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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 wasneeded. 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.