Why Resist a Rebel - By Leah Ashton Page 0,26

stiffly.

‘Here’s an idea,’ he said. ‘How about we call a truce? For tonight. For argument’s sake, let’s pretend you don’t hate my guts, or the way we both came to be sitting together at this table.’

She grinned, then looked surprised that she had. ‘I don’t hate you,’ she said. ‘You just haven’t given me a heck of a lot to like.’

‘I’ll try harder,’ he promised.

She held his gaze for a long, long while. Considering his words.

‘Okay,’ she finally conceded. ‘But just for tonight.’

Belatedly, Ruby acknowledged that her dessert plate was completely empty—excluding some melted remnants of sorbet. She could barely remember what it tasted like—she’d been so focused on their conversation.

How had this happened?

A couple of hours ago she’d been dreading this date...

No. That was clearly a lie. Anxiously anticipating was far more on the mark.

But now, she found herself in the midst of a really fantastic evening. Date. A date with a movie star.

Although, oddly, she found she needed to remind herself of that fact every now and again. A little mental pinch of her arm, so to speak.

He was different tonight. Only for a moment earlier, and even then she was unsure whether she’d imagined it, had his gaze darkened. She realised that up until tonight there had been a kind of shadow to Dev. A...burden, maybe?

But tonight he was different. There was more of an openness to his expression. Oddly, as they chatted—initially about the industry but then, thankfully, about basically everything but—Ruby had the sense that the shadow was gradually lifting. She found herself wanting to find opportunities to make him smile again, to laugh.

It was as if he was out of practice.

Ruby gave herself a mental shake.

Oh, no. Now that was wishful thinking. She was putting way too much thought into this.

She needed to keep this simple: it was a date. One date. Only.

They’d just finished trading stories of their varied travel disasters. She’d noticed that Dev hadn’t spoken of that time I was mobbed by fans in Paris or this one time I was invited for afternoon tea with the Queen—it was as if he was distancing himself from what made him so, so different from her. Somehow, he was making himself relatable. A real person.

Was he doing it deliberately?

Yes, for sure. He’d been right before—he was charming, and smart.

But also...it was working. She found herself questioning her opinion of him. She’d certainly relaxed. Something she knew was unwise, but the wine, the food, the lighting, and Dev...yeah, Dev... It was...he was...pretty much an irresistible force.

But not quite.

‘Why film production?’ he asked, changing the direction of their conversation yet again.

Ruby swirled her Shiraz in its oversized glass. ‘Would you believe I’m a failed actor?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ he said, immediately.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Is it that obvious?’

He nodded, assessing her. ‘Acting requires a certain...artifice. You—you tell it how it is. You’re not pretending, not hiding what you think.’

She shifted a little in her seat, uncomfortable. ‘You’re saying I’m tactless?’ she said, attempting a teasing tone but failing.

‘Honest,’ he said, disagreeing with her.

His gaze had shifted a little, become more serious. He was watching her closely, and it left her feeling exposed. She didn’t like it.

‘But,’ he said, ‘sometimes you try to hide what you’re not saying: frustration, dismissal...attraction.’

Ruby had a feeling she wasn’t being as successful in that goal as she’d like tonight. What could he see in her expression?

She decided it best not to consider that at all.

‘You’re partly right,’ she said. ‘At school I loved to act, but really I was only playing variations of myself. I wasn’t any good at stepping into another character.’ She laughed. ‘But I still wanted to work in film—you know, delusions of glamour—and I couldn’t wait to travel the world—so, I went to uni, then started at the bottom and worked my way up.’

‘You were good at school?’

She shook her head, laughing. ‘Not at all. I went to uni when I was twenty, after going back to finish Year Twelve. I had a...rebellious phase, I’d guess you’d call it.’

Dev’s eyebrows rose. ‘Really?’

She smiled, pleased she’d surprised him. ‘Most definitely. A combination of a few things, but mostly I think I was just a pretty unhappy teenager.’ She paused, not sure how much to share. But then, it was no secret. ‘I was a foster child, and ended up going through a few different families as a teenager. For some reason I just couldn’t stay away from trouble.’

He just nodded as he absorbed her words—he didn’t look shocked,