by Dani Collins
“Oh, please. Once she realized I’d come home, she didn’t say, ‘Oh, by the way, Ramon spent the night, but it was completely innocent.’ She asked how long I’d been there and looked guilty as hell.”
“That—” He pointed at her. “That is the real evidence, isn’t it? You don’t think your mother can’t bring a man home without making love with him.”
True, but that was such a complex issue for her, she refused to go there.
“You’ve hit a hard limit, Ramon. The way my mother lives is not up for discussion. I will walk. And that’s not why I think you’re the scum of the earth.”
His head went back as though the cold iron in her tone caught his attention. After a brief pause, he said, “If you’re thinking I’m the one who can’t spend a night with a woman and not have sex, you’re wrong.”
He was talking about Trella, she supposed. Her friend’s struggle with anxiety was something that turned Isidora inside out every single time she thought about it, but she refused to let herself soften with empathy. To give him the benefit of the doubt.
“You want me to believe that’s what you were doing that night?” She burned afresh with outrage and scorn. “Letting my mother cry on your shoulder? Then why didn’t you say so when we met in the lounge? I asked you what you were doing there and you said she had been looking for company so you came home with her. You knew what I took from that. You knew exactly what I was thinking. If you didn’t have sex with her, why did you let me believe you did?”
“Because you were eighteen and still carrying a torch.” His voice was a sledgehammer. “It had to stop.”
This moment was every bit as hard a hit as that moment had been, completely destroying any shred of hope she might have clung to. For a few seconds, she couldn’t breathe. The agony was that all-encompassing.
She wasn’t still carrying a torch, was she? She would swear she hadn’t been.
Until he had kissed her. Something tentative had begun playing in the back of her mind in the last hour, though. She was waiting for time alone to relive that kiss and properly savor it. To build it into something it would never become.
How pathetic.
He was right. This childish yearning had to stop.
As the silence lengthened, something tickled her cheek. She wiped at it, discovering it was a tear.
He released a heavy sigh, which scored, speaking as it did of his impatience with her intense feelings where he was concerned.
She was equally exhausted by it herself. She really was.
Last one, she vowed. That was the last tear she would ever cry over this man.
Because it didn’t matter if he had slept with her mother or not. What he was telling her, then and now, was that he would never be interested in her. Not as anything but a fake fiancée. A prop for one of his PR tricks.
She had to move on.
She nodded with understanding, feeling disconnected from her body. The muscles around her mouth twitched and she thought she might be trying to smile, but it was the kind that came when the tragedy was too great for any other emotion but laughter at how punishing life could be.
“Tough love,” she said, voice jagged beneath the irony.
He swore and she heard him exchange his empty glass for the one she hadn’t touched. He knocked back that shot and his breath hissed again.
“It was a test. You passed.”
“Because I didn’t turn on you and your family?”
Such a cold bastard. What had she ever seen in him? Aside from his incredible devotion to his family, of course. And his unbending will to win, his lust-worthy looks, his charisma, brilliant intelligence and unwavering confidence.
She wanted to turn on him now.
But she couldn’t. It wasn’t in her to walk away from people who needed her. Even when her own heart was twisted beyond recognition by staying.
That was her specialty, in fact. Wasn’t it? Helping her father and mother navigate the pain they caused each other, standing by both of them while they went through it. She carried on, fractured and battered by a heartrending personal life. Why should her professional life be any different?
Forcing herself to move, she closed herself into the powder room and checked her makeup. There was an emotive redness around her eyes and her lipstick was faintly smudged. She smoothed her hair and used a damp tissue to repair her lips, all the while thinking of the times her father had said he was proud of her. Not just for following in his footsteps, but for other things, too.
That love of his had pulled her through a lot—the devastation of learning he wasn’t biologically her father, for instance.
Bernardo was her anchor, her moral compass, her silver lining in a world too often clouded and stormy. He was the parent her mother was incapable of being.
He would never wind up in such a ridiculous position, but if he had to choose whether to work with a Sauveterre or against one, she knew what he would do: whatever was asked.
He would stay loyal to the offspring of the man who had convinced him to accept the child her mother had passed off as his own.
Isidora owed the Sauveterres for the man she called “Papa,” not that they knew it.
At least, when this was over, she would feel she had settled that debt.
* * *
Ramon savored the subtle bite of the anise, letting the fragrant sweetness roll on his tongue, thinking it was not unlike Isidora’s personal flavor. That kiss. As he finally had a moment alone, he gave in to the memory of driving his tongue into welcoming heat. He had half expected her to drive her knee into his groin, but the kick of her response had been even more devastating. That hadn’t been mere surrender. It had been a chemical explosion that had burned away everything he understood about kisses and women and sex.
What the hell?
He had held many beautiful women. None had sparked such a profound reaction in him. He had lost himself for a moment, absorbed in a vast landscape he instinctively knew would take a lifetime to explore.
Then the insanity of their public location had struck. He’d pulled out of the worst tailspin of his life, dazed and, yes, instantly defensive at having his thick shields penetrated so effortlessly.
If he had realized they were so sexually compatible—
No. He poured a third drink, refusing to go back and reexamine the turns he had already made. That was his brother’s MO. Henri liked to track results on spreadsheets and weigh options as he made projections and charted his next moves. That invariably resulted in accurate predictions that efficiently achieved the result he wanted, but it wasn’t Ramon’s style. He let his gut pick the goal and shot toward it via the swiftest, shortest line, making corrections as problems cropped up.
His aim was to protect his family, first and foremost. Always. He never let his libido distract him. It was a weakness. Strength was his only option. Too many people depended on him, especially now that Henri had a wife and two defenseless infants to look out for.
But Ramon did have weaknesses. Some of them came around annually as a long, dark night of the soul. When he was not in a position to spend those nights with family, he sought company, usually female. That was how he had come to enter a bar in Madrid and find the ex-wife of his father’s best friend, five years ago.
Francisca Villanueva was a delicate soul who carried a lot of pain. He had taken her home to keep less honorable men from taking advantage of her. He couldn’t save her from herself indefinitely, but he could for a night.
She had made him laugh and revealed her own pain, exposing more cracks in her family than he had ever guessed from Bernardo’s composed demeanor or Isidora’s sunny smiles.
Coming face-to-face with Isidora as he left the next morning had been like one of those moments on a racetrack, where a split-second decision had to be made.
Isidora had been making calf eyes at him since adolescence. The longer her legs grew, the more difficult it was to ignore her. Temptation had been closing its grip on him as she blossomed i
nto an ever more alluring woman, but she was too young and inexperienced for the light, temporary affairs he offered.
As her smile of delighted recognition had faded into confusion and suspicion, then betrayal and devastation, he had let the disillusionment happen.
He could have corrected her assumption. He could have told her that his night with her mother had been wine and conversation and a chaste kiss on the cheek when her mother went to bed alone. He could have kept Isidora’s fixation on him alive, but to what end? He was never going to marry her. It wasn’t personal. He would never marry anyone. Children were completely off the table. His siblings might be changing their minds about opening themselves to liability, but Ramon hadn’t and wouldn’t.
So what had been his alternative in that moment? Encourage Isidora to keep mooning after him? Eventually date her, sleep with her, then break her heart? No. He had used the opportunity to cut her off the lane she was on. Cruel, yes, but a type of kindness. She was on track to crash and burn otherwise.
He had not foreseen that Henri would hire her years later, but he couldn’t argue with the appointment. Isidora had grown into a composed, accomplished woman with cutting-edge PR skills, and who possessed wit and intelligence. Most of all, she brought to the table a deep understanding of their family dynamics, allowing them to skip past painful history lessons.
Ramon accepted that she was angry. Hurt even. That she didn’t want to lie about their being engaged. His proposal had been another reflexive move. Cruelty without kindness, but there was no backing out. They would have to make the best of it.
He stroked his thumb on the curve of the glass he held, trying not to fall back into dwelling on how exquisite her response had been. It was a dangerous distraction when he needed to stay focused on what his family needed.
The powder-room door opened and Isidora came out wearing an expression that was both calm and—Was that a light of joy as she let a broad smile take over her face?
It kicked him in the chest. Dios, there really was no ignoring how lovely she was.
“Better?”
His ears rang so loudly it took him a moment to catch the sarcasm.
“You said I could leave when I managed to look happy about this. Good enough?” She dropped her smile.
The radiance in her expression dimmed so fast and sharp, he felt it like the chill when the sun went suddenly behind a cloud.
“You’ll need a retirement party and an engagement party,” she continued matter-of-factly. “Two different ones, to maximize the coverage.” She crossed to where she had left her phone. “We should do something around all the restructuring and promotions, too. We’ll call them team-building sessions, but something visual, like zip lines or a fun run. We’ll link it to a charity for a higher profile. You and I can make appearances, invite the press to watch you shake hands with your new CEOs. If I’m going to all this trouble to snag news coverage, Sauveterre International should benefit. I’ll need a ring. Something flashy. Gaudy, even. The gossip outlets are on ring watch with Angelique so let’s give them something to notice. I won’t keep it, so I’ll arrange a loan—”
“I’ll get the ring,” he interjected, not quite trusting this abrupt switch in attitude. “You’re doing this, then? No more arguing?”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll argue, but you haven’t given me much choice, have you?” She took a moment to set her shoulders and lift her chin, as though bravely facing down a firing squad.
Was it really such a monumental favor? He hitched his hands on his hips, wanting to roll his eyes. “You’ll be compensated.”
“That’s not what I’m after.” She flashed him a cross look, offended. “I’ll always do what I can to help Trella. All of your family. But... How long does this have to last? Three or four months?” Her brow furrowed with calculation. “Once Trella has her baby and Angelique announces her engagement, you and I can have a nice public breakup, yes? Unless something else comes up along the way and we need a story?”
Ramon knew when to push an advantage and when to simply hold on to one, but it still bothered him as he said, “That sounds appropriate.”
“It will make sense that I leave the company when we part ways. You should talk with Henri about how you plan to replace me.”
A reflexive protest rose, but she was right. He would facilitate her finding a good position as part of her compensation. After a suitable period, if they needed her, they could pull her back.
She cut him a glance and briefly bit her lip. The self-conscious color in her face increased. “Etienne would seem the natural choice for my position. If that’s what you’re thinking, I should disclose something.”
He narrowed his eyes, not wanting to believe what had just leaped into his brain. “Continue.”
She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, cleared her throat and smiled flatly. “He expected the promotion into my father’s position. He’s been upset about my receiving it.”
“So? We make our decisions based on what’s best for us.”
“I know, but...” She clicked off her phone. “He worked under my father for the four years I was at school. I’ve never advertised how close I am with your sisters so he doesn’t realize why you chose me. He feels passed over—”
“I don’t care about his dented ego, Isidora. Why would I?”
“I’m telling you why.” She dropped her phone into the pocket of her jacket and smoothed a fingertip along her eyebrow. “If you think he’ll be appropriate to take my job, we should bring him in on this. Tell him the engagement is fake so he feels part of the team. He already thinks I earned my way on my father’s coattails, but he and I used to date and—”
“You slept with that idiot.” For some reason, Ramon had believed she was still a virgin. He knew it was outlandish, but she projected such innocence at times.
She lowered her lashes now, blushing like a new bride.
Of course a woman her age would have had lovers. He didn’t know why it was such a surprise. Maybe because his sisters had never breathed a word about her dating exploits. Her father had spent Isidora’s adolescence closely monitoring her virtue—which was absolutely no surprise given her mother’s behavior. That vigilance of her father had been yet another reason Ramon hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction, but he had honestly believed her attention had never strayed from him.
Despite the pains he’d taken to ensure it would.
So why did it bother him to discover she had followed her urges to other men? Maybe because he couldn’t help wondering if she’d kissed them the way she had kissed him today. Had Etienne enjoyed fully the passion Ramon had only tasted?
Dios. It was one thing to know she had men in her past, quite another to pass the lothario in the hallway. To wonder if she carried a torch for that man.
“Etienne is not an idiot,” she said stiffly. “He’s dedicated and smart, otherwise my father wouldn’t have apprenticed him and I wouldn’t have kept him on. The important piece here is that he could become a liability if not handled carefully.”
Ramon choked out a laugh, astonished by how much aggression filled him—he made his voice as callous and dispassionate as he possibly could.
“You’re adorable. How have I treated you, Isidora? And you have value to me. You think I’m going to put on kid gloves for a spineless twit nursing entitlement issues? What did I say to him before the press conference? As far as the world is concerned, you just became part of my family. If he treats you with anything less than the utmost respect, if he makes one wrong step for any reason, he will lose his job.” It was the same lack of mercy he showed anyone, but the clench in his chest pushed the words out with added vehemence. “More, if I judge him to be any sort of threat beyond rumor-mongering.”
Her lashes went down and her cheeks went hollow.
“Do not even think of telling him that. If he needs it spelled out, his job is already lost.” He couldn’t countenance her wanting to protect the man. Did she still have feelings for him? �
��Only my siblings will know our engagement isn’t real,” he stated, halfway to firing Etienne for no other reason than that he existed. “Otherwise we’ll be dismissed in a day and the press will go straight back to crucifying Trella.”
“Fine,” she said in a small voice. “But I have to tell my father it’s fake.”
“No.”
“Yes, Ramon.” Her lashes swept up, but rather than vehemence, he read a surprising vulnerability. Her voice held a tiny fracture. “He’ll assume it’s a stunt, same as your family did, but he’ll expect me to confirm it. The alternative is for you to ask for my hand like a proper suitor and I won’t let you lie to him. Not about that. It was bad enough you—” Color bled across her cheekbones and she clammed up, jaw tightening.
Said he loved her?
Something seesawed in his chest, but he had to agree. There was too much history with Bernardo. He’d been a true friend to their father and later a very trusted advisor to him and Henri. He couldn’t disrespect Bernardo with any sort of lie.
“I’ll speak to him,” he promised.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“Good. Now let’s get to work.” His thoughts expanded as everything he had come to Paris to implement was now filtered through a fake engagement. He moved to his desk and opened the panel to release the doors, then asked his PA to assemble key personnel in the boardroom.
Isidora lingered.
“I thought you were anxious to escape? Call Julie,” he told her. “She coordinates my calendar with my race schedule. Ask her to plan the retirement party in Monaco. Then join us in the meeting.”
“Yes, fine,” she said, brushing a hand through the air. “But I just want to be clear. No more passes like today.” Her cheeks went bright pink.
“It wasn’t a pass. It was a performance. More will be necessary.”
Her jaw tightened. “Keep it to a minimum. I won’t sleep with you.”
It struck him that he had tied himself to the one woman he shouldn’t sleep with, even if she wanted to—which he had taken great pains to ensure she didn’t. Dios! Celibate? Him? He had to bite back a curse of self-disgust, but as he thought again about how open he’d left himself when he’d had her in his arms, he knew it was better to keep a lid on things.