ever since he’d found his way into his high school’s assessment database at the tender age of twelve, grinned.

CHAPTER THREE

DECEMBER twenty-third came hot and humid. By midafternoon there’d be a deluge, Ruby predicted. A blast from the sky to wash away the stench of the day. A deluge to avoid if at all possible, she decided as she set about ensuring that she’d stocked Russell’s apartment with everything the West family could possibly want or need over the Christmas break, including provisions for unexpected guests, should any drop in.

The rainclouds were still a long way off when Ruby phoned through to Russell’s apartment at midday to say she was on her way up but no one picked up, and Ruby breathed a mingled sigh of disappointment and relief.

No Damon, no temptation. This was a good thing.

Dry-cleaning over one arm, shopping bag full of sushi dangling from her fingertips and a gingerbread house balanced precariously on top of the dry-cleaning, Ruby elbowed her way through the doorway to the apartment and slipped off her shoes. No time to put her flats on because if she didn’t get rid of the gingerbread house soon she’d drop it and that really wouldn’t do.

‘Are you ever not carting things from one place to the next?’ asked a voice from behind her and Ruby jumped and the gingerbread house started to slide.

Damon caught it well before it hit the floor and Ruby’s thanks came thin and grudging, seeing as he was the one who’d startled her into dropping it in the first place. She turned to look at him, taking in his choice of clothing for the day—a white linen shirt that she hadn’t seen before, and well-fitting jeans that looked decidedly familiar. The clothes looked crisp and fresh. The body beneath them seemed a little rumpled. ‘I thought you were out.’

‘That was you on the phone five minutes ago?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sorry. I was asleep. By the time I’d found the phone and picked up, you’d put down.’

‘Jet lag?’ ‘Possibly.’

‘There are tonics for that.’ ‘It’s Hong Kong. There are tonics for everything.’

‘Just a suggestion,’ she murmured and started towards Russell’s rooms where his suits lived. When she returned and slid the sushi into the fridge, she found the gingerbread house on the kitchen bench and a tousle-haired Damon cracking open a fizzy drink that hadn’t entered the apartment by way of Ruby.

‘You’ve been shopping,’ she accused.

‘Guilty.’

‘If you want anything like that, let me know. That’s my department.’

‘Ruby, I’m quite capable of stepping out for half a dozen cans of cola. Consider it exercise and a change of scenery on my part.’

‘That’s really not how it works.’

‘No, that’s usually exactly how it works,’ he murmured with a crooked smile. ‘Want one?’

‘Just water, please. It’s slick out. Hopefully the icing hasn’t slid off the roof of the house.’ Ruby gave the confectionary a careful once-over but all looked well with Santa’s gingerbread cottage. ‘Are we flirting yet?’

‘Just working my way up to it,’ he said with a smiling glance in her direction. ‘It’s all in the timing.’ He looked back at the cellophane wrapped gingerbread house. ‘Anyone ever tell you that you shop too much?’

‘You’re the first. Speaking of shopping, are those the jeans we bought for you yesterday?’

Damon nodded. ‘Useful, aren’t they?’

‘There goes the Christmas present,’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps I forgot to mention the part where I wrap them up and put them under the tree?’

‘That can still be arranged,’ he said dryly.

‘It’s not the same. You’re meant to wait. Take possession on Christmas Day.’

‘It’s just another day, Ruby.’

‘Well, it is now. Take them off.’

Grinning, Damon set his drink down and reached for his fly. Ruby raised a delicate eyebrow but made no move to stop him. Eventually he stopped of his own accord.

‘You’re supposed to say “not here”,’ he said. ‘And then you blush.’

‘Not sure we’re living in the same universe, my friend.’

‘I’ll say. Good thing I’m adaptable.’ The trousers came off. He handed them to Ruby, who stripped his belt from the trousers and handed it back to him with considerable expertise.

‘And the rest of the clothes from yesterday,’ she said airily. ‘When you’re ready.’

‘Good thing we didn’t buy underwear,’ he murmured and set off up the hall, not an ounce of self-consciousness anywhere in sight. Just strong, athletic legs, broad, shirt-covered shoulders, and a hint of mighty fine buttock. Put today’s picture together with yesterday’s man-and-his-towel image, and a woman could be excused for losing her breath.

‘I know you’re looking,’ he said from halfway down the hall.

‘No, I’m not.’ But she said it with a smile, and she leaned over the counter the better to catch the show.

Only once he’d reached his room did Ruby drag her attention away from Damon West’s very fine form to study his can of cola and note the label. She’d add it to the drinks order and make sure a case of it arrived later this evening with the last of the Christmas Day fare.

When Damon returned he had the rest of the clothes they’d purchased yesterday in hand and a pair of vivid Hawaiian board shorts on person.

‘A leftover from your last stint as a pool boy?’ she queried delicately.

‘What? You don’t like them? They’re my favourite.’

‘Oh, Damon. That’s just …’ Words failed her. ‘Sad.’ She handed the new trousers back to him with a sigh. ‘Put them back on before your father sees you. He has a reputation to maintain.’

‘Ruby, you confuse me,’ he murmured, but he took hold of the trousers deftly enough and the edges of his lips signalled his satisfaction.

‘Player,’ she accused.

‘Despot.’

‘Yes, but I’m a benevolent one. How many of these clothes we bought you yesterday are you going to need to wear tomorrow?’

‘Only the shirt. And the jeans again. Maybe the jacket.’

Ruby sighed, temporarily defeated. Maybe she could shop with him in mind on the way home. Something with a V-neck and tiny little sleeves. Flared pants with spangles.

‘Would it have killed you to get two sets of clothes when we were shopping earlier?’

‘I wasn’t sure that shop was me.’

‘There were other shops.’

‘Yes, I know,’ he said with a shudder. ‘They were everywhere. But two clothes shops a year is my limit and we did them both yesterday.’

‘We need to build your stamina.’

‘I have stamina,’ he murmured. ‘It’s selective.’

‘Ah,’ she murmured. ‘Now we’re flirting.’ ‘Correct.’

Ruby’s gaze cut to Damon’s mouth. Flirting was meant to be light. Fun. Not deeply, emotionally satisfying.

Moments later those tempting lips got a great deal closer as Damon leaned towards her in much the same way as she had done the first time they’d met. Bench in between them but personal space still well and truly invaded. Her eyes moved up to meet Damon’s gaze and there was a promise there waiting for her, and a challenge if she dared to accept it.

‘Something you want from me, Ruby?’ he asked silkily.

‘Nope. Definitely not. Can’t think of anything. At all.’

‘Liar,’ he whispered softly.

‘Are you sure this is flirting without intent?’ she whispered back.

‘Now that you mention it, I may have acquired intent,’ he murmured.

‘That’s really not part of the plan.’

‘I know.’ He rocked forward until his lips brushed hers. ‘The plan was flawed. No pep.’

‘Don’t you have cola for that?’

‘It’s not enough.’

‘Is that a favourite saying of yours?’

‘It is of late.’ He touched his lips to hers again and his big body grew very still. Warm lips against her own and a bench in between them as he waited for her response.

Time seemed to stop as Ruby battled for control of her wayward reaction to Damon West. Not flirty and easy but complex and needy. So much need in her to taste the essence of this man.

Tentatively, she set the tip of her tongue to one corner of his lips and tested the seam. In. He let her in, and he tasted of sweetness and his tongue knew how to tease, drawing her deeper into passionate play, and he led and she followed, and then she led and he let her.

Lightness of touch and an homage to languor and beneath it all a deep well of scorching heat. Ruby backed out of the kiss reluctantly, before it consumed her, and Damon moaned his protest and took one last fast taste before letting her pull back.

‘God, we’d be good in bed together,’ he rumbled and turned away and headed for the fridge.

Ruby closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer. Dear God, not this one. Please, not this one, for his capacity to enchant was too high, and the likelihood of him giving much of himself seemed alarmingly low.

When Damon returned from his foray in the fridge, he had a bowl of ice cubes and a tin of caviar. The ice-bowl went between them on the counter and the caviar got upended on top of it. Next, he opened a packet of breadsticks and set it next to the rest.

‘Eat,’ he said. ‘And remind me again why you’re not going to sleep with me, apart from the fact that you work for my father, need to keep your job and consider me a habitual liar. I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t seem enough.’

Rather than answer, Ruby sampled the food on offer. A pause where pause was needed. An ice cube topped with caviar, and a cool and salty slide. She crunched down on the ice and let the textures mingle. ‘Mmm.’ Good manners prevented speech, so another mmm would have to be enough.

‘Good, isn’t it? Much like we’d be.’ Sighing, Damon picked up a breadstick, loaded it with eggs and held it to her lips. ‘The caviar usually runs out before the ice does. Say aah.’

‘Ahumm.’ The breadstick went in loaded and came out clean. A husky oath filled the air.

Damon’s.

‘Give me a reason not to, Ruby,’ and his voice came low and guttural and slid down her spine like a lover’s hand. ‘Give me a reason to back off, or I swear I’ll be inside of you before the day is through.’

Ruby swallowed hard and attempted to marshal her thoughts. ‘I work for your father,’ she said weakly.

‘Not good enough.’

‘I’ll lose my job.’

‘Says who?’

‘I don’t know you.’

‘Would you like to?’

‘Would you let me?’ Finally an objection she could follow through on. ‘Can you answer even the most casual of questions honestly?’ ‘I can try.’

‘All right. Where were you this time last week? What were you doing? Just the briefest details of your day—that’s all I’m asking for.’

She saw him shut down. Watched his eyes as he sifted back through time, closing compartments as he went. Not that. Not that. Can’t tell her that; and his reasons for not telling her were his own. He didn’t even offer up an excuse.

‘Okay, different question,’ she said. ‘Where will you be in a week’s time? Snapshot that day.’

But he couldn’t seem to do that either. ‘Most people would be able to answer those questions, Damon,’ she said quietly. ‘But then, you’re not most people, are you? I may have been wrong about you being after my father, but I wasn’t wrong about the rest of it. About the way you keep the details of your life to yourself. About there being so much of you that you cannot, or will not, share. Not with strangers. Not with anyone.’ Finally he swore. One word.

Not something they’d be doing anytime soon.

‘Glad we cleared that up,’ she said carefully, no flirting in her now, just a pitiful and aching need for something that had never been on offer. ‘I need honesty from a lover, Damon. I need to taste the truth in you, even if all we’d be doing is having mindless, no-strings-attached sex. It’s a requirement of mine.’ She dredged up a smile from somewhere.

‘Make an exception,’ he cajoled gruffly. ‘For me.’ Nothing like the penetrating gaze of a powerfully persuasive man to make a woman’s mind waver. ‘I hear what you’re saying, Ruby. I swear I will not lie to you. Ever. I’ll just …’

‘Not answer,’ she finished for him softly. ‘I know how it works, Damon. And for what it’s worth you tempt me. So much. But what you’re offering … it’s not enough.’

Damon stayed broodingly silent.

‘I should go,’ she said awkwardly, and then as reality intruded, ‘I need to do the birds first.’