‘Gosh, I’m so sleepy,’ she whispered through chattering teeth.
‘You can’t go to sleep, not yet anyway,’ Ruy responded, ramming the vehicle to a halt in front of his property and racing round to the passenger side to lift her out at speed.
He strode up the stairs to the bathroom off the bedroom and laid her down with care on the floor. ‘You need to get undressed. You have to get out of your wet clothes,’ he told her as he rang his housekeeper to order a drink and a snack for her.
‘So you can paint me?’ Suzy asked with a giggle, entirely removed from the urgency of her condition.
‘Not just yet,’ Ruy countered, crouching down to extract her from his coat and unpinning the wilted veil with ease to toss it aside. ‘How the hell do I get you out of this dress?’
‘H-hooks!’ Suzy advised with another inappropriate giggle.
Suppressing a groan, seeing by the state of her pale bluish hands that there was no way she was capable of undressing herself, Ruy gently bent her over and embarked on the many hooks. His wide sensual mouth clamped down in a hard line as the bruises began to appear. Against her naturally pale skin purple fingerprints ornamented her slim shoulders and upper arms while a long painful scrape and bruising marred her slender spine. He knew he wanted to find the guy responsible and thump him hard where it hurt most. The knowledge shook him because Ruy was very controlled and disciplined and he virtually never gave way to emotional reactions. After all, he had spent his entire life suppressing natural inclinations to concentrate on what he saw as his duty.
He stalked into his bedroom to dig a tee shirt out of a drawer. After his conversation with his sister, he was wondering if Suzy had been sexually assaulted as well and he felt murderous as he dropped the tee shirt over her down-bent head and threaded her limp arms through the holes before propping her up. Suzy was still shivering violently, mumbling to herself, barely aware, it seemed, of her surroundings or of him. That was a novel experience for a man used to being treated like a billionaire trophy to be acquired at any cost. Lifting her up with ease, he carried her into his bedroom, laid her down and rolled her into the soft blanket he had laid out, finally settling her back against the carved headboard like a cocoon.
‘Now you eat and drink,’ Ruy announced.
‘Not hungry,’ she muttered.
He wasn’t listening because Cecile had given him his instructions and he would follow them to the letter.
‘A hot bath would have warmed me up,’ Suzy complained.
‘Your body temperature has to be restored slowly,’ Ruy contradicted. ‘It’s safer that way. It would have hurt like hell anyway if I’d plunged you into a hot bath.’
‘It...would?’ Her head fell back against the headboard. ‘Where am I?’
‘My house.’
‘How did I get here?’
‘It’s not important. What’s your fiancé’s name?’
Suzy stiffened, drooping eyelids lifting high on her wide green eyes. ‘Percy Brenton.’
Percy Brenton, you are toast, Ruy reflected with satisfaction at acquiring the name. ‘Why were you marrying him?’
‘Dad...’ Her voice faltered and she blinked rapidly. ‘That’s private, I can’t discuss that.’
‘You can discuss it with me. It will remain confidential. You have been harmed. I will not harm you in any way,’ Ruy informed her levelly, his sheer confidence leaping out at her in his stance, his tone, his bright golden eyes that were no longer darker than pitch. Gorgeous eyes, she thought absently, totally gorgeous, exotic eyes.
A knock sounded on a door somewhere and her eyes slid off him to bump up against unfamiliar views and the huge window overlooking the snowy woodland scene outside. It was raining now, and the unseasonal fall of light snow was already melting fast. She was disorientated because she had never been in such a big bedroom or seen such furniture or the kind of classic paintings ornamenting the rough stone walls. It looked incredibly opulent and that was quite outside her experience.
Ruy stalked back into view with a tray. He sank down on the edge of the bed and extended a glass in a metal holder to her.
‘Not thirsty,’ she admitted.
Ruy ignored her, raising the glass to her lips. ‘Drink,’ he urged.
‘You’re very bossy.’ She sighed, sipping with difficulty and grimacing. ‘What is it?’
‘Milk and honey—’
‘Brandy would have been nicer,’ she told him, settling her dilated gaze on his and internally swooning, not from the sweetness of the drink, but from the sheer carnal impact of those lean bronzed features and the dark golden eyes so intent on hers. He packed a real punch in the charisma stakes, and he had the most amazing long black curling lashes fringing his eyes, the sort a woman would have killed to have.
‘You’re not allowed alcohol... Cecile’s orders,’ Ruy told her apologetically.
‘Your sister’s really nice,’ she told him lamely.
‘And I’m not?’ Ruy grinned, having caught the unspoken comparison.
‘You’re just very...forceful,’ Suzy framed.
‘Don’t you dare compare me to him!’ Ruy warned in a husky undertone and something about that tone, something about that smouldering dark golden appraisal, set a fire alight in her pelvis and, without even thinking about it, Suzy leant forward and pressed her parted lips against his.
And for a split second he froze, and she thought, I’ve got it wrong, along with, What the heck am I doing? as astonishment at her aberrant invitation rippled through her. But that was before he responded, a lean hand coming up to cup her nape and tip her head up and he was kissing her back and it was amazing, literally the most electrifying kiss she had ever had. The firm seal of his sensual lips against hers, the delving exploration of his tongue, the very taste of him were overwhelming.
He jerked back from her with such abruptness that she was startled. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said flatly. ‘That shouldn’t have happened. You are not yourself right now.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she began, her face burning hot with mortification because she, unbelievable as it was to her at that moment, had made the first move.
Ruy rested the plate with the sandwich down on her lap. ‘Eat...it’ll help.’
At that point, Suzy wanted to sink through a hole in the mattress rather than try to eat. Her brain felt as if it were in a swamp. She remembered the attraction but not why or how she had succumbed to it. Her body was warming up now, indeed she was nearly too warm, and her hands came up from under the blanket to push it down and free her fingers. Like a drowning swimmer, she snatched at a sandwich as though it were a lifebelt.