Why Resist a Rebel? (11 page)

The back of the house was a modern extension, with the veranda opening out into a deck with views to the mountains—not that Ruby paid any attention to it. Instead she zeroed into a flash of pale colour—curtains that were flapping through a small gap in the sliding doors. It was only a small gap—did that mean Dev hadn’t closed it properly when he’d left? Or when he’d returned?

Ruby hoped like heck it was the latter, because he certainly wasn’t on set—her phone had remained silent—so if he wasn’t in the house she had no idea where on earth to look for him next.

She had to push the door open to create a space large enough to walk through. She stepped through the curtain, pausing a moment to untangle herself from the heavy fabric. Inside it was dark—gloomy despite the sunny day outside. And silent—completely silent.

For the first time it occurred to Ruby that maybe Dev hadn’t simply slept in. She’d immediately assumed he was lounging about, deciding he had more important things to do than—you know—his job.

‘Dev?’ she called out. Or meant to. Instead she managed little more than a whisper.

She cleared her throat, and tried again. ‘Dev?’

Again—silence. This shouldn’t be surprising given the noise she and Graeme had been making was infinitely louder, and had certainly elicited no response.

But still, only now did Ruby worry.

What if the rumours were true?

She knew many celebrities kept their addictions well hidden—many more did not—but Dev... She just couldn’t believe it. She’d spent a night with him—surely she would’ve guessed?

She stood in the lounge room, and it was clearly empty. The hallway beckoned, and she broke into a run, throwing open doors as she went.

Bedroom—empty.

Study—empty

What would she know, or could she know, really, about Dev?

She thought of his gaunt frame, the sometimes emptiness in his gaze. Not all the time, and certainly not when he’d been looking straight at her—but there’d been moments when there’d been depth and flickers of so much...

No. She needed to stop that, needed to stop imagining things that weren’t there. Romanticising no more than a forgettable collection of moments in time.

And she would forget them, eventually.

Right now she needed to focus—on her job, why she was here. She needed to find Dev and get him on set.

Her phone trilled its message notification, but she didn’t bother to check. She knew what it was—Paul. Wanting to know where she was, and why she wasn’t on set with Dev already. Five minutes ago, even.

Another room—a larger space, a sitting room. Also empty.

The next—a bedroom.

Occupied.

The door creaked on old hinges as she flung it all the way open, and rattled a vase on a side table when it smacked against the wall.

Then she was at the bed, kneeling on the soft mattress as she reached across the wide expanse to grab onto a bare male shoulder. And shake it—hard.

‘Dev! Wake up.’

A sheet was twisted around his legs, and his skin was covered in goose pimples in the freezing room, the air-conditioning unit on the wall bizarrely turned on high.

She shook him again. ‘Damn it, Dev!’

Her heart raced, her breath caught in her throat.

Then all of a sudden he moved, rolling effortlessly onto his back, his eyes opening slowly.

Ruby let out her breath in a huge sigh of relief, dropping her hands onto her knees. For a minute or so she just took deep breaths, staring down at her own hands as they gripped her jeans.

‘You scared me half to death,’ she eventually managed.

He reached up, rubbing at his eyes, his movements deliberate and heavy. He turned his head on the pillow to look at her, his lips tipping up into a smile.

‘Good morning,’ he said, all husky and unbelievably sexy.

‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘It is
not
a good morning, Mr Cooper. You’re late.’

He blinked, obviously confused. Rather than reply, he reached for her, his fingers grazing along the denim covering her thigh.

‘Come here,’ he said.

She scooted back, but probably not as fast as she should. He grabbed her hand before she slid off the bed, tugging her towards him with a strength she hadn’t expected. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t resist.

Somehow she was right up beside him, leaning over him, her legs pressed up against the bare skin of his waist, and his hip where his tracksuit bottoms had slid down just a little.

She looked down at him, at his incredibly handsome face—even in the gloom and with pillow creases on one cheek—and forgot what she’d been about to say.

He still held her hand, clasped on top of her legs, and a finger traced hypnotic patterns across the delicate bones beneath her knuckles.

His other hand reached across his body, to touch her other arm where it hung uselessly beside her—neither touching him nor pushing him away. His touch slid upwards, feather light, following the shape of her wrist, her forearm, her elbow, then jumping across, and around her, to her back. And then—he pulled her against him.

She gasped as she fell, landing across his chest. He was warm now, hot, in fact, and her body was fast catching up as his hands travelled across her back.

Ruby looked directly into his eyes, eyes that were anything but empty. A gaze that she found compelled her, questioned her, wanted her.

So she leant towards him, towards all that, then closer, closer, their kiss mere millimetres, mere milliseconds away...

And then she was gone—off the bed and metres away, her back to him as she took deep, deep, what-the-hell-am-I-doing? breaths.

She shouldn’t be doing this. No. She
couldn’t.

Then behind her, he laughed. A low, unexpected sound that reverberated all the way down to her toes.

She spun around, her nails digging into her palms as her hands formed into furious fists. ‘What’s so funny?’

He’d sat up, his shoulders propped against the wrought-iron bed head. His gaze flicked over her, from her long boots and jeans up to her layers of vests and thin wool jumpers to keep her warm in the cool spring air.

‘You,’ he said. ‘This. What
is
your problem?’

‘
My
problem?’ Ruby said, and then swallowed, trying to relocate her brain—and, while she was at it, any sense of professionalism she still possessed. ‘The only problem I have is that you were required on set—’ she pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time ‘—over an hour ago.’

For the shortest of moments his eyes flickered, and his expression shifted. He looked—surprised? Disappointed? Angry?

Then it had all disappeared to be replaced by a look she was all too familiar with—arrogance.

He tilted his head back, so it rested against the wall. Then slowly and deliberately, he turned his head towards her, every pore of his body oozing exactly how little he cared.

It was all very...
practised.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed as she met his, trying to see past this hastily erected façade, trying to figure out...
Dev,
really.

No. She didn’t have time for this.

‘I need you to get a move on, Mr Cooper. So we don’t lose the whole morning.’

He nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can see how you would need that.’

Dev didn’t move.

Ruby stepped forward, and Dev’s gaze dipped to her still-fisted fingers. ‘Exactly what do you think you’re going to do with those?’

Instantly her fingers were flat against her thighs.

‘Are you unwell, Mr Cooper?’

He shook his head. ‘I think you’re quite aware how healthy I am.’

Ruby’s cheeks went hot, but she pushed on, now right beside the edge of the bed. ‘Then I really need you to get out of bed immediately. A lot of people are waiting for you.’

He shrugged. Then he looked pointedly at her hands—again fisted. But this time she made no move to relax them. Much more of this and she might well
actually
hit him.

‘Mr Cooper. I’m sure you’re aware of your contractual obligations.’

‘Of course,’ he said, with a nod. But then did not elaborate further.

Ruby swallowed a sigh. He knew the deal—this far into filming and with Arizona due to leave the country, there was
no way
that Paul could replace Dev. Besides, it wasn’t as if there were a bevy of other A-list actors banging down the producer’s door.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Let’s get to the point. I want you on set as soon as possible. You—for reasons unknown—have chosen to stay in bed today. And—inexplicably—despite the dozens of people relying on the success of this film, wish to stay here.’

‘I’d agree with that assessment.’ His voice was as dry as dust, his expression patently unmoved.

‘So tell me,’ she said, making absolutely no attempt to sound professional any more, ‘what exactly do I need to do to get you out of this room?’

At this, he smiled. A real smile—a delicious smile. A smile that moved the heat still in her cheeks to somewhere low in her belly. It was a visceral reaction she couldn’t have prevented if she tried.

And Ruby had the sudden realisation that this was where Dev had been heading the whole time. To this question.

‘A favour,’ he said.

He’d locked his gaze to hers. A gaze she didn’t have a hope of interpreting.

Why did she even bother? Hadn’t she decided he was just an actor, portraying whatever emotion or personality that would get what he wanted out of a situation?

‘What type of favour exactly?’

Another shrug. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

She gaped at him. ‘You don’t seriously expect me to agree to that?’

He didn’t say a word, just looked at her. Then, after a while, slid down along the mattress until his head hit the pillow. Then, as calmly as you liked, turned onto his side. His back to her.

Ruby’s mind raced, considering her options.

Could she go and find Graeme? Get him to somehow strongarm Dev out to the car?

A quick glance at Dev, and his muscled physique and sheer size nixed that idea. No, that wouldn’t work.

She could call Paul?

And...what? Her job was to solve problems. Paul expected her to solve things—once he gave her a problem, quite simply it ceased to be his. It was
her
problem.

‘It can’t be illegal,’ she said, finally.

He casually turned over, to smile that devastating smile at her yet again, his chin propped on one hand.

My God. She was helpless to prevent the rapid acceleration of her heat—even at completely inappropriate moments, her body reacted to him.

‘It won’t be.’

‘And it can’t be a...’ Ruby had to look away, staring at the elaborate cornicing above the curtains ‘...a kiss,’ she said. Then faster, ‘Or anything else like that.’

In seconds he was up, out of bed, standing right in front of her, forcing her to look at him. The emptiness had gone, but what he’d exposed was impossible to interpret.

‘Is that how little you—?’ he started. Then stopped.

Then in a different, heavier tone, the shutters firmly up again, he spoke. ‘No.’

Ruby backed away, needing to put space between them.

‘So you’ll come now? Right this instant?’

He nodded.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Fine. A favour. Done.’

She thought she’d get that smile again—but didn’t. He just kept looking at her, revealing not a thing.

So she backed away even further, right outside the room and into the hallway.

‘You’ve got two minutes to meet me out the front,’ she said, briskly. Like Production Co-ordinator Ruby, not the Ruby who’d very nearly kissed Devlin Cooper again.

She didn’t wait around for him to respond, she was just out of there. Away from him, away from the mass of confusion and attraction and questions and heat that was every encounter with Dev.

Outside, on the decking, she stared up at the cloudless sky. Just stared and stared and stared.

And wondered what on earth she’d just agreed to.

What on earth she’d just done.

NINE

Days passed. A week.

Nothing.

Ruby barely saw Dev at Unit Base, and the few times she did get out to set he didn’t even notice she was there—or at least certainly gave the impression he didn’t.

When she ate dinner at the pub a few times after work, she deliberately kept her back to the door and talked and laughed with her friends as normal—because it wasn’t as if she cared if Dev arrived or anything.

And then she hated herself for looking over her shoulder whenever a footfall was somehow heavier or different or whatever. Just in case.

Occasionally she’d kid herself that he’d forgotten about their deal. That he was half asleep and didn’t remember, or that he’d never meant it anyway.

But she didn’t, truly, believe that.

So late on a Saturday afternoon, after a six-day work week and with every cell in her body desperate to crawl into bed and sleep straight through until Monday, it didn’t really surprise her to see Dev sitting on the jarrah bench seat outside her apartment.

Equally, it didn’t surprise her when her heart did a little somersault. Didn’t surprise her—but she wasn’t exactly happy about it either.

He wore jeans, T-shirt and a black jacket. A rugby team’s baseball cap was pulled down low over his forehead, and dark sunglasses covered his eyes. He pushed himself to his feet as she slid out of her car.

Ruby locked the doors, and walked towards him as nonchalantly as possible, fumbling only slightly as she located her key.

‘Is this your version of going incognito?’ she asked as she stepped onto the small porch. ‘As I don’t think you’re fooling anyone.’

‘You’d be surprised how many people don’t recognise me,’ he drawled, catching her gaze with a pointed look.

For what felt like the hundredth time since they’d met, Ruby blushed, and she turned her head to give the task of opening the door her complete attention.

‘You’d better come inside before the whole town starts talking,’ she said as the door swung open. ‘Apparently my motel manager tops even the local hairdresser in knowing all the Lucyville gossip.’

‘That’s a real issue for you, isn’t it?’ he asked, following her inside. ‘People talking about you?’

Inside her apartment Ruby wasn’t exactly sure what to do. After all, she had no idea why Dev was actually here.

‘I would’ve thought you’d understand that,’ she said, throwing her handbag onto the tiny kitchen bench. ‘Given how much the world gossips about you.’

Tea,
she decided. She’d make them both a cup of tea.

‘For me, gossip’s a necessary evil. I can’t expect all the perks of fame without some of the crap.’

Ruby flicked the switch on the kettle, then found two coffee mugs that she placed onto the laminate counter. One had a chip on the handle.

Somehow, making tea for Dev in this simple little apartment seemed more surreal than anything else that had happened between them. She rubbed her thumb over the chip a few times, trying to pull her thoughts together.

Why was he here? What favour was he going to ask of her?

Dev was resting both his hands on the other side of the counter, watching her. ‘Ruby?’

What were they talking about again?

‘Gossip,’ she said, reminding herself. ‘Well. I’m not famous, obviously. So there’s no real positive out of people spreading rumours about me, is there? Wouldn’t it be more strange if it
didn’t
bother me?’

‘But you seem slightly more...obsessed with maintaining a lily-white reputation. Not one whisper of scandal is allowed when it comes to Ruby Bell. No hint of the slightest moment of unprofessionalism.’

Ruby snorted most inelegantly. ‘My reputation is not lily white, I can assure you.’

Dev raised his eyebrows, but Ruby just shrugged as she flipped open a box of teabags and dropped one into each mug.

‘I told you the other night that I had a bit of a wild youth. Well, unsurprisingly, that type of behaviour generates gossip. A lot of gossip. Some of it accurate, a lot of it not. According to the local grapevine, it’s quite frightening the number of people I slept with as a seventeen-year-old.’

Ruby smiled as she reached for the boiled kettle and saw Dev’s expression. ‘Don’t look so shocked. I wasn’t as bad as people made out, but I did enough to deserve a good chunk of my reputation. I’m not proud of myself—but it’s done now. I was very young, very naïve. But I’ve learnt, moved on—I’m not the same person any more.’

‘You’re not the type of person who gets gossiped about.’

Dunking the teabags, she looked up, pleased he’d understood. ‘Yes, exactly. I had enough to deal with back then without the speculating glances, the whispers and the innuendo. In fact, gossip made my behaviour worse—I confused people talking about me with people actually giving a crap about me. Although, for a while, just being noticed was enough.’ Ruby paused, and laughed without humour. ‘And you know what? I was the one who figured out I needed to change, that I needed to grow up, and not one judgmental comment by some know-it-all busybody made one iota of difference.’

Too late she realised she’d raised her voice, and tea was now splashed in tiny droplets across the counter.

‘Oh,’ she said, in a small voice. Then stepped away, snatching up a tea towel and blotting ineffectually at the hot liquid.

Dev was now in the kitchen with her, and he reached out, taking the towel from her.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

She looked down at her feet, and wiggled her toes in her ballet flats.

‘I didn’t say anything happened,’ she said.

‘But it did.’

She looked up abruptly, her lips beginning to form the words and sentences to explain...

Then she realised she was standing in a two-and-a-half-star holiday apartment with peeling vinyl flooring with one of the most famous men in the world.

No, he really didn’t need to know about any of what happened.

So she remained silent.

For a long minute she was sure he was going to push—but he didn’t.

Instead he calmly picked up the coffee mugs and tipped their remaining contents down the sink.

‘We don’t really have any time for a drink, anyway,’ he said, his back still to her.

‘Why’s that?’ she replied, for a moment, confused. Then, in a flash, she remembered—the only possible reason why he was here. She swallowed. ‘The favour.’

He turned slowly, then leant his hips against the cabinets. Belatedly, he nodded.

‘Our plane leaves in just over an hour.’

Ruby knew her mouth was gaping open, but was helpless to do anything about it.

Dev smiled. A devilish smile that was becoming so, so familiar.

‘We have a party to attend. In Sydney. No time to drive so I chartered a plane.’

As you did.

‘A party?’ Ruby asked, when her jaw had begun functioning again.

‘It’s just casual, at a private home. A birthday party of a—friend.’

He said it as if that was all the information she could possibly need. When she stood, just staring at him, his eyes narrowed impatiently.

‘You really need to go pack.’

‘What if I have plans tonight?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘You agreed to the deal.’

‘I didn’t agree to put my life on hold at your whim.’

He grinned. ‘Lord, Ruby, I do like you.’

She shook her head, dismissing what he said. ‘I have plans tonight.’

Plans involving instant noodles and a small pile of romantic comedy DVDs, but still—plans.

‘Well, you should’ve thought of that at the time. Negotiated appropriate methods of notification of the favour or something—but, you didn’t. So—here we are. And I’d like to cash in my favour. Tonight.’

Ruby considered continuing her argument. Or just flat out refusing to go. He wouldn’t, after all, drag her out of her apartment against her will.

Maybe he saw what she was thinking in her eyes.

‘It’s just a party, Ruby. Nothing sinister, I promise. You might even have fun.’

But still, she hesitated. He was so brash, so sure of getting his way...

‘I really don’t want to go on my own.’

That sentence was said much more harshly than what had come before. But oddly, without the same self-assurance. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And so, somehow, she found herself packing her little red carry-on suitcase.

Then minutes later she was sitting beside him in the back seat of Dev’s four-wheel drive, zipping along as Graeme drove them to the airport. And to the mysterious party beyond.

The luxurious Cessna took less than an hour to cover the four hundred and fifty kilometres between the single-runway Lucyville airport—the home of the local aero-club and certainly no commercial airlines or chartered jets—and the private terminal adjacent to Sydney International airport.

Unsurprisingly, Ruby had asked a lot of questions in the drive to the Lucyville airport. Dev had responded carefully with as few words as possible:

Whose party is it?
Ros.

And she was?
A friend.
He’d managed to say this more confidently this time—regardless, Ruby had still raised an eyebrow.

How many people could be there?
Fifty?
He had no idea.

Where was it?
Her house.

Why don’t you want to go alone?

To this, he’d simply shrugged, and by then they’d arrived at the small strip of tarmac amongst the patchwork paddocks—and there was no more time for questions.

Take-off was taken up with a safety demonstration by their stewardess, plus a bit of oohing and aahing by Ruby over their plush leather seats that faced each other and the glossy cabinetry in the little food and beverage galley behind the cockpit.

‘This is completely awesome,’ she’d said at the time. Dev agreed—money made life a lot easier and, at times like this, a lot more fun.

Fortunately, in this instance, it also distracted Ruby from her quest to discover exactly where they were going.

During the short flight she was ensconced in the jet’s tiny bathroom, courtesy of his explanation that they would need to drive direct from the airport to the party. This had earned him yet another glare, and then later another—from freshly made-up eyes—as she’d buckled up next to him for landing, plucking at the fabric of her jeans.

‘I really didn’t have anything suitable to wear.’

‘You look fantastic,’ he’d said—sincerely—running his gaze over her brown leather heeled boots, dark blue jeans, creamish camisole and navy blue velvet blazer.

She’d just rolled her eyes. Which—again—she’d repeated when he’d quickly changed on arrival in Sydney.

‘Two minutes to look like
that?
Really?’

But she’d smiled, and he’d been stupidly pleased that she’d approved of how he looked.

Now they sat in the back seat of another black four-wheel drive, this time with a new driver, Graeme having been left a little flabbergasted back in Lucyville. But then, he couldn’t do much given Dev hadn’t booked him onto the flight.

Which hadn’t been a difficult decision. No doubt he’d hear all about it from Veronica—sooner rather than later. But right now, it was all about tonight.

Ruby made a few attempts at conversation, but all fell flat. Instead Dev found himself staring at nothing out of the window, Sydney passing him by in a multicoloured blur of lights. As their destination became closer, even the lights failed to register as his eyes completely unfocused.

Then he didn’t know what he was looking at, or thinking about.
Nothing
he told himself, but of course he wasn’t.

Snatches of voices, bursts of laughter, moments of anger, conspiratorial giggles. Memories. None fully formed, more a collage, a show-reel of moments in time. All set in one place, at one house—at one home.

When the driver pulled into the familiar ornate gates, Dev waited for the crunch of flawlessly raked gravel—but there was none. The tyres rolled across a driveway that had been paved perfectly smooth some time in the past fourteen years.

The driver expertly negotiated the cars parked along the semi-circular curve, pulling to a stop directly before the tiered garden steps that led to the front door.

Ruby opened her own door, stepping out of the car almost the moment the car rolled to a stop. Hands on hips, she stood, surveying the house, the gardens—and the guests who flowed around them, walking up from the street in couples and groups.

Dev sent the driver on his way and joined Ruby, watching her watch what was happening around her.

Up until this moment she’d displayed not one hint of nervousness about the evening. Yes, she’d been a little bothered about the lack of time to prepare, and had sighed loudly at his halfway answers to her questions. That she was frustrated with
him,
there was no doubt.

But otherwise she’d been typically no-nonsense Ruby. Just as she was on set, she’d been calm, and focused. He’d almost been able to read her thoughts:
It’s just a party. No big deal.

Now they were here, however, he could see sudden tension in her posture.

She turned towards him, tiny lines etching her forehead.

‘Who am I?’ she asked.

It took him a moment to figure out what that meant.

‘You mean if anyone asks?’

Her answering nod was terribly stiff.

Lord. He didn’t know. He barely knew why
he
was here, let alone how he should describe his unexpected guest.

‘My—’

He was going to say
date,
for the reward of that flash to her eyes—that delicious reaction of heat tinged with anger.

But tonight he found riling her was not on the top of his list of things to do.

So no—he wouldn’t push, he wouldn’t call this a date when he knew in her head she’d so stubbornly decreed that they would never, ever date again.

‘—friend,’ he finished.

It sounded lame—and like a lie. As much of a lie as calling
Ros
a friend.

And somehow it was also the wrong thing to say, as Ruby took a big step back, then looked away, staring up at the moon.

‘How about we just go with work colleague?’ she said, with a razor-sharp edge.