Flirting With Intent (4 page)

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.

D
ECEMBER
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.