Hewantedhis sight back.
Hegrievedfor the ability to see.
Hemournedthe loss of little things, like not being able to see the sunset, the sunrise, the smile on someone’s face...
Yes, he could manage to dress and feed himself, and he could mostly manage to avoid bumping into furniture, but what he wanted was his old life back. The freedom to come and go, the independence, the autonomy, the agency. He was stuck in a foreign land, on unfamiliar territory, where all he could cling to was a thread of hope that his life would go back to how it had been before.
And he didn’t need his sight to recognise that he had seriously miscalculated how tempting it would be to have Ruby here with him. What had he been thinking, getting her to close her eyes and pretend to be blind? It had only intensified the sensual atmosphere between them. The bewitching atmosphere that had grown from the moment she’d stepped into the library at Rothwell Park and asked him about the wedding.
He could have stuck to his refusal. He could have been stubborn and unbending. But he hadn’t wanted to jeopardise her business aspirations. In some ways she reminded him of himself—hardworking, driven, determined. It hadn’t sat well with him to thwart her plan. He was selling Rothwell Park anyway. What did it matter if one wedding was held there before he handed over the deeds?
Lucas only hoped his determination to keep his hands off Ruby held out over the next seven days, otherwise he was in deep trouble.
Deeper than he wanted to think about.
CHAPTER SIX
RUBYFOUNDTHErooms that had been prepared for her by Lucas’s housekeeper. The bedroom was larger than her entire flat back in London, decorated in cream and white, with a luxurious handwoven rug on the floor that threatened to swallow her up to the waist. And the bathroom was stunningly appointed, with the same sand-inspired marble floor and tapware in gold.
The shower area was big enough to have a party in, and there was a deep freestanding bath positioned in front of a window that overlooked a secluded walled garden. A young vine was beginning its climb along the stonework outside, and a bronze fountain with a tinkling flow of water gave the setting a spa-like feel. The large pavilion-style windows of the bedroom had a stunning view of the ocean, to the left of the jetty.
She opened the sliding glass doors leading to the terrace and the briny scent of the ocean filled her nostrils. The lightweight silk curtains, captured by the playful sea breeze, billowed around her and out through the doors like the voluminous skirt of a ballgown.
Ruby caught sight of Lucas, down by the water’s edge. He was standing with his back to the villa, his hand thrust deeply into his trouser pockets. Was he still deriding himself for kissing her? The housekeeper’s granddaughter who had, yet again, made a fool of herself over him? But he had been the one to start it by insisting she close her eyes and try to see the world from his perspective.
Ruby ran her tongue over her lips and recalled every moment of their heart-stopping kiss. No one had ever kissed her with such intensity, with such exquisite sensuality. He had stirred her body into a swarm of sensations it was still humming with even now.
Lucas turned and faced the villa, and even though Ruby knew he couldn’t see her she suspected he sensed her watching him. But how could shenotwatch him? Not be transfixed by him? Captivated by him? He had always held a certain fascination for her—her teenage crush was a cringeworthy reminder of that—and in her callow youth she had elevated him to a godlike status, finding him a powerfully romantic figure: a tortured hero who only needed the love of the right woman to find peace.
Ruby had gauchely, misguidedly, imagined herself as that woman, foolishly thinking she was his perfect soul mate. But he didn’t even believe such a thing existed. He was as cynical about relationships as she was hopeful and optimistic. One kiss did not mean anything, and she had better hammer that truth into her brain right now or suffer the humiliating consequences of having her hopes dashed all over again.
Ruby had spent an hour in the dream of a kitchen, preparing dinner. Cinderella had never had it so good. The appliances were top-of-the-range, and the layout was perfect in terms of form and function. She couldn’t have designed it better herself.
She hadn’t seen Lucas since her glimpse of him by the shore. Shehadnoticed a large study at the other end of the villa, near his bedroom suite, though. She hadn’t dared to venture into his rooms, even though she’d had the opportunity when he was down by the water. Hadn’t she suffered enough embarrassment for one day, with him insisting their kiss would not be repeated?
Ruby set up the dining room that was situated in the middle of the villa, overlooking the pool. The water was lit from the sides of the pool, cast in a stunning blue light. The sun was just about to sink below the horizon, painting the lower part of the sky in tangerine and pink streaks. But above that vivid colour storm clouds were forming in bruised-looking clumps, and in the distance Ruby heard a faint rumble of thunder.
Lucas came in just as she was lighting a candle in the middle of the table. He had showered and changed since she’d last seen him—his hair was still damp and curling around the collar of his light blue shirt. He was wearing dark-coloured chinos and suede loafers without socks, revealing his tanned feet. She could pick up the citrus fragrance of his cologne, the notes as intoxicating as his presence.
‘Dinner won’t be long. Would you like a drink?’
Who said she couldn’t act cool, calm and collected after that blistering kiss?
If he was thinking about their kiss, there was no sign of it on his face.
Lucas placed his hand on the back of a chair at the dining table. ‘I’ll get it. What would you like? Champagne?’
‘That would be lovely.’
Ruby decided against insisting she help him. The kitchen was easy to navigate, and it would be good for him to gain more independence. She stayed in the background, putting the finishing touches to their meal, but acutely aware of his every movement as he took the champagne from the wine fridge and released its cork.
But then he frowned, and turned first in one direction and then another, lines of frustration rippling across his features. ‘You might have to help me find the glasses. I’m not sure where Iona has put them.’
Ruby moved over to the cupboard where she had seen the glasses earlier. ‘Here we go.’ She set them in front of him, standing close enough to him to see a tiny nick in the skin of his lean jaw. ‘You cut yourself shaving.’
‘Yes.’ His mouth was pulled tight, his frown brooding.
‘I could have helped you with that.’