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‘Of course not,’ Ruiz argued.
‘You don’t think the readers will grow bored now they know the outcome?’ Holly said, frowning.
‘I’m disappointed in you, Holly. What has happened to that imagination of yours? There should be at least three spin-offs from this piece of news.’
Would that be the engagement, the wedding, followed swiftly by the first baby? Holly wondered.
Ruiz swiftly disillusioned her. ‘Cleaning his tack, ironing his shirts, and cooking the playboy’s meals should do it.’
‘You mentioned dancing?’ she said as he helped her to dismount.
‘Yes. We’re having a party at the estancia this evening.’
Holly hummed. ‘I’d watch your toes if I were you.’
* * *
The Christmas Eve celebration was being held in the main courtyard and, dressed in jeans with her hair piled up high, Holly had pitched in with the staff to help them dress the walls and balustrades with garlands of flowers to augment the colourful blossom in the garden. The cobbled area was lit by candlelight and torches held in high brackets on the walls, and there was a full moon that cast a spotlight on the glittering fountains. The band was already playing sexy South American music and there were professional dancers on hand to demonstrate the various styles of dance to the guests, as well as enough food and wine to feed an army. The banquet had been set out on trestle tables dressed with crisp white linen, boasting silver cutlery and twinkling crystal. Holly was just about to go and get changed when the biggest surprise of the night waylaid her. Lucia had arrived under cover of darkness to surprise her brothers. The two girls had been in touch by e-mail in order to spring a few more surprises before the night was out.
‘It’s just like the old days at school,’ Lucia commented, handing over Holly’s Christmas present. ‘All this subterfuge, with the added amazingness of you and my brother falling in love—’ Lucia broke off to give Holly the biggest hug ever. ‘Come on, sister-to-be, let’s go and get changed. You can hardly arrive at the party wearing jeans.’
The outfit Lucia had chosen for Holly was spectacular. The slinky dress in vivid red had a low vee neck and the highest of high hemlines. Lucia had also chosen a pair of silver sandals with stratospheric heels to wear with it.
‘You look fabulous,’ Lucia exclaimed when they had sneaked into Holly’s bedroom and locked the door securely behind them. ‘Now get those sandals on,’ she prompted. ‘If Ruiz loved you before, his tongue will be sweeping the floor when he sees you wearing this …’
‘I’d rather Ruiz kept his tongue in his mouth,’ Holly remarked dryly, turning her head to examine her back view in the full-length mirror.
‘The answer is no,’ Lucia assured her. ‘It doesn’t look big. It looks perfect. You look perfect.’
‘And you shouldn’t be spending so much money on me.’
‘And you weren’t supposed to pay me any rent,’ Lucia countered. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw the amount you put into my bank account.’
‘The column is going well.’
‘That doesn’t matter. Whoever gave you my bank details is so dead!’
‘Take the money. I can afford to pay you the going rate,’ Holly reminded her best friend. And didn’t that feel good. ‘You look pretty fabulous for a change,’ she added wryly, staring with renewed interest at her beautiful friend. ‘What’s the special occasion, Lucia?’
‘Only pretty fabulous?’ Lucia said worriedly, examining her back view in the same mirror.
‘You know you look as gorgeous as you always do,’ Holly volunteered. ‘But you still haven’t told me what the special occasion is …’
‘Why does it have to be special? It’s just a family party.’
‘And you are making a very special effort,’ Holly noted as Lucia checked her make-up in the mirror.
‘Okay, so I hear Nero Caracas is bringing his polo team as well as his new wife and baby tonight,’ Lucia explained off-handedly. ‘Which means Luke Forster, that American polo player, will be at the party. Don’t look like that, Holly. Luke’s far too stern and serious for me. And he’s about ten feet tall.’
‘Poor man,’ Holly murmured, remembering she had seen the good-looking American commanding the field of play quite a few times during the game.
‘But I might enjoy teasing him,’ Lucia added thoughtfully as she arranged her ample breasts in the low-cut dress.
‘Excellent news for Luke,’ Holly agreed tongue in cheek. ‘So are you ready to spring our surprise?’
* * *
Ruiz, meanwhile, was pacing up and down his bedroom with the phone gripped so tightly in his hand it was threatening to break apart. ‘What do you mean you couldn’t arrange it? I told you well in advance what I wanted. Plus there’s an agreement between our two countries so there shouldn’t have been a problem. What has happened to the vet? How can he have left on another flight when I booked him? I booked the jet, damn it!’ Ruiz thundered. ‘Who the hell countermanded my order?’ Ruiz whirled around as one of his brothers poked his head round the door. He waved him away. Business was all-important, and when it was business concerning Holly nothing came before that.
‘Are you coming to the party, Ruiz?’ his brother Diego asked him, refusing to be so easily dismissed.
‘When I’m ready,’ he snapped.
‘Would you like me to look after Holly for you?’
His answer to that was to lob a polo ball at the door, which his brother dodged. ‘Only asking,’ Diego murmured, closing the door.
So his surprise for Holly was ruined, Ruiz raged inwardly. Lucky for him the jeweller in Buenos Aires hadn’t let him down. Checking the breast pocket of his jacket, he decided he’d better go down to the party, but he was nowhere near ready to give up on his other surprise for her yet.
* * *
Holly and Lucia had barely walked into the party when three of the Acosta brothers spotted their sister and came straight over. Their reunion was touching and Holly envied their closeness. This wasn’t the constant squabbling and petty jealousies Lucia had described at school. It was the deep and abiding affection of people who knew everything there was to know about each other, and made Holly long for her own family.
With all the constant squabbling and petty jealousies that might involve, she thought with amusement as Lucia batted the most formidable of her brothers, Nacho, on the head with her frivolous party purse. ‘How dare you summon me back like an employee, you great oaf? And what have you done with Ruiz?’ Lucia demanded, swinging round. ‘Holly has a special surprise for him and he’s not even here. Don’t tell me you’ve sent him back to London to work?’
Nacho huffed dismissively. ‘I can’t tell your brother Ruiz what to do.’
‘Quite right,’ Lucia agreed dryly. ‘Ruiz is too busy telling me what to do.’
As Lucia kissed each of her brothers in turn Holly grew increasingly anxious. Was her surprise for Ruiz going to fall flat?
‘Last time I saw Ruiz he was pacing his bedroom like a bear with a sore head,’ Ruiz’s brother Diego murmured discreetly in her ear. ‘I’d give him a few minutes.’
‘Thank you.’ Holly smiled her thanks.
As the darkly glamorous men peeled away to welcome their guests other men were drawn like moths to the two girls standing on the edge of the dance floor. Holly was quite relieved to see the driver who had brought her from the airport amongst them. He bowed so politely over her hand she was only too delighted to accept. He was fun, she remembered, as her portly partner chuffed his moustache before leading her onto the dance floor. The dress Lucia had given her was really working its magic, Holly thought as she started dancing. She had never worn such a beautiful party dress before. She glanced gratefully at Lucia, noticing with amusement that Lucia had just walked straight up to the attractive American polo player, Luke Forster, only to veer away at the very last moment on the pretext of tugging one of her brothers onto the dance floor. It was also interesting to see Luke Forster’s brooding amber gaze following Lucia as she sashayed off.
Holly had only been dancing with the driver for a few minutes when another man tapped the driver’s shoulder and cut in. This man spoke no English, but he danced well and held Holly at arm’s length so their bodies always had air between them. She was really enjoying herself, though still worrying about Ruiz and wondering where he could be. And then a younger man, who had clearly had too much to drink, decided it was his turn to take Holly on a drunken lurch around the floor. Unfortunately his grip was so secure she couldn’t break free, and now Lucia was making frantic signals from the edge of the dance floor. Like a drama slowly unfolding that no one could stop, Holly saw Ruiz emerge from the house and stand at the top of the steps to scan the dance floor. The young man who had Holly in his grip decided that this was the perfect moment to launch his assault. Wet lips pursed, he darted his head forward, and as she whipped her head away to avoid him a big black shape launched itself on Holly and her partner, barking wildly as it knocked them to the floor.
‘Bouncer?’ Holly exclaimed, wiping muddy paw marks from her arm. She looked up to find Ruiz dressed in full evening rig standing over her. He looked more magnificent and formidable than she’d ever seen.
‘No harm done,’ Ruiz said in a tone Holly had never heard him use before as he brushed the man’s suit down and called for one of the gauchos to escort him away. ‘How the hell did Bouncer get here?’ he demanded with frustration.
‘Please don’t be angry with Holly,’ Lucia begged him, hanging onto her brother’s arm.
Easing himself free, Ruiz took hold of Holly. ‘Well?’ he murmured.
Their faces were very close. Ruiz’s mouth was almost touching hers. Everyone at the party was frozen to the spot, sensing drama. There was no music, no chatter, not a sound to be heard—until Bouncer whimpered and both Holly and Ruiz knelt simultaneously on the ground to make a fuss of him. As if this were the signal everyone had been waiting for the music started up again and the dance floor came back to life.
‘Happy Christmas, Ruiz,’ Holly murmured, staring across Bouncer’s head into Ruiz’s eyes. ‘I think Bouncer had this planned from the first moment we met, though Lucia brought him over in the private jet with the vet,’ she explained, ‘and as Bouncer has had all his shots and has a pet passport and Argentina has the same arrangement for allowing pets to travel as the EU …’
‘This I know,’ Ruiz assured Holly, softly holding her within an inch of his mouth as he lifted her to her feet. ‘I do deal quite a lot with the authorities in both countries, you know? Shipping ponies?’ Ruiz’s lips tugged in his trademark smile. ‘I tried to bring Bouncer over to surprise you for Christmas too, but it appears you beat me to it.’
His brothers, hearing this, congratulated Holly.
‘Nice to know someone can get the better of you, Ruiz,’ the great Nacho Acosta commented dryly before moving away to ensure the party didn’t flag.
‘I thought it would be better for Bouncer to live here on the pampas than in London,’ Holly admitted. ‘Your brothers agreed. But then I hesitated until Nacho said you had mentioned the same thing to him.’
‘Nacho agreed to Bouncer coming to live here?” Ruiz demanded with surprise.
‘He did more than that. Nacho arranged the jet,’ Holly explained. ‘He said it was a long journey for a rescue dog to take unaccompanied, but with Lucia and a vet on hand he thought it might be possible.’
‘Dios!’ Ruiz glanced at his brother who raised a glass.
‘Are you pleased with your surprise?’ Holly asked anxiously.
‘I couldn’t be more pleased,’ Ruiz said, holding Holly a little closer as the dance floor filled up. ‘But you’ve left me without the possibility of giving you a surprise.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe we’ve exhausted your repertoire yet …’
Ruiz’s wicked mouth tugged in a grin. ‘So you don’t need a surprise right here, right now?’
‘In front of all these people? Absolutely not,’ Holly murmured.
‘What am I going to do with this, then?’
She stared at the small jewel box. ‘What is it?’
‘The next headline for your column,’ Ruiz said dryly.
‘If that’s what I think it is.’
‘It is,’ Ruiz murmured, ‘but I think you’d better get out of that dress first.’
Holly sucked in a breath, remembering only now that her dress was ruined and covered in mud.
‘We have very good dry cleaners in Argentina,’ Ruiz reassured her, slipping the jewel case back into his pocket.
‘But I couldn’t possibly let you pay the bill …’
Their faces were very close as both of them relived a day in London that seemed such a long time ago now.
‘Shower?’ Ruiz murmured with a very particular look in his eyes.
‘As soon as possible,’ Holly agreed.
‘Ruiz and Holly. I like the sound of that,’ Ruiz commented as they strolled back to the house together arm in arm.
‘Holly and Ruiz,’ Holly corrected him.
‘I’ll go for that,’ Ruiz conceded. It was an easy victory for Holly. He was just quietly celebrating that the world and everything in it was his now, while Bouncer, who was safely back in Lucia’s keeping, barked his satisfaction at a job well done.
* * *
‘So what do you think, Holly?’ Ruiz demanded as Holly stared in thrilled delight at the huge ruby on her wedding finger.
‘I think you’re a very dangerous man,’ she said as Ruiz moved behind her.
‘Have you only just noticed that?’ Ruiz murmured against her neck.
As she turned in his arms Ruiz’s gaze slipped to her lips. ‘Stop it,’ she warned him softly as he whispered a world of wickedness in her ear.
‘No one will notice if we don’t return to the party right away …’
Ruiz had a point. He also had a formidable erection. And as they were both standing naked beneath the shower she thought it rude not to seize the moment.
It’s big and red and fits me perfectly. Rubies are the perfect choice for a fiery redhead, Ruiz told me. You can know his name now, seeing as the playboy and the redhead are going to be headline news in the next issue of this magazine—front cover too.
And the column?
This column will continue, for, as my polo-playing bad boy points out, I can send copy to ROCK! from anywhere in the world, and there should be plenty more headlines to come—especially as Ruiz has three gorgeous brothers and a baby sister, my best friend, Lucia. You can read all about them here—The Good, The Bad, and The—
Well, not ugly, since all of them are stunningly glamorous, lead the most riotous lives, and are the best fun to be around. You’ll have to stay tuned to find out.
Hasta la vista! Here’s to the next time we meet.
The Argentinian’s Solace
Susan Stephens
CHAPTER ONE
SHE had to close her mind to the man on the shore. Getting the old boat safely into its berth was more important. But he was like an elemental force, his gaze fixed and unswerving, with the most magnificent physique Maxie had ever seen. Tall, ripped and tanned, with wild black hair and dangerous eyes. A gold earring glinted in what light there was. Low-slung jeans over a flat, muscular belly were enough to throw anyone off course…
So think of the snarling face that would stop a rhino in its track and your concentration will come flooding back.
She had sailed the boat this far and she wasn’t turning back now.
Bringing the trawler through mountainous waves single-handed had been nothing short of a miracle. They had barely made it out of the harbour when the skipper had declared himself out of action after consuming the greater part of a bottle of Scotland’s finest. Maxie would be the first to admit her qualifications for sailing a boat this size were slim. She had once helped to crew a sixty-eight footer, but this old rust-bucket was proving rather more cantankerous. And she was more than a bit rusty, Maxie accepted as the deck lurched beneath her feet.
Glancing at the man on the dock, she guessed he was waiting for her to fail. His massive forearms were crossed over his formidable chest, and his black eyes blazed with mockery and scorn.
‘Welcome to Isla del Fuego,’ Maxie muttered beneath her breath. But, however unfriendly the welcoming committee, she was going to berth this bucketing monster if it killed her!
Which it probably would, Maxie registered with panic as the ancient fishing craft crashed into the dock.
With relief she saw the elderly skipper had made it out of his bunk in time to take the wheel. Boiling black storm clouds suggested the weather wasn’t about to change any time soon, which for a wedding planner on a scouting trip for an excited bride was somewhere south of perfect. And if the man onshore worked for the Acostas, who owned the island, he would need some serious retraining in the art of welcoming guests before the wedding, Maxie concluded, trying not to look at his glowering face.
She could always tell Holly the island was unsuitable…
The idea flitted across her mind, but it wasn’t an option. She’d seen Scottish castles in worse settings transformed into fairytale palaces on a warm spring day, and damp French châteaux revealed in all their ancient glory when the sun shone. Plus, she trusted Holly. The bride was a smart girl, and June was a famously fabulous month in which to get married. Bottom line? If Holly wanted to get married on Isla del Fuego then it was up to Maxie to make it happen and the man on shore would just have to suck it up.
* * *
Dios! What had the storm washed in? Some pin-thin, drooping violet with—
With a very accurate and surprisingly powerful throw, Diego conceded as he caught the rope the girl tossed him. But she had no business sailing Fernando’s fishing boat—let alone slamming into the dock, thanks to her poor reading of the weather. She was lucky to be alive after sailing to the island in a storm.
‘Are you ready?’ she called, preparing to toss a second rope.
With his stiff leg he could only move at half her speed. The second she turned her back he limped as fast as he could to get into position before she could see him lurching like a drunk.
‘Here it comes,’ she warned him, in a voice that was both light and musical, yet which somehow crested the howl of the wind.
Catching the rope, he secured it. It appeared fate had a sense of humour, sending an attractive girl to the island when he could least handle the action. Resentment swept over him as he watched her darting nimbly about the deck. When his brother’s fiancée had called to warn him the wedding planner was on her way he had accepted his self-imposed exile was over, but to have some lithe young girl call time was insulting. He had come down to the dock to meet the principal of the events company—someone older and sophisticated, with a keen sense of style—not some kid in jeans and a hooded top with long dark hair hanging in sodden straggles down her back. Was his brother’s wedding of so little importance they’d sent some underling?
‘Well caught!’ she yelled, having fired another rope at him.
Well caught? There had been a time when nothing physical had been beyond him, but then his horse had rolled on him during a polo match, shattering the bones in his leg. It had been pinned in half a dozen places. He had been back on a horse and training rigorously, but it was more than a year since the accident and he had yet to regain the subtleties of sensation required for the top class game, leaving his future in polo uncertain.
‘No harm done,’ the girl yelled as she leaned over the rail to check the hull for damage.
‘It could have been a costly mistake,’ he roared back. ‘You’ve been lucky this time.’
‘Lucky?’ She laughed.
He felt a surge of interest, but in his current state that was soon snuffed out. She could take a look around the island and report back to Holly, but the moment the wind dropped she was history.
* * *
No one had said planning a wedding on a remote island would be easy, Maxie reasoned, dashing spray out of her eyes. And time was of the essence, the bride had insisted. No wonder, Maxie had thought when she’d seen a photo of the groom. She had always known organising a high-profile event on a tiny island would be fraught with difficulties, but she hadn’t bargained on being met by a man who made her heart beat nineteen to the dozen. She had always loved a challenge, but as a scholarship girl at an upscale school, with a home life that could best be described as chaotic, she’d made a choice early in life to remain safe on the outside looking in while other people enjoyed the arrangements she made for them.
Safe? Pulling back from the rail, she took a few steadying breaths before preparing to disembark. Nothing was safe here—especially the hard-eyed man on shore.
‘Watch your step,’ he barked as she started her perilous crossing of the narrow plank.
‘I will,’ she called back tensely, wondering why he didn’t come to help her if he was so concerned.
Oh, stop fussing. She could manage. She was fine. This commission was every wedding planner’s dream, and she had no intention of starting out by falling in the sea. A big society wedding between Ruiz Acosta, a fabulously wealthy Argentinian polo player, and Holly Valiant, a celebrity agony aunt who had made her name by writing a column based on living with Ruiz, would have readers hanging on Holly’s every word. Having tamed the playboy, Holly was about to marry him—and the world was waiting with bated breath to see the wedding. A wedding Maxie was going to arrange. It was a commission that would take her business to the next level, and as her income supported everything she cared about this trip was going to be a success.
The man onshore had turned his attention to the skipper. Maxie had the basics of Spanish, but she fell short where colloquialisms were concerned. ‘Is he offering to help us?’ she called out.
‘Something like that,’ the elderly skipper admitted sheepishly.
I bet, she thought, hoping Señor Acosta would have more charm. She stared at him again and quickly looked away. There was something in the man’s eyes that said he had the sort of experience no woman with any sense would choose to get close to. And Maxie had plenty of sense. Though she was lousy at relationships, Maxie conceded with a shrug. Her ideal date was a civilised chat in a civilised restaurant with a civilised man—not a walk on the wild side with a barbarian with an earring and tattoos. She couldn’t deny the man’s edgy good looks had stirred something inside her, but he was food for her fantasies and nothing more.
‘Are you from the bridal agency?’ he demanded in a deep, husky voice.
‘That’s right,’ she confirmed, halfway across the sloping plank. ‘Could you give me a hand?’ She had stopped in the middle of the plank, uncomfortably aware of the turbulent water churning greedily beneath her feet. If he’d grab her suitcase she could hold the guide ropes with both hands.
‘Try walking tall,’ he suggested. ‘Look where you’re going instead of looking down…’
Thanks very much. She’d take her chances with the fishes. But when he turned his irritation on the skipper she’d had enough. ‘If you have anything to say, you can say it to me,’ she insisted in Spanish. ‘I chartered the boat, and I made the decision to sail to the island.’
His gaze darkened. ‘You speak our language?’
‘I would have recognised your tone of voice if you’d been speaking in Ket…a language spoken only in Central Siberia,’ she muttered to herself—but he heard her.
‘If you’re so clever you should have more sense than to persuade an old man to bring you out to the island in a storm.’
Addressing his next words to Fernando, he spoke in a very different tone. ‘You look chilled to the bone, Fernando. You will stay in the guesthouse until the wind drops. I’ll have Maria come over with hot food and clean linen for you.’