In receipt of that crack, Suzy felt the hot colour of embarrassment flood her cheeks. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘No, it was refreshing. One minute you were in place and the next you were upside down on the other side of the room,’ Ruy pointed out with amusement. ‘I won’t get bored with you in the studio.’
Dinner was followed by the arrival of the jeweller complete with a security guard. Trays of rings were set out on the coffee table and Ruy closed a hand over hers and tugged her down beside him. ‘Choose,’ he urged calmly.
All Suzy could see was a crazy bank of glittering jewels. ‘No, you choose.’
‘Suzy,’ Ruy murmured with the faintest emphasis.
The heat of a long thigh was against hers, warming her entire body and tugging at that insistent ache that stirred in her pelvis whenever she got too close to Ruy. It made her want to melt into him, over him, any way she could, but she resisted the urge to leap away, reminding herself that this was supposed to be a joyful occasion for a couple and that in a sense she was on stage and expected to act her part. She reached for a solitaire ring in the very centre.
‘A most discerning choice,’ the jeweller told her, practically purring at that selection, which implied to her that it was a very, very costly ring. ‘The rarest of diamonds, a beautiful blue.’
‘Perfect,’ Ruy said, reaching for her trembling hand to thread it onto her finger, where it proved to be a little loose.
‘Are you sure you like it?’ Suzy prompted with anxious eyes.
‘It’s yours.’
Her finger was measured. The ring, she was assured, would be with them the next day. The jeweller and his guard departed.
‘The ring will be yours to keep,’ Ruy informed her.
Suzy froze in astonishment in receipt of that assurance, angry resentment flaring inside her. ‘No, you are doing it again—stop trying to buy me, bribe me, whatever you want to call it! I don’t want that! I don’t want you believing that you’re paying me for any of this, but you don’t listen, do you? Look, I have to collect my cases at home. I’ll call Dad to pick me up and I’ll go now, spend the night there,’ she completed doggedly.
Ruy stilled in front of her, so tall, so dark, so devastatingly handsome, her senses hummed that close to him. ‘Stay...’
And it disturbed her that she knew he didn’t want her to leave and that on some very basic level she was equally reluctant to move any great distance from him. Feeling that way was foolish and would hurt her, she told herself firmly. Was she planning to turn into some sort of clingy woman? That wasn’t her, would never be her. She was sailing too close to the wind, risking her emotions for a guy who had no serious intentions whatsoever towards her. She was forgettable, disposable as far as Ruy was concerned. He had not once referred to their fleeting encounter beyond quickly assuring her that he did not expect her to continue that intimacy. How often did a guy turn his back on the chance of sex?
A guy that wasn’t that keen, her brain told her bluntly, but then why was he so reluctant to let her leave his house? It was simple: Ruy wanted her to be on the spot and immediately available when the desire to sketch assailed him. Convenience meant everything to Ruy, who seemed to have a terminal objection to having to wait for anything.
‘I’ll run you back home,’ Ruy volunteered when she said nothing.
Suzy breathed in deep and slow to ease her constricted lungs, knowing that she needed a little space to figure out why she felt so tied to Ruy. Because he had been around to save her when she was terrified? Because he had advised and supported her and made her feel safe? Was her brain, were her very emotions, really that basic? Or was she catching feelings for a man who would never catch them back?
She sat up late with her father and then went through her cases, discarding anything that seemed superfluous. Her father took her back to Ruy’s the next morning and by then the wedding dress and her outfits had arrived and she went straight upstairs to try everything on. She walked downstairs in the feathered dress and Ruy sprang off the sofa where he was using a laptop and stared at her. In the gown, her fiery curls tumbling round her shoulders, she was a vision, a distinctly beautiful vision, not at all what he had originally planned.
‘Do you still want me to dirty it up a bit?’ Suzy enquired doubtfully.
‘No, that idea won’t work with that gown,’ Ruy conceded. ‘You could end up looking like a bedraggled bird after a rainstorm.’
Suzy giggled. ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘I’ll come up with something else.’
‘From that non-existent fertile imagination of yours,’ Suzy teased absently.
Ruy merely quirked a brow. He would still paint her in the gown, but he would also paint her in her own clothes, immortalising those lovely delicate features of hers, the glow of her translucent skin and the grace of her. ‘Let’s do some work now,’ he suggested with renewed enthusiasm.
The following day, Suzy rose early. She put on capri pants and a silky tee teamed with a short boxy jacket, aimed at giving her a more finished look. Her very high-heeled red sandals necessitated a slow descent of the stairs. She was surprised to see Ruy already downstairs, sheathed in a dark business suit that just screamed personal tailoring and expense. It fit him like a glove, accentuating his broad shoulders, narrow waist and long powerful legs.
‘You’re very formal,’ she remarked, sitting down for breakfast.
‘I like the pompoms on the shoes,’ Ruy replied, evading that comment as he passed her a ring box. ‘Very different.’
Suzy opened the box, removed the ring and slid it onto her finger without ceremony before eating with appetite. She had only been abroad once and that had been a trip to Greece with a school friend’s family the summer that she was sixteen. She was excited about visiting Spain, her late mother’s birth place, but striving to act mature and hide the fact. When her cases had been carted away and she walked out of the house to see a limousine awaiting them, she was startled.
‘Is this what you call travelling in style?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Which airport are we heading for?’
‘I use a private airfield nearby. It’s not far and it’ll speed up our journey.’
A private airfield? How did that work? Reluctant to betray her ignorance, Suzy said nothing while wondering if he knew someone who had offered them flights on his plane.
They drew up at the office at the airfield. Ruy requested her passport and it was handed out of the limo to the man who emerged from the office. Suzy idly appraised the sleek white jet parked on the runway nearby. It bore a V logo and the Spanish flag on its tail.