Why Resist a Rebel - By Leah Ashton Page 0,51

guess. Over-excited—proving them all wrong. I never considered the possibility of miscarrying, and I certainly didn’t understand how common it was so early in a pregancy. And then one day I started bleeding, and when I went to the hospital they told me I’d lost my baby. I felt like my world had ended.’

He couldn’t just sit still any more. He reached for her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close against him. She pressed her cheek against his chest.

‘That’s when I figured it out—figured out that I had it all wrong. I dumped the guy—a relief for him I’m sure—and quit my dead-end job to go back to school. I decided I was all I needed in my life—that I didn’t need some guy, or a family, or anyone, to be happy. I just needed me.’

She was so sure, her voice so firm.

But her body shook, just a little.

She tilted her chin up, to look at him, finally.

He didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he knew that there wasn’t anything he could say, anything that would make a difference.

Besides, that wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, either, when he’d told her about his dad.

So he did the only thing that did make sense—and kissed her.

But it was different from their kisses of before—this wasn’t flirty, although it was certainly passionate. It was...beautiful, and sad, and he was suddenly sure there was something different between them, some connection, something special. And he was the last guy to think anything as fluffy and romantic as that.

But with Ruby, on the beach, beneath the sun and beside the giant friendly tortoise, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

‘Oh, my God, it’s Dev Cooper!’

The shriek tore them apart. Immediately Ruby retreated, shrugging off his arm in a brutal motion, and jumping to her feet.

He glanced up to see a group of teenage girls approaching him, all pointing and chattering loudly. Across the beach people were twisting on their towels to have a look, to see what all the fuss was about.

Earlier today he’d seen a few curious, wondering glances, but he’d been lucky. No one had approached him, no one had burst the little bubble that he and Ruby had so inadvertently created. After a while he’d stopped even noticing, he’d been so wrapped up in Ruby.

But that bubble was gone now—destroyed. Ruby was looking back towards the houses and the road above the beach, as if determining her escape strategy.

Not from the rapidly approaching crowd—but from him.

He was on his feet. ‘Ruby—’

She had her phone in her hand. ‘I’ll sort out a car. You won’t be able to walk back to Bondi, now.’

Not we won’t, but you.

She spoke in her work voice, as professional and false as it got.

And as the girls slowed their charge to look at him almost shyly, momentarily lost for words, his pasted-on smile was equally plastic.

But then he was a good actor, so he submitted to the autographs, and the photos, and the screaming—while the whole time all he wanted to do was to yell and shout and tell them all to go away. To leave him alone.

Although even if they did it would be too late. Ruby was only metres away, her arms wrapped around herself, watching.

But that moment had passed. Their moment.

He told himself it was for the best, that it wasn’t something he wanted, or needed.

Just like Ruby, he’d long ago made his own path.

And he walked it alone.

ELEVEN

On Monday evening, Ruby nosed her hire car up the long gravel driveway to Dev’s cottage. Even as she pulled to a stop she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing.

She’d been driving home from another long day, already planning what she was going to order at the pub for dinner. And then—unexpectedly—she was here.

No. That wasn’t completely true.

It wasn’t at all unexpected. Given the amount of time her subconscious had allocated to Dev today, her arrival here could even be considered foreseeable.

That fact didn’t make it any less a bad idea.

She held the car key in her hand, and made a half-hearted attempt to reach for the ignition before stopping herself.

She was here now. She might as well go talk to him—clear the air.

Yesterday’s flight home had been awkward. There was no other word for it. It was obvious neither of them had intended what had happened at the beach.

She should regret it, she knew. Why would she share something so personal with a man she barely knew?

A