Bound by the Millionaire's Ring

by Dani Collins

  His expression edged toward thunderous. “Is this you demonstrating how well you know me? Because I’m beginning to doubt your love.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Her love had been born so long ago, it was celebrating double-digit birthdays.

  The corners of his mouth curled, which almost scored another hit, but then he said gently, “That won’t do, will it? The absolute worst thing I could do to you is underestimate how much you care for me, isn’t it? You see? I do know you.”

  He moved backward, but somehow he gathered her off the step and pulled her with him. She instinctively clung, expecting to sink, but his hard, warm body kept her afloat.

  “I know that when you eat, you start with the vegetables. You eat as much of what’s good for you as you think you have to, then switch to what you really want before you get too full and abandon what’s left. You’re always trying to find the balance between what you think you should do against not cheating yourself. Which is why you became my lover. It’s also why you walked away when the cost became too high.”

  She wriggled, trying to find her feet, but he was in control, tapping a side wall so they gently rotated back to the steps. A moment later, he settled on a stair low enough to submerge them to their shoulders, and gathered her into his lap.

  She kept herself sitting up straight, perched on his thighs, trying to ignore the light play of his fingertips against her hip.

  “It’s why you’re holding me off right now, even though I would bet my fortune that you are as physically ready to make love as I am.” A slight shift let her drift in to feel his hard flesh against her buttock.

  She gasped and tried to angle herself away.

  Even though he was hideously correct. A secretive throb was pulsing between her thighs and she had to fight the urge to let her arms twine around him, to let their lips meet and their bodies rub, and deal with the reality of such foolishness in the morning.

  His expression sobered. “I also know you have a capacity for forgiveness that scares me, because I know you’re going to be hurt—by me, by your parents, by some other person who I’ll want to kill for treating you carelessly... I can’t prevent it, though, because you lead with your heart. You’ll always put yourself out there, trying to save the world one bolstering hug at a time. Emotional pain doesn’t scare you. Hurting people, letting them down, scares you. Why is that?”

  She looked down, shocked by that. Profoundly shaken.

  “Was it because your mother was so easily hurt? Because you saw how traumatized Trella was? How broken we all were, and you had to do what you could? That sounds like you, doesn’t it?” His thumb kept up that lazy pattern against her upper thigh. “Generous. So easy to love.”

  “Ramon,” she protested weakly, closing her eyes to hold the burn inside her lids.

  “Why else would I have gone to such lengths to push you away? Hmm? I was half in love with you, scared to death. I didn’t want to love you. No, don’t let that hurt. Listen.”

  He pulled her close even as her face contorted and she tried to press away, trying to turn from the anguish.

  “Listen to me,” he said, mouth against her temple, arms strong around her cringing body, holding her together as the seismic shifts he was sending through her threatened to crumble her apart. “I didn’t want to add to my list of people to worry about and fear for. I didn’t want to put a woman at risk by giving her my name. How could I ask anyone to make children with me so we could fear for them? All of that scares the hell out of me, Isidora. But my love for you is bigger than that.”

  She drew back, mouth pulling at the corners so she had to bite her lips to still their tremble.

  “It’s true,” he said gently, beautiful face open and grave. “I can even tell you the day when my feelings began to overtake my fear. When you refused to dance with me at your father’s birthday, I realized that I might have lost you. You weren’t dead, but I was. To you. I told myself it was for the best, that I didn’t care.” He traced a wet thumb along her jawline. “But I cared. I felt dead.”

  She tucked her chin, sheepish. “I was pretty mad. I really did want to get over you.”

  “I know you did.” He was very, very solemn. “And when Henri hired you, I was so grimly pleased you were being forced back into my life without my having to chase you.”

  “You never chase women.”

  “No, I don’t. But I’ve been hunting for you. I thought I knew how badly I would miss you, but it’s been a living hell, Isidora.”

  She made a scoffing noise and let her body melt into his, seduced by his words, one arm going up to his neck. “You miss the hero worship.”

  “Is that what that abuse was during our engagement?” His mouth quirked as he nuzzled his nose against her chin. “I happen to love that you aren’t afraid to take me down a peg. I’m not an easy man. Living with our kind of attention and security can be a nightmare. You have to be tough to withstand it and the fact you can find a smile in all of that, and make me smile... I’m the one in awe of you, Isidora.”

  She balanced on a razor’s edge, but this time she knew she would fall. One side was hope, the other belief.

  “Is this real, Ramon? Because if—”

  “It’s real, Isidora. Ask me why I spoke to your father.”

  “To ask him where I was?”

  “To ask his permission to marry you.”

  “Did you really?” She teared up, incredibly moved. “He must have been so touched. Thank you for that.”

  She gave in to desire and slid from her balance on his thigh, using the buoyancy of the water to inveigle between his legs, so they were chest-to-chest, her knees bumping between his flatly planted feet.

  She would have kissed him, but he drew back a little. “Is that a yes?”

  “To marriage? Kiss me and I’ll think about it.”

  “Not good enough, mi amor. I want—”

  “I know what you want.” She used her arms around his neck to draw herself up and down his length, pleased when his breath hissed in and his hands tightened on her.

  In a sudden move, he gathered her as he stood. “Bueno. When in Rome...”

  “What?” she prompted as he carried her into the apartment. “You’ll carry me to bed like a concubine?” She could work with that.

  “I declare us married.”

  “You’re not the king. Do you really think it will stick?”

  “I do.” He came down on the bed with her, then lifted his head. “I love you.”

  His expression reflected the vast feelings contained behind the visage, all darks and lights, fears and ferocities and love. Endless, true-as-gold love.

  Her heart had always been his, but in that moment she released it to him, freely and without reservation, confident he would protect it with everything in him.

  “I love you, too.”

  Even though he had known she loved him for what must have felt like centuries, his face spasmed with emotion. He closed his eyes as though savoring the words.

  “And?” he prompted quietly.

  Bossy, bossy man.

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, because this was very serious and very real, she said very sincerely, “I do.”

  EPILOGUE

  ISIDORA WAS WEARING only a black bra, underpants and garters when Ramon walked into their bedroom.

  He came up short, green eyes searing her to the spot as he took her in.

  Heart skipping with instant reaction, she playfully ticktocked her hips as she walked across and stepped into the shoes she’d chosen to go with her dress. They were erotically tall with a hint of bondage in the thick black ankle straps. She slanted him a sultry look over her shoulder.

  “You approve?”

  “Hell, yes. Now I really don’t want to go out tonight.”

  “Oh.” She pivoted to face him. One of Paris’s hottest new nightclubs was having a grand reopening and they were one of the “it” couples always begged to show up at such events. “Why not?”

 
He swore under his breath. “I didn’t mean that to sound—Of course I want to take you dancing. It’s your birthday. I’ve even gone shopping. That’s why I’m late.” He brought across a small box of indigo velvet embossed in silver.

  She opened the box and caught her breath, dazzled by the earrings. “Spoiler!” She went on tiptoe to kiss him.

  His arm went around her, possessive and edging toward dominant as he clasped her close. His kiss was thorough and hot, deeply passionate, leaving her breathless when they finally came up for air.

  “Trying to convince me to stay in? I’m listening.” She leaned into him, enamored as ever, and let her fingers begin to work on his tie.

  But something in the way his mouth flexed into a tight line made her sober.

  “What’s wrong?” She tried to draw back so she could see him better.

  “Nothing.” He held on to her. His familiar expression, usually so readable, was disconcertingly cautious. “Absolutely nothing is wrong. I’m being...impatient.”

  “About what? Did I do something?” Her heart lurched. Their marriage was everything she had ever wished it to be and more. They always seemed to be on the same wavelength, even managing to continue working together despite both having demanding schedules. To hear something was off threw her back into old insecurity.

  “Everything you do is perfect. I’m the one.” He released her and shrugged out of his suit jacket. “I told myself I would wait until you turned twenty-five and this morning, it was all I could do to let you sleep in without saying something.”

  “About what?” He had made love to her before he left for the office, telling her to enjoy her day off, and promised to take her out to celebrate tonight. She had drifted off blissfully, thinking she really was living happily ever after. “Ramon, you’re scaring me!”

  “I’m scared. But I still want to do it. I want to have a baby, Isidora.”

  It took a moment for the words to penetrate, for the meaning to sink in. For her to believe he had actually said them.

  “What do you think?” he prompted, watching her closely.

  She thought he had just given her the best birthday gift ever. Pushing her knuckles against her lips, she tried to keep them from trembling while a bubble of joy pressed for release in her throat. Her whole chest was expanding, putting an excited sting of moisture into her eyes.

  “I don’t know how to read this silence.” His brows lowered with concern as he came closer. “I know it will be hard. Parenting is hard already without that.” He pushed his splayed hand toward the window, where the outside world was always a pressure on his family. Then he took her hand from her mouth and pressed it to his own. “Having you is enough, Isidora. I love you with everything in me. If you think raising a baby in our circus is too much risk, that’s okay. But I’ve been thinking about it for months and had to ask.”

  “Why on earth did you think you had to wait until I was twenty-five?” Her voice came out as strained and unsteady as she felt. Her legs were so weak, she wobbled in her heels.

  “Because you’re that much younger than me. And we’re not a normal family. You needed time to get used to being a Sauveterre. It’s a big ask, Isidora. I know that.”

  “But I love you. Of course I want your baby. I have since...” She shrugged, not the least self-conscious anymore about the way she had idolized him as a child. That love was mature and real now. Strong and eternal on both sides. “Forever.”

  He frowned. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because it’s a big ask.” She slid her arms around his neck, warming her near nude body against his clothed one, loving how he wrapped his arms around her in response, always welcoming her into closeness against him. “It’s been nice having you to myself, being auntie and uncle, running around to see everyone else’s children on a whim. Having you is enough for me. But if you want a baby? Yes, please.”

  “You’re sure? There’s a decent chance it’ll be twins,” he said dryly.

  “Even better.”

  “You say that now...” He picked her up and she clasped her legs around his waist as he took her toward the bed.

  Ten months later, they had a gorgeous little boy with dark hair and green eyes, the spitting of his father and uncle. Two years after that, however, girls arrived with identical auburn locks and gray eyes. Their father shook his head in wry delight.

  * * * * *

  EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT

  When chauffeur Keira Ryan drives into a snowdrift, she and her devastatingly attractive passenger must find a hotel…but there’s only one bed! Luckily Matteo Valenti knows how to make the best of a bad situation—with the most sizzling experience of her life. It’s nearly Christmas again before Matteo uncovers Keira’s secret. He’s avoided commitment his whole life, but now it’s time to claim his heir…

  Read on for a sneak preview of Sharon Kendrick’s book

  THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS SECRET

  One Night With Consequences

  ‘Santino?’ Matteo repeated, wondering if he’d misheard her. He stared at her, his brow creased in a frown. ‘You gave him an Italian name?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because when I looked at him…’ Keira’s voice faltered as she scraped her fingers back through her hair and turned those big sapphire eyes on him ‘…I knew I could call him nothing else but an Italian name.’

  ‘Even though you sought to deny him his heritage and kept his birth hidden from me?’

  She swallowed. ‘You made it very clear that you never wanted to see me again, Matteo.’

  His voice grew hard. ‘I haven’t come here to argue the rights and wrongs of your secrecy. I’ve come to see my son.’

  It was a demand Keira couldn’t ignore. She’d seen the brief tightening of his face when she’d mentioned his child and another wave of guilt had washed over her.

  ‘Come with me,’ she said huskily.

  He followed her up the narrow staircase and Keira was acutely aware of his presence behind her. She could detect the heat from his body and the subtle sandalwood which was all his and, stupidly, she remembered the way that scent had clung to her skin the morning after he’d made love to her. Her heart was thundering by the time they reached the box-room she shared with Santino and she held her breath as Matteo stood frozen for a moment before moving soundlessly towards the crib.

  ‘Matteo?’ she said.

  Matteo didn’t answer. Not then. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to speak because his thoughts were in such disarray. He stared down at the dark fringe of eyelashes which curved on the infant’s olive-hued cheeks and the shock of black hair. Tiny hands were curled into two tiny fists and he found himself leaning forward to count all the fingers, nodding his head with satisfaction as he registered each one.

  He swallowed.

  His son.

  He opened his mouth to speak but Santino chose that moment to start to whimper and Keira bent over the crib to scoop him up. ‘Would you…would you like to hold him?’

  ‘Not now,’ he said abruptly. ‘There isn’t time. You need to pack your things while I call ahead and prepare for your arrival in Italy.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. You can’t put out a call for help and then ignore help when it comes. You telephoned me and now you must accept the consequences,’ he added grimly.

  Don’t miss

  THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS SECRET

  By Sharon Kendrick

  Available November 2017

  PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Copyright ©2017 Sharon Kendrick

  ISBN: 978-1-474-05299-3

  BOUND BY THE MILLIONAIRE’S RING

  © 2017 Dani Collins

  Published in Great Britain 2017

  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. Th
is 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.

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