She succumbed to his sinful seduction...

Now she’s carrying the Greek’s baby!

It’s the last thing he wanted, but Greek billionaire Ares Kourakis is going to be a father. He’ll do his duty and keep pregnant Ruby by his side—he’ll even marry her. But when all he can offer is intense passion and a vast fortune, will that be enough to get idealistic Ruby down the aisle?

USA TODAY bestselling author JENNIE LUCAS’s parents owned a bookstore, and she grew up surrounded by books, dreaming about faraway lands. A fourth-generation Westerner, she went east at sixteen to boarding school, on scholarship, wandered the world, got married, then finally worked her way through college before happily returning to her hometown. A 2010 RITA® Award finalist and 2005 Golden Heart® Award winner, she lives in Idaho with her husband and children.

Also by Jennie Lucas

The Consequences of That Night

The Sheikh’s Last Seduction

Uncovering Her Nine-Month Secret

Nine Months to Redeem Him

A Ring for Vincenzo’s Heir

Baby of His Revenge

The Consequence of His Vengeance

Carrying the Spaniard’s Child

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Claiming His Nine-Month Consequence

Jennie Lucas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07172-7

CLAIMING HIS NINE-MONTH CONSEQUENCE

© 2018 Jennie Lucas

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Pete: my hero today and every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

ARES KOURAKIS!

As rhythmic music and lights pulsed across the dark, hot dance club, the whispers of his name grew louder, building to a roar. The famously handsome Greek billionaire had come to Star Valley at last.

Ruby Prescott rolled her eyes at all the excited chatter and awed stares being directed toward the shadowy VIP section. A handsome billionaire? Yeah, right. In her experience, billionaires were always ugly—if not on the outside, then definitely on the inside. No man became that rich without seriously warping his soul.

But she had more important things to worry about. Bartending was Ruby’s third job today, after a morning teaching skiing to four-year-olds and an afternoon working at a clothing boutique. She couldn’t stop yawning, and she still had a whole night of work ahead. Stretching to wake herself up, she moved across the bar, pouring drinks as quickly and carefully as she could.

“Ares Kourakis,” one of the waitresses, Lexie, breathed across the bar. “Can you believe he finally came?”

“It would be stupid if he didn’t, after buying a house here.” Ruby had been on that house’s cleaning crew, too, six months earlier, right before the man had bought it for the reported sum of thirty million dollars. Nice place, if you liked your ski lodges fancy and as big as a football stadium. Pouring another beer and setting it on the bar, Ruby said sourly, “And what kind of name is Ares, anyway?”

“He’s so handsome and rich, he can have any name he wants. I’d be Mrs. Ares Kourakis in a second!” Staring toward the dark corner of the bar, Lexie fluffed up her hair. “I’m so lucky he’s sitting in my section!”

“Very lucky,” Ruby replied sardonically, “since I heard he just broke up with his girlfriend.”

“Really?” Lexie’s face was ecstatic. Unbuttoning another button on her white shirt, she picked up her tray and hurried toward the VIP corner.

Ruby continued to pour drinks behind the bar. The Atlas Club was busy tonight, the last night of the March film festival that made the town even more crowded than usual.

Billionaires weren’t unusual in Star Valley, a ski-resort paradise in the Idaho mountains and a playground for the rich and famous. The busiest time was Christmas, when wealthy people brought their families to ski, and July, when the famous McFallon and Company CEO conference caused a fleet of private jets to descend on the valley like bloated metal vultures blocking out the sun.

But Ruby knew, just as there was no such thing as free drinks, there was no such thing as Prince Charming. The richer and more ambitious a man, the darker his soul.

Another waitress hurried up breathlessly to the bar. “I need three mojitos, one no sugar, one pomegranate, one extra lime and she said if the mint isn’t muddled right, she’s sending it back.”

Ruby sighed. At least wealthy men, unlike their girlfriends and wives, generally stuck to ordering uncomplicated drinks, like scotch on the rocks. Turning away, she swiftly made the cocktails. As she placed them on the tray, Ruby saw a young blonde in a tiny red dress trying to inconspicuously scoot past the bar.

“Ivy?” Ruby said incredulously.

Her nineteen-year-old sister flinched, then turned. “Um. Hi, Ruby.”

“You can’t be in here! You’re underage! How did you get past the door?”

Her cheeks flushed red. “I, um, told Alonzo that there was an emergency with Mom, and I had to talk to you.”

Panic went through Ruby. “Is Mom—”

“She’s fine, I swear. She was sleeping when I left.” Ivy squared her shoulders. “But I heard Ares Kourakis is here.”

Oh, no. Not her little sister, too. “You can’t be serious!”

“I know you think I’m just a kid. But I have a plan.” Ivy lifted her chin. “I’m going to seduce him. All I have to do is poke a few holes in the condom, get pregnant and he’ll marry me. Then our troubles will be over.”

Ruby stared at her sister in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “No.”

“It will work.”

“You’d risk getting pregnant by a man you don’t even know?” she gasped.

Ivy narrowed her eyes. “I have a chance for everything I ever wanted, and I’m going to take it. Unlike you. You keep talking about your big dreams, but you don’t do anything! You’re just a coward!”

Staring at her little sister, Ruby caught her breath, feeling like she’d just been punched. You’re just a coward...

“I’m going to live the life of my dreams,” Ivy continued. “No more worries about bills. I’ll have jewels and live in a castle.” She looked at her elder sister contemptuously. “Maybe you’ve given up on your dreams, Ruby. I haven’t.”

Five years younger than Ruby, Ivy had always been the spoiled baby of the family. But looking at her now, in a tight red dress and stiletto heels, Ruby realized with a chill that her sister had grown up to be freakishly beautiful. She might actually have a chance to succeed at her awful plan.

“Don’t do this,” she breathed. “I can’t let you do this.”

“Try to stop me.” And Ivy disappeared into the crowd.

For a moment, Ruby couldn’t move. Exhaustion, shock and fear, never far away since their mother’s diagnosis, clouded her vision like too many punches to the head.

Ivy’s plan to trick Ares Kourakis into marriage was just a joke, surely. Her little sister had always been allergic to hard work, but even Ivy wouldn’t sell her body—her soul—to a man she didn’t love just because he was rich!

Would she?

“Wait,” Ruby cried, and started to follow her, only to crash into the other bartender, causing an empty bottle of vodka to fly off the shelf and smash to the floor behind the bar. As the other bartender cursed loudly, she heard laughter and mocking applause from patrons at the bar.

“What’s wrong with you?” Monty, the other bartender, hissed.

Heart pounding, Ruby wordlessly grabbed a broom and quickly cleaned up the glass. She turned to Monty. “Cover me.”

“What? Girl, are you crazy? I can’t take over all the—”

“Thanks.” With an intake of breath, she headed for the darkest corner of the bar. A chill went down Ruby’s spine at the memory of her baby sister’s voice.

All I have to do it poke a few holes in the condom, get pregnant and he’ll marry me.

Squaring her shoulders, Ruby strode toward the VIP section. Up on the platform a few feet above the rest of the club, past the man’s glowering bodyguard, she saw her sister in the bright red dress, already ensconced cozily at a table with a brutally handsome dark-haired man. Ares Kourakis.

As if the Greek billionaire felt Ruby’s gaze, he turned.

Dark sardonic eyes glittered in the darkness, cutting through her. She felt a flash of heat. Catching her breath, she shivered with a strange fear. Even the man’s name was dangerously sexy, starting with the Greek god of war and ending with a kiss.

She shook herself. What was wrong with her? She mocked her body’s reaction. The rumors about him were true. The man was handsome. So what? It just meant he’d be even more selfish. Even more heartless.

She wasn’t going to let him ruin Ivy’s life, and possibly a baby’s.

Tightening her jaw, Ruby went grimly forward.

* * *

Ares Kourakis, thirty-six-year-old billionaire, sole heir of the Kourakis shipping fortune and the most famous playboy on six continents, was bored.

He surveyed the dance club. Even here, in the remote mountains of the American West, he was bored by the same old expensive scotch, the same old pounding electronic music, all boringly unvaried from Stockholm to Singapore.

All the women in dance clubs were exactly the same, too. Oh, their looks varied, of course, as he traveled around the world. But the type of girls in clubs was always the same: model thin, model beautiful, perfectly made up with long hair, short skirts and high heels.

And whether their eyes were brown or blue or black or green, they always glittered with the same hunger: willing to do anything—be anyone—to possess him.

His money. His status. His body.

That last one, Ares usually hadn’t minded so much. He generally took advantage of whatever was offered as casually as another man might enjoy dessert after dinner. He didn’t feel guilty, either. Gold diggers knew what they were doing. They hoped to lure him through sex into the permanent misery of marriage. But he knew how to play the game. He lazily enjoyed the sensual delights when they were offered and just as quickly forgot them when they were not.

Ares was good at the game. For many years, he’d enjoyed it. Until recently.

He’d been so busy over the winter, traveling constantly to get a new business acquisition under control, that he’d been unable to even visit the luxurious ski lodge he’d purchased in Star Valley months before. He’d thought he might enjoy having a place to relax, far from the demands of New York. But as was typical, after buying it he’d been too busy to use it. Then his mistress, Poppy Spencer, had begged him to accompany her to the Star Valley Film Festival, where she’d secured a viewing of her first film.

Poppy was beautiful and tiny, blond and glamorous, in her midthirties. A trust-fund baby, she’d never had to work and floated through potential careers, quitting whenever they got boring or difficult. Last year, in the middle of all the awards-season parties in Hollywood, she’d decided she should be a movie star. Declaring auditioning as “tedious and embarrassing,” she’d financed a movie herself, as the writer, producer, director and sole actor. Three hours long, filmed as a monologue in black-and-white, it was a hugely important film—Poppy had told Ares so repeatedly. In fact, as they’d flown to Star Valley on his private jet a few days before, she’d groused that this tiny film festival wasn’t big enough for her groundbreaking artistic achievement.

Poppy had been mortified last night when her film had been roundly panned—even booed—by the audience. Weeping profusely at his ski lodge afterward, she’d demanded that he fly her immediately to Nepal, so she could “disappear forever.” She’d paused midsob, brightening as she mused the possibility of hiking to the top of Mt. Everest alone, thereby becoming a famous mountaineer.

When Ares had declined to drop everything and fly her to Nepal, she’d accused him of being unsupportive of her dreams and broken up with him. She’d left Star Valley in such a huff, she’d even been willing to fly economy class.

But Ares had stayed. He’d just gotten to Star Valley. He liked the little town, and he’d barely spent any time at his brand-new house. He hadn’t even had a chance to snowboard, and though the late-March sun was swiftly melting the snow, he wanted at least a few hours on the mountain, damn it, before he headed for Sydney tomorrow on business. Why on earth would he go to Nepal? Especially since he knew within months Poppy would announce she hated mountaineering and instead wanted to be a forensic anthropologist like some character on a TV show?

Poppy could be occasionally amusing, and was good in bed. More important, she’d never made emotional demands, never asked him about his childhood or appeared interested in his thoughts or feelings unless they related to her. She was strictly surface level, which suited him perfectly. With his busy schedule, they’d often gone weeks without speaking to each other between social events.

Ares suddenly realized he was glad she’d left last night. He’d been bored a long time. Not just with Poppy, but with everything. Everyone. He’d spent the last fourteen years turning the shipping empire he’d inherited at twenty-two into a vertically integrated worldwide conglomerate that sold and shipped everything from minerals to motor oil. Kourakis Enterprises was the love of his life. But even his company had somehow lately become...uninteresting.

Grimly, Ares tried to push away the feeling. He’d spent today on the mountain as he’d wanted, with the bright sun, melting snow and icy wind. But even that hadn’t been as enjoyable as he thought it would be. He’d heard his name whispered wherever he went. Women skied into his line of vision, giggling and tossing back seductive glances, cutting him off and forcing him to change his path so he didn’t crash into them or veer off into a tree. He’d ended the day more irritated than he’d begun.

So tonight, his last night in Star Valley, he’d decided he needed to go out. Perhaps his mood would improve after a passionate encounter with some attractive woman he’d never have to see again.

But now, as Ares looked blankly across the VIP table at a young blonde telling some long, boring story, he knew he’d been wrong.

This had been a mistake. All of it. He should just go. Leave for Sydney tonight. Tomorrow, he’d tell Dorothy to put the ski lodge back on the market.

“Excuse me,” he said curtly, startling the blonde in the middle of a sentence. He tossed money on the table to pay for the single glass of scotch, barely tasted, left here a few minutes ago by the vapidly smiling waitress. Looking away, he started to rise.

Then he froze.

Across the club, he saw her.

Time seemed to slow around him as a jolt of electricity went through his body. The flashing lights, thumping music, frantic dancers all became just noise, mere smudges of color. Only she was in focus. This woman.

Not a woman. A goddess.

Glossy dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and huge, fringed by thick black lashes. Her full, heart-shaped lips were deep red.

She was dressed differently from the other women. Instead of tight, short, low-cut clubwear, she was innocently sexy in a simple cotton gingham top, sleeveless and secured with a casual tie at the waist. It caressed the hourglass curves of her body, from her full breasts to her tiny waist, expanding to full hips sheathed in feathery-soft jeans.

And the goddess was coming straight for his table.

Ares’s throat went dry.

Straight for him.

His bodyguard stopped her at the bottom of the stairs. It was only when she turned to speak to Georgios that Ares felt able to breathe again.

The young blonde at his table had continued chattering nervously about something or other. He’d forgotten she was there. Sinking back into his chair, he said abruptly, “You should go.”

“Go?” The blonde gave a foolish grin. “You mean to your place?”

Not listening, he made a rough gesture to his bodyguard, who let the gorgeous brunette pass.

Dark-haired and sloe-eyed, the goddess climbed the few steps toward him. He stared at the sway of her hips. What was it that drew him? Her earthy sex appeal in those seemingly modest clothes, like a 1940s pinup? Her incredible body, her soulful eyes?

Whatever it was, she drew him like a flame. Boredom was suddenly the last thing on his mind. His breathing was hard as she came forward. And not only his breathing.

But the brunette barely looked at him. Instead, she turned accusingly to the blonde girl at the table.

“All right. Let’s go.”

The girl, who suddenly looked defiant as a teenager, snapped, “You’re not the boss of me, Ruby!”

Ruby. A beautiful fairy-tale name for a woman who looked like a brazen princess who could tempt any man into eating a poison apple. Ares didn’t mind her possessiveness, not in this case. It was all he could do not to push the other girl out of the chair himself. But he forced himself to say courteously to the blonde, “Yes, you need to go. I’ll be glad to buy your drinks for the night, but—”

“Drinks?” Ruby turned her angry glare on him. Ares felt the same jolt, the one that left him electrified and breathless. “My little sister is underage, Mr. Kourakis. How dare you offer her alcohol?”

“Your sister? Underage?” Frowning, Ares looked at the blonde girl, then back at the goddess. She stood over the table in a fury, taking quick breaths. Understanding dawned. “Is that why you came up here?”

Ruby scowled. “Believe me, I’m doing you a favor, Mr. Kourakis. Ivy had this fantastic idea of seducing you and getting knocked up so you’d marry her.”

Ares’s jaw dropped; not at the plan, but at the honesty.

“Shut up!” the girl yelled. “You’re ruining everything!”

“She wanted to marry a billionaire. Any billionaire would do.” Looking at him, Ruby tilted her head, her expression almost contemptuous. “Please excuse her for being stupid. She’s only nineteen.”

The look she gave him spoke louder than words: What kind of man your age would date a teenager?

She made him feel ancient, at the age of thirty-six.

“I hate you!” the blonde cried.

She turned sharply to her sister. “Ivy, go home. Before I have Alonzo toss you out so hard, you bounce on the sidewalk.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” But looking at her, Ivy’s defiance fled. “Fine!” Rising to her feet, she stomped away.

“And don’t even think about telling Mom what you tried to do!” Ruby yelled after her. She glanced back at Ares, humor curving her deliciously full lips. “Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Kourakis. Have a good night.”

As she turned to leave, he grabbed her wrist.

Her skin was soft and caused heat to flood through his body. He heard her intake of breath when he touched her.

Ares looked up at her. “Wait.”

“What do you want?”

“Have a drink with me.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Then what are you doing at a bar?”

“Working. I’m a bartender.”

She worked for a living? He looked at her capable hands. “Take a few minutes. Your boss will understand.”

Her frank dark gaze locked with his. “No.”

Ares frowned. “Are you upset because I was talking to your sister? I was never interested in her.”

“Good.” She pulled her wrist from his grasp. “Please excuse me.”

“Wait. Your name is Ruby? Ruby what?”

Glancing back, she gave a low laugh that he felt all the way to his toes. “There’s no point in telling you.”

“But you know my last name.”

“Against my will. Everyone is talking about you. Apparently you’re quite a catch.” Her voice was sardonic.

Ares had never been brushed off so thoroughly by any woman. He tried to understand. “You are married?”

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“I’m working.” She enunciated the word as if she thought maybe he’d never heard it before. “And the waitstaff will be needing their drink orders.”

Ares stared at her. “You would truly rather work than have a drink with me?”

“If I’m not pouring drinks, it hurts everyone’s tips. Which hurts everyone’s ability to pay rent. Not everyone,” she added sweetly, “owns a thirty-million-dollar house bought with cash.”

So she’d noticed his house. Even the price. Encouraged, he stretched out his arm suggestively along the top of the seat next to his. “Most other women would quit their jobs on the spot to spend an evening with me—”

“So have a drink with one of them,” she said, and walked down the steps without looking back.

Ares sat for several moments in stunned silence, alone at the VIP table. He dimly heard the thumping music. He barely noticed as women in tight dresses and stilettos continued to parade below the platform, dancing provocatively for his benefit. He glanced over at Georgios. His bodyguard rolled his eyes. Exactly what Ares was thinking, too. Same music. Same club. Same people.

With one exception.

Who was this Ruby, and why could he suddenly not imagine any outcome tonight that didn’t end with her in his bed?

Rising to his feet, Ares told Georgios, “You can go.”

His bodyguard brightened. He was probably thinking of calling his wife back in New York, who was no doubt up late with their new baby. “Should I leave the car?”

“I’ll find a ride home. But tell the pilot I want to leave first thing in the morning.”

“Of course. Good night, Mr. Kourakis.”

Turning, Ares stalked through the nightclub. Dance music pounded in waves, colored lights blurring in the dark, sultry heat as crowds of people parted for him like magic. Men looked at him with envy, women with desire. But he had only one object. One goal.

When he reached the bar, a free chair immediately appeared for him, as such things always did. He slid into it as his due.

Ruby looked up from where she was pouring drinks behind the bar. Her lips parted in surprise, then annoyance. “What are you—”

“Tell me your last name.”

“It’s Prescott,” a waitress said nearby. At her glare, the girl continued in a squeak, “Ruby Prescott.”

At last they were getting somewhere. Tilting his head, Ares said, “Nice name.”

“I don’t think you can criticize,” she snapped. “What kind of parents would name their child after the Greek god of war?”

“My parents,” he said flatly. He changed the subject. “I’m bored with scotch. I’ll have a beer.”

She blinked in surprise. “A beer?”

“Whatever you have on tap.”

“Not some expensive forty-year-old scotch? Just regular old beer?”

He shrugged. “I don’t care what it is. As long as I’m having that drink with you.”

Ruby scowled, and quickly poured him the cheapest beer, making sure to leave lots of foam. Taking the glass, he slugged back a long gulp, then wiped the foam from his mouth. “Delicious.”

Her scowl deepened as she turned away, moving around the bar, fixing drinks with impressive speed. He could see why she dressed in a sleeveless cotton shirt. The club was warm, and she moved so swiftly from the bottles to the well drinks, grabbing glasses and ice, it was almost athletic.

Ares nursed his beer, watching her work. Her full breasts were spectacular, yes, but every last bit of her was amazing. His gaze traced appreciatively over her softly curved arms. Her backside was nicely curved, too. He’d never seen any woman with such an hourglass shape, and her bottom was something a man could really hold on to. He nearly groaned at the erotic images that suddenly filled his mind.

But it wasn’t just her curves. Ruby Prescott had other, more subtle charms. Her thick black lashes, now fluttering with irritation against her pale skin. The tremble of her lips, ruby red like her name. She frequently bit them in concentration as she worked. His eyes traveled over the sweep of her long hair, dark as a raven’s wing, tumbling down her back. The curve of her bare shoulder. The angry gleam of her dark eyes, which suddenly met his accusingly.

“Why are you doing this? Is it some kind of game to you?”

“Why?” he asked, sipping his cheap beer. “Is it one to you?”

“If you think I’m playing hard to get, you’re wrong.” Standing directly in front of him on the other side of the bar, Ruby glared. “For you, I’m impossible to get.”

Her expression was fierce, her dark eyes glinting like a lightning storm over a dark ocean. Her chest rose in quick, angry breaths. She didn’t even realize her beauty, he thought. She had no idea. And unlike everyone else in the world, she wasn’t at all impressed by him.

And in that moment, Ares knew he had to have her.

Tonight.

Whatever it took.

Whatever it cost.

He would have her.

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT WAS THIS stupid Greek billionaire trying to do?

Ruby’s body felt strangely tight as she turned to pour a drink. She could feel his hot gaze trailing over her body.

She couldn’t imagine why a man like Ares Kourakis would be paying attention to her. He could have any woman here—starlets attending the film festival, ski bunnies, rich debutantes just in from the French Alps. He couldn’t possibly be interested in a regular girl like Ruby.

But why else would he be sitting at the bar, not looking at anyone but her and meekly drinking the worst-tasting beer in the world?

She couldn’t think of any other reason.

People were starting to notice, too. Monty and the waitstaff were constantly sneaking glances while the female customers sitting at the bar looked as if they’d happily stab her with their olive picks.

Ruby served up two gin and tonics, a screwdriver and a rum and Coke, then turned on him angrily. “Seriously,” she hissed, bending closer over the bar. “What is your problem?”

Ares’s gaze bored into her. “You.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You’re the most desirable woman in the club. You fascinate me.”

She saw the dark hunger in his eyes. A flash of heat traveled through her body. She had little experience with men, but she would’ve had to be blind not to see that he wanted her.

Her gaze traced over him. The hard edge of his jaw, rough with five-o’clock shadow. The rough curl of his short dark hair. The rhythmic thrumming of his powerful fingers against the wood bar. She was aware of him in a way she didn’t want to be. Aware of everything, even the way her own knees felt suddenly weak beneath her.

He’d caused that just by looking at her. Just by telling her she was desirable. She’d thought she couldn’t fall for any rich man’s charm. That she was too smart to fall for it.

But was she? She felt strangely intoxicated, though she hadn’t had anything to drink. She felt like she was in a dream, though she was awake. This man, so handsome, arrogant and wealthy—so out of her league—had made just the barest effort and her whole body quivered, as if on his command.

What was wrong with her?

And, oh, sweet heaven, what would it do to her if he actually touched her?

What would it feel like if he lifted his hand from the bar and stroked her cheek? If his fingertips traced down her throat? If he cupped his hand gently around her breast?

Ruby’s nerve endings zapped with shock, her nipples tightening beneath her cotton bra. A sweet low ache coiled low and deep inside her. She put her hands on the bar to steady herself.

“What...” The words caught in her throat, and she swallowed, her voice suddenly shaky. “What do you want?”

His dark gaze fell to her lips. He smiled.

“Dance with me.”

Dance with him? This Greek god whom everyone else was losing their minds over? Ruby caught at the tendrils of her sanity. “No.”

“Why not?”

Don’t ever believe anything a rich man tells you. Her mother’s sad voice came back to her. They are liars, all of them. Liars and thieves.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby squared her shoulders and managed to say in a calm, strong voice, “I don’t dance.”

“You don’t dance? You don’t drink? You are old-fashioned.” His eyes slowly traced her body, making her cheeks hot in spite of herself. “I could teach you,” he murmured. “When is your break?”

She gripped the edge of the bar. “No, thanks. I just work here. It’s not what I do for fun.”

Ares tilted his head thoughtfully, taking a sip of his beer. “What do you do for fun?”

“I...” Ruby tried to remember. It had been a long time since fun was on her agenda. Even before her mother got sick, before Ruby had taken three jobs to provide for their family, she’d been busy after school, taking care of Ivy and running the house, back when their mom was the one who’d worked three jobs. Ruby blinked. Fun?

Ares covered her hand with his own.

“Tell me what you’d do.” His voice was low, persuasive. “If you could do anything in the world tonight.”

At the touch of his powerful hand over hers, a tremble went through her, as violent as a hard flood of rain across hot, parched earth. A bead of sweat formed between her breasts.

How could he make her body react like this just by putting his hand on hers?

Pulling away, Ruby muttered unwillingly, “I’d be up on the mountain.”

“The mountain?”

“Some of the other ski instructors are running Renegade Night.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s no night skiing at the resort, so before the season ends, just when the snow’s starting to melt, we run our own the old-fashioned way. Tonight’s the last full moon.”

“Is the moon so bright?”

“We also use torches.”

Ares’s eyes sharpened with interest. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t. It’s locals only.”

“I see.” Finishing the beer, he put the glass down on the bar. “Good to know. Thanks for the drink.”

Tossing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar, Ares left without another word.

Ruby stared after him, her mouth round with surprise. All she’d wanted him to do was leave her—and Ivy—alone. But now he had gone so abruptly, she felt oddly deflated.

“Wow.” Monty, the other bartender, snorted beside her. “That was cold. What did you say to make him practically turn and run?”

Ruby’s cheeks went hot. She quickly turned to restock the clean glasses. “He just wanted a beer.”

“Obviously.”

A waitress hurried up with another drink order. Dazed, Ruby poured three shots of tequila, and had just put them on the tray when the lights of the club suddenly turned full-on. She blinked, blinded by the bright light. There were groans of shock across the crowd as the music, too, was turned off.

Paul Vence, the wizened former musician who owned the Atlas Club, appeared on the dance floor in all his purple-leather-wearing glory.

“We’re closed for the night,” his voice boomed, surprisingly loud for a man so short. “Everyone out!”

The customers and the staff looked at each other in bewilderment.

“Out! Now!” Mr. Vence looked at the bartenders and staff. “Don’t worry. All of you will still get paid for the night. Tips included.”

The staff brightened considerably. “Shall we start cleaning up?” Lexie asked.

“It’s been handled. You can all just go.” His beady gaze focused on Ruby. “Especially you.”

And with an intake of breath, she knew.

Tell me what you’d do. If you could do anything in the world tonight.

Ruby felt a tingle at the back of her neck as customers slowly started to file out, muttering and moaning. With the lights on so brightly, the club looked plain, with bits of trash on the floor. The men suddenly appeared disheveled, their clothes wrinkled; the women had smudged mascara and tired eyes. The illusion was over. The magic of the nightclub—the music, the darkness, the flashing colors—was gone.

The waitstaff, on the other hand, were practically singing with joy in the changing room, chattering happily about how they’d spend their unexpected free night. As Ruby went back to retrieve her coat from her locker, she lingered, waiting until the others had left. She tried to tell herself she was crazy. Imagining things. There were plenty of other possible explanations.

But as she left the Atlas Club, he was waiting for her, as she knew he’d be.

The sidewalks had already grown quiet on the snowy street, as the last of the clubgoers and staff disappeared in the cold night to the nearby Settler, called the Sett for short, or other bars in the tiny mountain resort town.

Ares Kourakis was leaning against a streetlight, dressed in black, surrounded by snow. Butterflies filled her belly at seeing him.

“You did that, didn’t you?” she said accusingly.

Ares gave her a careless smile. “What if I did?”

She shook her head. “The club would have made a fortune tonight. How much did you pay Mr. Vence to close?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“And you made sure the staff had the night off. Paid. With tips and everything.”

“I knew it would kill your pleasure if they didn’t.”

Ruby’s voice croaked as she asked, “But why?”

“I told you.” He came closer beneath the street lamp, until their bodies were only inches apart. With his greater height, he towered over her. She squared her shoulders desperately beneath her vintage jacket, refusing to back an inch, but she couldn’t hide the rapid rise and fall of her breath. Reaching down, he tucked back a tendril of her long dark hair. “I want to be with you tonight.”

Be with her. Be with her? Looking up, she tried to glare at him. “Do you always get what you want?”

His dark gaze poured through her soul. “Yes.”

She swallowed. “But—but why?” she whispered. “Why me?”

“I told you. You’re incredibly beautiful.”

“Most of the girls in the club were way prettier than me.”

His expression changed. “You’re different.”

Ruby shook her head helplessly. “Different how?”

“You weren’t trying to get my attention.”

Ah. Now she understood. She felt suddenly, incomprehensively disappointed. She wasn’t special after all. Somehow he’d almost made her hope—

Cutting off the thought, she lifted her chin. “So you’re a spoiled child in a roomful of toys, throwing a tantrum over the one toy you can’t have.”

He drew closer, looking down at her.

“Your refusal only drew my attention,” he said huskily. “It wasn’t the only reason. Something about you...” His gaze fell to her lips, and for a second she thought he might kiss her, right then and there on Main Street. She shivered, holding her breath as he said, “Take me up on the mountain.”

Take me. Up on the mountain. She gulped.

“I can’t,” she breathed. “It’s...locals only...”

“You can.” His voice was so persuasive she felt like she couldn’t say no. In fact, she could barely remember what no meant.

Ruby took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sure you’re a great skier, but—”

“Actually I’m not. I suck at skiing.”

Her lips parted in astonishment, both at the assertion and that any arrogant man would admit to being bad at something. “Then why would you buy a house here?”

Ares looked at her. “There are other things I enjoy.”

His voice was low, making her shiver in the cold night. He wasn’t even touching her, but she felt electrified, half on fire. It had never felt like this with Braden, not once, not even when he’d kissed her. Even when he’d proposed to her, he’d never made her feel like this.

Run, her mother’s voice warned inside her. Run as far and fast as you can.

Instead, as Ruby looked up at Ares beneath the diamond-sparkled winter moonlight, she heard herself say, “Do you have ski clothes?”

His cruel, sensual lips curved. “Of course.”

She snorted. “But they’re probably some expensive designer, aren’t they? Brand new? In black?” When he didn’t deny it, Ruby shook her head. “I’ll find you something else.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“No one can know I’m bringing you up on the mountain. They’d be furious. Think you can keep your mouth in check and be inconspicuous and quiet?”

He looked insulted. “I can be inconspicuous when I choose. In fact, I’m amazing at it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just do your best, okay? If anyone asks, you’re my cousin’s best friend from Coeur d’Alene. Come on.” Motioning him to follow, she led him to her old, beat-up SUV parked on a side street. She opened the passenger-side door with a squeal of rusted metal. She had to wrench the handle just right to get it open.

Ares looked at the truck dubiously.

“Not scared of a little worn upholstery, are you?” she challenged.

“That truck is older than I am.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

“You’re right. Get in.”

Going to the driver’s side, Ruby climbed in. He slid in beside her on the bench seat, then slammed the passenger door shut with a clang. It actually latched. She was impressed. Most people weren’t strong enough to close it unless they knew the trick. She looked at him.

Ares looked out of place sitting on the worn bench seat in his elegant black cashmere coat and well-cut white shirt and black trousers. She hid a smile. If he was bothered by her old truck, just wait till he saw what she planned for him to wear up on the mountain. Her smile spread to a grin.

“Ruby?”

Starting the engine with a low roar, she glanced at him. “Yeah?”

Ares caught her gaze beneath the moonlight. “Thank you.”

His dark eyes burned through her. Her grin faded. Looking away, she muttered, “It’s no big deal.” Glancing over her left shoulder, she twisted the steering wheel and pushed on the gas. “I’m just going to stop at my house and pick up some ski clothes for you.”

“Whose are they? Your brother’s? Your father’s?” He paused. “Your lover’s?”

“I don’t have any of those things,” she said, staring forward at the road. “My father deserted my mom before I was born. It’s just my mom, my little sister and me.”

“The same little sister who planned to seduce me?”

He sounded amused, but her cheeks burned. She could only imagine what he thought of Ivy. “Don’t judge her. She should be in college, having fun. Instead, she spends most of her time in a sickroom. Our mom’s been sick a long time. And Ivy doesn’t even remember her father. He died a long time ago.”

“You and your sister have different fathers?”

She looked at him fiercely. “So?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I think fathers are overrated. My own was a piece of work.”

Slightly mollified, she changed the subject. “Did you grow up in Greece? You don’t really have an accent.”

“I was born in Greece. But most of my life I’ve lived elsewhere. New York, mostly.” For a moment, silence fell as she drove the truck down the thin sliver of highway going through the moonlit, snow-covered valley. Then he said, “In my experience, all fathers do well is pay the bills.”

With a snort, Ruby shook her head. “My father never paid a single bill for us. Neither did Ivy’s.”

He frowned. “What about child support?”

“They found ways around it.”

“But legally...”

Gripping the steering wheel, Ruby looked at the road. “It’s complicated.”

He turned away. “You don’t have to explain.”

She glanced at him, her mouth curving with humor. “What is that, reverse psychology?”

“No. I really don’t need to know. I don’t do complicated.”

Ruby’s lips parted. “What do you mean, you don’t do complicated?”

“Just that.”

“How do you have relationships, then?”

“When my relationships get complicated, they end. I don’t do love, either. I don’t even know what it is.”

He sounded almost proud of that fact. “Is that why you broke up with your girlfriend?” Ruby asked. He gave her a sudden searching glance, and she ducked her head, embarrassed at her own curiosity. “Sorry. Everyone was talking about it at the club.”

“No. Poppy didn’t need me to love her. That was one of her best qualities. But her debut film didn’t do as well as she hoped at the festival. She wanted me to fly her to the Himalayas on some mystical experience to seek redemption. I declined. She left. End of story.”

Ruby turned her truck off the highway.

“Where are you going?”

“Star Valley’s expensive. Most of the people who work there can’t afford to live there. I live in Sawtooth.”

“How far?”

“About twenty minutes more.” Turning her truck onto a rough mountain road, she glanced at him. “I heard you have a private jet.”

“I have a few.” His voice wasn’t boastful, just factual.

Her eyes went wide. “A few jets! What’s that even like?”

He shrugged. “They get me where I need to go.”

In Ruby’s one flying experience, traveling to Portland to visit an old high school friend, she’d been stuck in a middle seat in economy, between two oversize men who took her armrests and invaded her space. The flight had arrived an hour late, and her suitcase had arrived twelve hours after that.

Thinking of what it might be like to have one’s own private fleet, she shook her head, a little awed in spite of herself. “I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It must be hell.” Tilting her head, she gave him a cheerful grin. “Your friends must be always hitting you up for rides. Nagging and begging all the time.”

The corners of his lips curved upward. “Actually, they don’t. Most of them have planes of their own.”

That brought her up short.

“Oh,” she said faintly. As she changed gears, her old truck rattled and coughed smoke behind them. “I live just up here.”

Ares turned to look out the window, and unwillingly, her eyes lingered on his silhouette. The hard line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He was so handsome, she thought. So masculine. So powerful. So everything she was not.

Then, following the direction of his gaze, she saw her neighborhood with fresh eyes. The trailer park was small, tidy and well maintained. Ruby’s neighbors were kind and hardworking, but the trailers looked old and plain, with snow piled haphazardly on the road. The flowers that made the street so beautiful in summer were nowhere to be seen in winter. And her neighbors’ cars, like her own, had all seen better days.

As she parked in front of her own family’s single-wide mobile home, she saw how careworn it had become. But good people lived in this neighborhood. Good people who worked hard. Telling herself she had nothing to be ashamed of, she put her truck into park and turned off the engine. “Would you like to come in?”

Ares’s darkly handsome, chiseled face held no expression. “To meet your sick mother and the little sister who was planning to trap me into marriage?”

“Right. You don’t do complicated.” She tried to keep her voice light, even as her cheeks burned. “I’ll be right back.”

Closing the door solidly behind her, Ruby went into her home. The living room was dark. “Ivy? Mom?”

“I’m in here,” her mother’s voice called weakly.

Ruby hurried into her mother’s small bedroom and found Bonnie propped up in bed, a small television blaring from an opposite shelf. Pill bottles were on her nightstand table, along with an untouched plate of food.

“Mom! You didn’t eat!”

“I wasn’t...hungry,” her mother said apologetically. Her voice was small, and she paused to take breaths sometimes between words. “Why are you...here?”

“I got out of work early, so I’m going up on the mountain for Renegade Night.”

Her mother beamed at her, her kind blue eyes shining.

Ruby hesitated. “I’m, um, bringing someone. A man I just met.” She bit her lip, but she wasn’t used to hiding things from her mother, so she finished reluctantly, “That Greek guy who bought the thirty-million-dollar house.”

The smile slid from Bonnie’s wasted face. “No.” She shook her head weakly. “Rich men...cannot love...”

“Don’t worry,” Ruby said quickly. “It’s not like that. We’re not on a date. He just helped me get the night off, so I’m returning the favor by bringing him on the mountain. I’m sure I’ll never see him again.” Lowering her head, she kissed her mother’s forehead. Drawing back with a frown, she touched Bonnie’s forehead with her hand. “You feel cold.”

“I’m fine. Ivy said...be home soon.”

“She called you?”

“She...was here. Changed to...jeans. Out with friends. Pizza.”

Ruby hoped that was true, and that Ivy wasn’t trying to get into some other club downtown. But if she’d changed into jeans, that was unlikely. And she knew Ivy wouldn’t be on the mountain. She hated winter sports with a passion. “I could stay with you.”

“Go,” Bonnie said firmly. “You deserve...fun. You always take care...of us.” She took a rasping breath. “Go.”

“All right,” Ruby said reluctantly. She squeezed her mother’s hand and smiled. “When I get back tonight, I’ll hopefully have funny stories to share. I love you, Mom.”

“Love...you...”

Ruby hurried down the hall to the oversize closet, where she stored all the interesting vintage clothes she’d collected over the years, in dreams of someday starting her own business. Now, let’s see, where had she put it? Digging through boxes, she finally found what she was looking for and grinned. She could hardly wait to see Ares’s face.

CHAPTER THREE

SCATTERING SNOW AS he twisted his snowboard to a stop halfway down the mountain, Ares straightened, looking back.

The night was clear and dark with stars. He could see his breath in the cold air, illuminated by moonlight and the slow trail of fire-lit torches of skiers zigzagging single file down the mountain. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Or maybe he had.

Ruby came to an abrupt stop next to him on her snowboard, pelting him with a wave of snow. Her face was indescribably beautiful as she laughed merrily, her cheeks pink with cold, her eyes sparkling bright.

“For a man who claimed to suck at skiing,” she observed, “you’re pretty good.”

“This is snowboarding. I never claimed to suck at snowboarding.”

“Flying down the hill like that, I thought you’d break your neck. No doubt causing anguish to starlets and lingerie models everywhere,” she added drily.

He grinned. “Don’t forget the swimsuit models.”

Her trash talk reassured him. He knew if she’d been underwhelmed by his snowboarding skills, she would have instead been patronizingly kind. He was relieved, since he’d nearly broken his damn neck trying to stay ahead of her.

Ares looked back at the torchlit parade. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I’m happy to be here.” Looking at him, she said softly, “Thank you, Ares.”

Hearing her low, melodic voice speak his name, he felt a strange twist in his heart. Was it her beauty? Was it the winter fantasy around him, the sense that he was a million miles away from his real life?

It was excitement, he told himself. Excitement and lust. And triumph. He was winning her over. She would soon be his.

Ruby gave him a sudden cheerful grin. “No one even recognized you.”

Wryly, he glanced down at his vintage 1980s one-piece ski suit, bright blue with white and red racing stripes. He’d almost refused to wear it when she’d given it to him. Then he’d realized it was a test of sorts, and had taken it without complaint, along with the antiquated snowboard equipment, old goggles and a dark beanie hat from the resort’s lost-and-found bin.

“Perfect,” she’d said when he’d come out of the dressing room, her eyes twinkling with glee. “You’ll fit right in.”

And somewhat to his surprise, he had. The other ski instructors participating in Renegade Night were mostly in their twenties, both men and women, all of them fit and reckless. Even with Ares’s height and broad physique, no one had looked at him twice. Not with two Olympic athletes joining them, Star Valley locals who’d won medals in ski jumping and downhill skiing. And also some famous hockey player, apparently. They were the local heroes. No one had looked twice at Ares in his thick goggles.

It was disconcerting. But also strangely liberating.

Anonymity meant privacy. It meant freedom. That kind of invisibility was exhilarating and new.

Even as a boy in Greece, Ares had been constantly under a microscope, the only child of Aristedes and Thalia Kourakis, the glamorous, fabulously wealthy Greek society couple. His mother was famous for her beauty, his father for his ruthless power, and both of them for their tempestuous marriage, a five-year battle that had ended in a ten-year divorce.

And if they were merciless to each other, they’d been even more so to their only son. They’d used him as a pawn, first in the marriage, then in their divorce, in the court of public opinion. Ares had been recognized, and fawned over, wherever he went, if not for his appearance, then for his family’s wealth and name.

Appearance was what mattered. His parents had taught him that well, spending almost no time with him, leaving him in the care of nannies as they tried to outdo each other by buying him ridiculous gifts. The gifts always came with strings. Like on Ares’s ninth birthday, when his father had bought him a Brazilian aerospace company. As Ares had blinked in confusion—he’d dreamed of a puppy—his father had added casually, “And in return for this amazing gift, I expect you to report on the activities of that whore you call a mother.”

Now, as Ares felt the ice-cold wind of the Idaho mountain whip against his face, he realized he’d never had the chance to cast off his name and everything that came with it—fame, power, yes, but also darkness.

He felt strangely free. Strangely alive.

“Why are you just standing there? Don’t tell me you’re already tired,” Ruby said gleefully.

Ares looked at the beautiful, unexpected woman beside him in the snow. Her cloud of dark hair tumbled beneath her pink hat, knit with a red flower. Behind her, he saw the distant torches of the last skiers, as lovely and mysterious as fairy lights.

He wasn’t tired. At all.

He wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to do far more than kiss her.

Looking at him, Ruby’s expression changed. Her smile slid away. She looked almost...afraid.

“Come on.” Turning on her snowboard, she took off down the hill. She was reckless, jumping moguls. She was a force of nature. Unstoppable.

Ares watched her. He’d possessed many women in his life. He’d taken them as his due. But for the first time, he’d met one who didn’t seem overly impressed either by his money or his appearance. She accepted him—or not—only for himself. For his actions. For his words. For his skills.

He could hardly wait to win her into his bed.

Chasing her, Ares turned the snowboard down and flew.

She reached the bottom of the mountain first. A roaring bonfire crackled in the middle of a snowy field, next to an icy creek. Around it, young people who’d already finished skiing laughed together, holding steaming mugs.

Ares unlatched his snowboard. Lifting his goggles to his ski cap, he straightened, stepping out in the snow in his borrowed boots. Someone he didn’t know handed him a copper mug.

“Here, man. This’ll warm you up.”

Pulling off his gloves, Ares stuffed them in his pockets and took the mug. “Thanks.”

“I’m Gus.” The red-haired man, who had a lumberjack beard, did a double take. “Nice snowsuit.”

Ares scowled, suspecting mockery. But the other man’s eyes were sincere. So he said, “Thank you.”

“Ruby picked that out for you, right? You’re her friend’s cousin or something from up north?”

“Hmm,” Ares said noncommittally. Sniffing cinnamon and clove, he took a tentative sip from the copper mug. He tasted mulled wine, hot and infused with spices. Sighing in pleasure, he took a bigger gulp.

“Right,” Gus said. “That girl has mad skills tracking down vintage stuff. I keep telling her she needs to start that business. All she needs to do is apply for a loan, but she just won’t.”

“A business?” Ares’s eyebrows lifted. He looked down at his outrageous ski suit. “You think people would actually buy outfits like this? On purpose?”

“Oh, yeah, man. Look around.”

He did, and he saw that most of the young people were indeed dressed in funky, offbeat outfits as outlandish as his own.

“Designer gear is for talentless hacks trying to buy their way into the sport.” The red-haired man considered. “Your suit is cool.”

Ares’s gaze fell on Ruby, who was standing on the other side of the bonfire. A broad-shouldered man was talking to her earnestly. “Who’s that with her now?”

The young man nodded toward them. “You know Braden Lassiter is her ex, right? They were engaged until he up and left for the National Hockey League. He plays for New York.”

Ares’s eyes narrowed. “New York?” He strained to remember anything he’d heard about Braden Lassiter, but he didn’t follow ice hockey. But he didn’t like seeing him talking to Ruby. Leaning toward her. “They were engaged?”

“High school sweethearts. Too bad they broke up. If they had a baby, man, that kid would kill it on the slopes, probably win every gold medal.”

Ares stared at them. A moment ago, flying down the mountain, he’d felt exhilarated, even euphoric. Now he felt ice in his solar plexus. What was it? Irritation? Possessiveness? It couldn’t be jealousy. He didn’t do jealousy.

Finishing his drink, Ares handed the mug back. “Thanks again.”

At least he wasn’t the only one who was annoyed. As he walked toward Ruby, he saw Braden Lassiter walking away from her with a scowl on his face. The man paused to stare suspiciously as Ares approached her.

Turning, Ruby saw him. “There you are.”

Ares jerked his chin toward the departing hockey player. “Was he bothering you?”

“Braden?” She rolled her eyes. “His team was playing in Vancouver and he had a free day, so he dropped in for Renegade Night. So of course the second he sees me with someone, he’s suddenly Mr. Twenty Questions, like he thinks he still has some claim over me.”

“You were engaged?”

“Did Gus tell you?” A strange expression crossed her face. “It was a million years ago. When he became an instant millionaire, he disappeared.”

“The bastard.”

“It was a good reminder of what money does to men’s hearts.”

The snow crunched beneath his feet. “And what is that?”

She looked up at him with big, dark eyes that gleamed against the bonfire’s flickering red light. “It makes them selfish. And cold.”

Ares immediately knew the accusation didn’t only include Braden Lassiter. “Or maybe,” he said quietly, “we were always that way from the start, and money just gave us more opportunity.”

She stared at him for a long moment by the crackling fire. Then she sighed, watching as sparks flew up into the dark, cold, starlit sky. “I wish there was no such thing as money.”

Close together in front of the bonfire, he could feel the warmth of the flames against his body. But it was nothing compared to the heat he felt inside as he looked down at her.

“I’m glad there is,” he said. “Because it’s why I’m here with you right now.”

Her lips parted. “I didn’t bring you here for money!”

“I know. But you’d still be working at the bar.” Gently, he stroked down her cheek to caress her lower lip with the tip of his thumb. “I couldn’t have blackmailed you into bringing me here.”

He heard her catch her breath, felt her tremble beneath his touch. So she felt it, too, then. She felt it, too.

“You didn’t exactly...blackmail me.”

Ares looked down at her lovely face, lit up by the firelight. “I didn’t?”

“No,” she admitted, then took a deep breath. “Maybe,” she whispered, “you’re different, too...”

Burning wood crackled in the bonfire as they looked at each other. He heard the burble of the creek, the soft drop of snow falling from pine trees, the wind blowing through the valley.

The fire glowed in her expressive dark eyes, even as the other side of her dark hair was laced silver by moonlight. Silver and gold, he thought. Why did Ruby continually remind him of a princess from a fairy tale? A sexy fairy tale that ended with them naked in each other’s arms. She obliterated his every thought except need...

Ares cupped both sides of her face, beneath her jawline. Her skin, chilled by the cold air, warmed beneath his hands. He felt her tremble as her delectable, cherry-red lips parted, as if in invitation.

Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her.

Sweet, so sweet. Her lips were satin soft, and tasted like sugar. They tasted like heaven. He felt her shiver. Her lips caused a delicious fire to roar though him, building higher and higher, until his body was blazing from within.

Then, reaching her hands around his shoulders, she started to kiss him back.

The fire inside him exploded. With a low growl, he pulled her hard against him, forgetting all the others milling around them, forgetting everything else in the world but the taste of her sweet lips and feel of her curvaceous body against his.

As if from a distance, he heard the low shouts, lazy applause, yelled encouragements and commentary from the people around them.

“Get a room,” someone hooted.

“I thought he was her cousin,” someone else said.

“Who is he?”

“Oh, my God, is that...Ares Kourakis?”

The last words broke the spell, and as a branch snapped loudly in the fire, he felt Ruby stiffen in his arms. But he wouldn’t release her.

Tangling his hands in her hair, Ares murmured, “Let’s get out of here. Come home with me.”

Her face looked stricken, almost dazed, as she glanced around at her friends. Licking her lips, she whispered, “I—I shouldn’t.”

“Just for one drink.”

“I told you. I don’t drink.”

He grasped at straws. “We haven’t eaten anything all night. You must be hungry. Let me make you dinner.”

“You cook?”

Growing up with a house full of servants, Ares had never cooked in his life. But he wasn’t going to admit that now. “I’ll make you something amazing.”

The edges of her lips curved upward. “How amazing?”

He looked her straight in the eye. “The best you’ve ever had.”

Her eyes widened at his obvious implication. Glancing right and left self-consciously, she said in a low voice, “I can’t.”

His dark eyebrows lifted. “I took you for the kind of girl who doesn’t care what other people think. Only about her own pleasure.”

She choked a laugh. “What made you think that?”

He held her gaze. “When was the last time you put yourself first?”

“Tonight. Being here with you.”

“And before that?”

She paused. “It’s been a while.”

Pulling her more tightly into his arms, he looked down at her, relishing the feel of her against him in the cold night. “You can have anything you desire.” He stroked his fingertips slowly against her cheek. “All you have to do is say yes.”

Ruby’s pink cheeks turned redder still. She said unsteadily, “You’re just saying that trying to get what you want.”

“Of course I am,” he said frankly. “I want you, Ruby. I haven’t tried to hide it. Or the fact that I’m selfish and ruthless...”

Lowering his head to hers, he kissed her until she was left shivering in his arms and clinging to him for balance.

“Stop,” she breathed when he pulled away, again to more hooting from her friends. “I’ll come.”

Triumph filled him. “You will?”

She looked at him helplessly. “For dinner. Nothing more.”

But that was a lie, and he knew it. The way she’d kissed him, she had to know full well that food would barely be an appetizer on their sensual menu. But if her pride needed that ridiculous self-deception, he’d be the last man to argue the point.

As she gathered her gloves and said a quiet thank-you to her friends, he watched her hungrily. He could still feel her mouth against his. Still taste her lips. Waiting was agony. Every moment they weren’t naked felt like eternity.

Tucking both their snowboards under his arm, Ares followed her down the short path to the quiet, snowy lot where her beat-up truck was parked. She hesitated, giving an unsteady laugh as she looked back at him.

“I don’t think I can drive.” She lifted a hand to her forehead. “I feel a little wobbly. It’s been a long day. Maybe I have low blood sugar. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I’ll drive.”

“You were drinking.”

He gave a low laugh. “Two sips of scotch, half a beer, and a mug of mulled wine, over four hours.”

“My truck can be tricky—”

He took her keys. “I’ve got it.” Unlocking the back, he tossed in the snowboards. He opened her door and helped her climb onto the bench seat, next to a canvas duffel bag filled with their regular clothes. Touching her hand, he felt her tremble. Or was he the one trembling?

He stomped on the thought. It was ridiculous.

Ruby Prescott was just another woman. A woman like any other. Once he possessed her, once the attraction was consummated, he would be satisfied. He could leave for Sydney tomorrow and not give her another thought.

Ruby was different from the rest, yes.

But not that different.

* * *

Ruby had never believed in fairy tales. She couldn’t. Not growing up as she had.

Her mother was the kindest, best person on the planet. Bonnie always saw the best in people and believed good things were just around the corner. She believed if you worked hard, had faith in your dreams and took care of others, you would be happy.

Her mother had been wrong.

In spite of being so good, in spite of being so kind, Bonnie had suffered bad luck and misfortune. Her parents, Ruby’s grandparents, had died before Bonnie was nineteen, leaving little savings. Unwilling to leave her hometown, she’d become a waitress the summer after high school. She was trying to save for college when she was swept off her feet by a resort guest, a handsome millionaire visiting from Buenos Aires. Bonnie had thought it was true love, just like she’d always dreamed of. But when she became pregnant with Ruby, instead of being delighted and proposing marriage as Bonnie had hoped, the man had screamed in her face, tossed a few hundred-dollar bills in her face for an abortion and left the country, never to return.

Bonnie had moved into a trailer with cheap rent, temporarily she’d thought, trying to raise her baby daughter on minimum-wage jobs, still hoping she could improve their situation. Instead, when Ruby was five, her mother had fallen in love with another wealthy hotel guest, this one a Texas oilman ten years Bonnie’s senior, whom she hoped might be a good father to Ruby.

Over the course of an entire winter of visits, he’d told Bonnie he loved her. He hadn’t always wanted to use a condom, and believing they’d soon be married, she’d reluctantly acquiesced. But when summer came and she discovered she was pregnant, he wouldn’t marry her. “I’m married to my comp’ny, darlin’,” he’d said with a smile, in his charming cowboy drawl. And as for child support, he’d taken her in his arms and tenderly asked her not to make any legal claim. “Just wait a little while. Till this next oil field pans out. Then I’ll take care of you and that lil’ baby, don’t you worry.”

But he never did. He just stopped coming to Star Valley, and ignored Bonnie’s increasingly frantic messages. Before Ivy was even born, oil prices suddenly collapsed, and his overextended company was forced into bankruptcy. Unable to face the total loss, he drove his car into a telephone pole, in a fiery death the coroner obligingly marked “accident.”

After that, Bonnie had learned her lesson. She’d told her daughters again and again never to trust anything a rich man might tell them.

And look what good it had done, Ruby thought. Ivy still dreamed of hooking a rich husband. And Ruby herself, as a foolish eighteen-year-old, had nearly married Braden, who’d abandoned her the second the ink on his NHL contract was dry.

Fairy tales weren’t real. Romantic dreams were poison. Men who seemed like handsome princes were just lying, trying to lure sensible young women into love—and doom.

What had love ever done for her mother except destroy her ability to follow her own dreams, leaving her heartbroken and poor?

What had it done for Ruby other than leaving her alone and humiliated at the altar?

Ruby was just relieved that Braden had left her when he had. When their love was still innocent. Before they’d married, or worse, had a child. But she had no intention of ever trusting a rich, ruthless man ever again.

Then, tonight, Ares had kissed her.

It was the kiss Ruby had dreamed about, even while telling herself that romantic dreams were lies. The kiss she’d been waiting for all her life.

He’d held her tightly beside the flames of the bonfire, beneath the cold, bright stars, and when his lips had touched hers, she’d forgotten all her sensible plans and promises.

There was only this.

Only him.

Now Ruby glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as he drove her old truck down the snowy road. Her gaze lingered on his sensual lips, and she felt her own tingle in memory of his embrace.

Her eyes traced unwillingly over his strong arms, as he changed gears; over his strong thighs, as he pressed on the gas. She’d never let anyone drive her truck before, but she’d had no choice tonight, because her own knees felt so weak, for reasons that she knew had nothing to do with hunger or snowboarding.

Ares was right. She was hungry. After so many years being strong for everyone else, she felt like she’d been starving for years, on a treadmill of unending work. There’d been no color. No joy.

I took you for the kind of girl who doesn’t care what other people think. Only about her own pleasure.

A shiver racked Ruby’s body. But she couldn’t let herself be tempted. He’d already told her outright that he was selfish and ruthless. He didn’t do complicated. Why would she be foolish enough to believe any love affair between them, even a one-night stand, could end any way but badly?

And yet...

Staring at him, her heart was pounding. She felt danger. Pleasure. Excitement. In this moment, she couldn’t think straight. All she could do was feel.

She was tempted. Even knowing herself for a fool. She wanted him. His kiss had overwhelmed her senses. Her toes still hadn’t uncurled in her boots.

Ares glanced at her. His black eyes glinted in the darkness, and heat flooded her body. Then he turned away as he steered the truck onto a small private road, and she exhaled.

All right, so maybe she’d become a modern-day spinster, a twenty-four-year-old virgin who worked too much and, as her little sister had pointed out, who had apparently given up on her dreams. But if Ruby truly wanted to change that, if she wanted to take her first lover, it would be better to proposition Monty or even Paul Vence himself rather than let herself be seduced by the selfish, arrogant Greek billionaire everyone else wanted. Whom even her baby sister had wanted.

As if on cue, Ruby heard her phone ringing from her canvas duffel bag. Digging through neatly folded clothes, she looked at it and saw Ivy’s number. Guilt rushed through her. After the way she’d prevented Ivy from sleeping with Ares, the word hypocrite didn’t even seem large enough to describe how her sister would see Ruby’s actions right now. She pressed the button to decline the call.

“Everything all right?”

Ares’s voice was sensual, low, and it did crazy things to her insides. “Everything’s fine.” Biting her lip, she took a deep breath and said in a rush, “But I think I changed my mind about dinner and I should just go home—”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes—it is—”

Ares stopped the truck abruptly in the middle of the dark, empty road. Turning off the engine, he looked at her.

“You’re lying.” His hot dark gaze pierced her from across the worn bench seat. “There’s no way you want to go home. Not after the way you kissed me.”

She shrugged, trying desperately to play it cool. “I guess the kiss wasn’t totally bad...”

“Bad?” He looked incredulous.

“...but it was just a kiss.” She was proud of the way her voice held steady, as if his embrace beneath the winter sky hadn’t twisted her body inside out and turned her heart upside down, leaving her weak and yearning.

“We both know it was more.” His voice held an edge. “You felt it. I felt it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He looked astonished, then angry. Moving across the truck’s bench seat, he grabbed her by the shoulders, looking down at her fiercely. “Before I met you, I felt bored by everything and everyone. But now there’s one thing I can’t stop thinking about. One thing I have to have. At any price.”

Ruby’s heart was pounding. He was saying everything that she felt, deep in her soul. Trembling, she choked out, “I thought you didn’t do complicated...”

“This isn’t complicated. It’s simple. I want you to come home with me tonight. And I know you feel the same. Why are you trying to deny it?”

As their eyes locked, her phone started to ring from her bag. Glancing down, she saw it was Ivy again. Ruby looked from the phone to him, torn between reason and desire.

I know you feel the same. Why are you trying to deny it?

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