Page 5 of Forbidden Dark Vows

“Have you recovered?”

I spin around to find Ruby standing next to me, a smile tugging her lips up at the corners. “Yes. Thank you. Yes, I always feel safer when my feet are touching the ground.”

She nods. Too late, I realize that she has already spotted the black smears on my chin. “Another accident or did you read the newspaper on the way here?”

I can’t help chuckling. She seems to have that effect on me, creating laughter that gurgles beneath the surface just waiting to erupt every time she speaks.

“I changed your tire. I should’ve gone back to my room to shower, but I didn’t think, and, well, you’re not the first person to have noticed, so it looks like I’m stuck with it now.”

She furrows her brow. “My tire?”

“Yes. Your mom said you had a slow puncture. It was flat as a pancake when I got there. She was worried about you getting home.”

She nibbles her bottom lip with her front teeth and then says, “May I?” gesturing to my beer. I hand it over and she takes a long swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before handing it back to me. “Thank you. For the beer and the tire.”

Ruby moves closer and surveys the guests in their fancy clothes. “Are you and Alessandro friends?”

Alessandro… The name already sounds comfortable on her tongue.

“Known each other since Uni.”

“Are you an actor too?”

She studies me intently, and I notice now that her eyes are green. I’ve never seen green eyes close up before, and I think I understand why cats are so bewitching.

“No. I work in oil. Petroleum. Fuel.”

Her laughter caresses my cheek like a chiffon scarf. “So, you’re used to getting your hands dirty.”

I peer down at my empty hand and ball it into a fist to hide my grimy fingers. “Not quite. At least, not anymore.”

Her eyes narrow briefly. “Not anymore?”

“I seem to spend more time in the office these days, managing numbers.”

She gives me a curious sideways smile. “So, what, you’re an accountant?”

I’m generally uncomfortable discussing what I do—most women turn their nose up at the word fuel—but Ruby isn’t like most women. She’s still here and she doesn’t look like she’s trying to escape. Yet.

“Not exactly.” I swallow, the back of my throat clicking drily. “I’m the boss. I own my own company. It’s still early days. We can’t compete with the likes of BP or Chevron, but, well…” I glug a mouthful of beer. There’s the dark family business but I’m not involved with it yet, and I don’t want to scare my woman away.My woman?“What do you do? When you’re not skating?”

“I read a lot.”

I nod and pray that she doesn’t ask me who my favorite author is. I haven’t read a book since Uni.

“I studied literature,” she continues without waiting for a response. Which is just as well really, as book talk isn’t my strongest subject. “It was the only thing that I stood a hope in hell of passing, so I went with it.”

She has an air of confidence that allows her to say exactly what she means rather than pussyfooting around. I like that about her.

“Favorite book?” I ask, because damn, I want to know.

“Wuthering Heights. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve read it. Doesn’t everyone want to be loved the way Heathcliff loves Catherine Earnshaw?”

I must be gaping at her because the smile is back, but she isn’t laughingatme.

“I guess,” she continues, “if your next question is what I want to do with my life, it would be to write a modern-dayWuthering Heights. Not because I want to go down in history as the next Emily Bronte, but because if I can write about love with that kind of passion, then I’ll be a very happy lady.”

“Was Emily Bronte happy?” I ask.

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