Why Resist a Rebel - By Leah Ashton Page 0,48

time she stayed with him, he’d lain on the couch, wanting to put distance between himself and Ruby. Then, after her aborted attempt to leave, he hadn’t thought twice about his tablets. He’d known she’d be gone in the morning, and told himself he didn’t care—that it was exactly what he wanted.

But tonight that option held no appeal. He didn’t want to retreat to another room, and he didn’t want to be a drugged-out lump beside her.

Was it so much to ask? A night where he got to be normal again? Where he could sleep beside a beautiful woman with only thoughts of her in his stupid head, and not useless things he could do nothing about?

He just wanted to sleep beside Ruby. To wake beside her and not feel as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders, or that getting out of bed was an impossible option.

He dropped the tablets into the sink, then twisted the tap so hot water chased them down the drain.

Decision made, he switched off the bathroom light, and climbed back beneath the sheets.

But once there, even the gentle in and out of Ruby’s breathing proved no use.

Sleep was as elusive as always. Tonight was no different from the many nights before it.

Finally, hating himself, he surrendered—to the pills, and to the necessary oblivion of sleep.

Dev was still asleep when Ruby stepped out of the bathroom. She wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him, cosy in the thick terry-towelling robe she wore. He slept just as he had that morning—was it really only last week?—when she’d agreed to the silly deal that had landed her here. Which was like a log, basically.

Now what?

Briefly she considered repeating her exit from a fortnight earlier—and simply disappearing.

But this morning, that just didn’t seem right. Or, at least not an option she was letting herself think too much about.

She’d get dressed, then figure out what would happen next. After all, that would fit the theme of the last twenty-four hours—making decisions without pretty much any thought of the consequences.

Her clothes were puddled on the floor, and as she bent to gather them in her arms her familiar red carry-on suitcase caught her attention. It lay on its back, right beside Dev’s backpack, in front of a wardrobe.

Disappearing was suddenly a very viable option, she decided as she stalked on bare feet to their luggage.

Had he really even booked her another room? How dared he assume—?

But just before she snatched the bag up, an unevenly folded note drew her attention, balanced atop the red fabric.

She’d barely read the single handwritten sentence, when she heard a sleepy laugh behind her.

‘I had the concierge organise for your bag to be brought up here after you fell asleep.’

Oh.

‘I thought you might want your things.’

She turned to face him. He’d raised himself onto his elbows, the sheet falling low to reveal the delicious strength of his chest.

She glanced down at Dev’s note again, his neat all-capitals script.

‘Cross my heart,’ he added, into her continued silence.

She believed him—that wasn’t the issue. It was just taking her a moment to absorb the thoughtfulness of the gesture—firstly that he’d thought to organise for her bag to be delivered, and secondly that he knew her well enough to guess her reaction at the bag’s discovery.

It felt...nice.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

He rubbed at his eyes, his movements slow and heavy-looking. ‘How does breakfast in bed sound? Room service here is exceptional.’

And just like that, she’d decided what she was doing next.

They ended up spending the day in Sydney.

With no driver—and Dev in dark glasses and a baseball cap—they headed for Bondi beach.

Ruby had pointed out an advertisement as she’d read the paper, the many Sunday sections spread like giant colourful confetti across the bed. Sculpture by the Sea.

Dev couldn’t say he was a regular visitor to art exhibitions, but he figured he could do a lot worse than walking from Bondi along the coast down to Tamarama—with Ruby. So yeah, he was sold.

It was a mild October day, and yet keen sunbathers still dotted the beach. They both held their shoes in their hands as they walked, the sand smooth beneath their feet and the ocean as perfect a blue as the sky.

‘Where’s the art?’ Dev asked.

Ruby smiled and pointed vaguely ahead of them, the slight breeze ruffling her hair. ‘I think it starts down there somewhere?’

But really, neither of them was too worried about the sculptures.

During the short drive from the city, they’d chatted easily—a