Why Resist a Rebel? by Leah Ashton Page A

himself that question—if that was what he’d done, and who he was—he couldn’t disagree.
    They ate their salmon for a while in silence, their knives scraping loudly on the fine bone china.
    ‘Is this really what you wanted?’ she asked. She was still focused on her meal, her eyes on her plate, not on him.
    She meant this date, this time alone with her.
    ‘Yes.’
    Now she glanced up. The harder edge to her gaze from before was gone; now she just looked confused. ‘Seriously? Why on earth would you want to spend an evening with a woman who doesn’t particularly like you?’
    ‘I thought you said you didn’t know me well enough to dislike me.’
    She raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ve begun to revise that opinion.’
    He smiled. Maybe something resembling his famous Dev Cooper smile, as he didn’t miss the way her cheeks went pink, or how eager she was to look away.
    ‘You like me.’
    Instantly, she met his gaze. ‘Here we go again. It’s getting tedious. Why on earth should I like you?’
    ‘I’m charming,’ he said.
    She snorted. ‘What exactly is your definition of the word? Blackmailing a woman into dating you? Really?’
    ‘No. I must admit this is not my standard dating procedure.’
    ‘For the sake of the thousands of women you’ve ever dated, I’m relieved to hear that.’
    ‘Not thousands,’ he said.
    She waved her wine glass in a gesture of dismissal. ‘Hundreds, then.’
    No, not that many either. In hindsight, maybe Estelle was not the first to observe his relationship failings. Or, more likely, she was the only one he’d allowed close enough to notice.
    A mistake, clearly.
    ‘I’m not—’ he began, then stopped.
    I’m not myself at the moment.
    No, there was no need to say that to Ruby. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? For Ruby to be his distraction?
    ‘You’re not what?’ she asked.
    He gave a little shake of his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re here now.’ He leant back in his chair a little, studying her. ‘We’re here, in this amazing city, at this amazing restaurant. And you, Ruby Bell, are wearing one amazing dress.’
    The pink to her cheeks escalated to a blush, but otherwise she gave no indication of being affected by his words.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said, just a little 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