Bound by the Millionaire's Ring(10)

Not his usual urbane reaction, but he was incensed. Shaken. Utterly  feral in that moment, unnerving himself and terrifying pale faces into  backing off with wide-eyed alarm.

Oscar, his day guard, was right there, arms spread to ensure the press  of bodies gave them room to reach the car. Ramon slid Isidora into the  back seat and threw himself in behind her, slamming the door to lock  them in. His heart jammed and his temperature redlined.

"What the hell?" he groaned as Oscar leaped into the passenger side and  the driver took off down the street, pressing them into their seats.

"I had no indication-" Oscar stammered.

"It's because you quit racing for me," Isidora said in a small,  breathless voice. She was white as a sheet, looking back through the  rear window at the uprising they had barely escaped.

"Qué?" He couldn't process that she had an answer when his security guard didn't.

"Some, um..." She cleared her throat, visibly trying to regain her  composure as she faced forward and folded one trembling hand over the  other. "Some of your fans think your proposal was romantic, but some are  blaming me for their favorite driver leaving their favorite sport."

"You knew this was brewing and didn't warn me?" The top of his head nearly came off.

"I started seeing the posts a few minutes ago." Her face was drawn, her  tone distraught. "I was going to tell you now. When I saw you."

"It's protocol to forward security concerns the second threats are recognized."

"When they target you or your siblings. They weren't saying anything  against you, so I..." Her eyes nearly ate up her face at whatever was in  his expression. Her voice became so thready, he barely heard her. "I  didn't think-"

"No. You didn't. You put me in danger, Isidora. All of us." He waved at  Oscar and his chauffeur, then pulled out his phone and connected to the  man who held the contract for Sauveterre security.

"We need a full detail for Isidora. Everything my sisters have."

A preliminary backup team was immediately organized to join them at the  restaurant. A promise was made to have everything in place by morning.

"I thought they were just trolls," Isidora muttered.

"And I thought Trella's kidnapper was just Gili's math tutor. Anything  could have happened back there." He was still beside himself, his  thoughts in the darkest places because he had learned the hard way that  those places were real. "You could have been trampled. Beaten. Thrown  into the street under a car. Stolen and raped and killed. You should  have warned me."         

     



 

What if that had happened? What if it had been his fault?

She pushed back into her seat, lips white, chin crinkled, eyes blinking  hard. Her knees were pressed together tight, her painted fingernails  clutching her elbows. With a little sniff, she turned her face away and  her throat flexed.

"Scared? You damn well should be!"



She hated him so much. And she would not-would not let him make her cry.

"Whose fault is it that they hate me?" she choked out. "Yours."

"You think I don't know that?" he roared.

She jolted and even the driver was startled because the car juddered before he smoothly changed lanes and carried on.

With a curse, Ramon leaned forward and closed the privacy screen.

"This is why I'm such a bastard. This is why I don't compromise. This is  why I can never be the man you wanted me to me." He sat back, fist  hitting his thigh. His voice held a note of uncharacteristic defeat. "I  could never ask a woman to put up with this for the rest of her life."

Your brother did, she wanted to snap out, but Henri and Cinnia had  broken up and only came back together when Cinnia was noticeably  pregnant. If she hadn't been carrying a Sauveterre, Isidora was pretty  sure both brothers would have remained bachelors their entire lives.

She privately believed Henri had been glad to have the excuse to get  back with Cinnia. He had sounded indescribably pleased when he had told  Isidora they were married, but Ramon seemed resolved in his detachment.

And looked surprisingly lonely in it. He stared ahead, his profile a study in carved planes and stark shadows.

"I'm sorry," she said in a subdued tone.

"You should be."

Why did she even bother? She looked out her window again, shoulders  aching where she refused to let them slouch, trying not to breathe so he  wouldn't hear her sniff.



As he waited for Isidora outside the powder room on the top floor of the  Makricosta Elite, Ramon was more keyed up than before a race.

He had set her up for harm with his proposal.

From the time he was fifteen, after Trella had been stolen and  recovered, he had settled into a mostly unspoken agreement with his  brother. Neither of them would pursue a serious, long-term relationship.  A Sauveterre wife, and most especially a child, would be endangered  simply by carrying their name.

Cinnia's accidental pregnancy had forced his brother to change his  mindset, but Henri had had feelings for Cinnia from the beginning,  whether he had admitted to them or not.

Ramon kept his heart far more guarded. The logistics of protecting the  people he cared about was a big responsibility, but that wasn't the only  reason he refused to marry. He had the money and resources to ensure  the best if it came down to it. No, the real issue was the emotional  cost. The idea that a woman he cared about, or a child he loved, could  be taken and harmed as Trella had been, closed such a fist of terror in  Ramon, he could barely withstand it.

He didn't like being that vulnerable. He was very judicious in how much  he cared and for whom. It was why he strove for indifference in his  sexual relationships.

His proposal to Isidora had been a stunt. It was supposed to look  gallant. In the back of his mind, he'd been aware that extra security  precautions would have to be taken. Any woman who was attached to him  was entitled to his protection. His team knew the drill.

But this sort of attack? The preliminary report on the social-media  diatribe had since come through and the vehemence against Isidora was  unnerving. Ramon felt like an idiot-not something he was used to. He was  furious with himself for not anticipating it. He knew how much evil  existed in this world. How had he not guessed this could happen?

Fear for her pierced his thick shields and maintained a thorny hold on  him. He did what he could to alleviate it by biting out terse orders at  his guard. "Send a team to her apartment. She's not going back there.  She'll stay with me."

Oscar nodded as he texted.

She emerged, pale with stark shadows in her eyes, and checked when she  saw him. Whatever was in his grim expression made her sweep her lashes  down to hide her thoughts before she lifted her chin.

"You didn't have to wait for me. I'm perfectly capable of finding my way to the table without getting egged."

It hadn't even occurred to him to go ahead. He thought of all the times  Trella had asked him to wait outside a bathroom door, suffering panic  attacks so debilitating she had been afraid to be alone for five  minutes. For once it had been his own apprehension that had kept him  standing sentry.

"Let's not test that."

She flinched at the rasp in his tone.

He grimaced, but only waved at her to precede him.         

     



 

The maître d' greeted them warmly and showed them to their best table,  where a bottle of Dom Pérignon stood chilled and ready. The table was  set with bone china, gold cutlery and gold-rimmed champagne flutes. Rose  petals adorned the white cloth. Three glittering candles stood sentinel  over a delicate spray of white orchids with pink centers. The exotic  blooms curled around a small velvet box in a fragrant embrace.

Which is when Ramon remembered placing a request for some pageantry this  afternoon, after Isidora had looked so pithy about his making a  reservation, like she knew damn well he didn't call restaurants himself.

He didn't, but he had a competitive streak a mile wide. It demanded he prove someone wrong even when they were right.

"I'll give you a moment." The maître d' retreated.

Isidora said nothing, just stood there staring, freshened lipstick seeming stark against her pale face.

In his periphery, he noted that people were openly watching.

"It was supposed to be a joke," he groaned beneath his breath.

"I know." Her voice was faint. She brought her hand up to steady her trembling mouth. The sheen on her eyes grew thicker.

She'd had a shock, he realized belatedly, and he'd been treating her  like the altercation at her building was her fault. It wasn't. It was  his fault, for being who he was. Nothing could change it, either. He had  had come to grips with that years ago.

She, however, had been on the sidelines. Until today, she hadn't known  how it really was, and that was only the tip of the iceberg.

He reached out on instinct, pulling her trembling body into his.

She stiffened, arms cool and hesitant as they tucked like bent wings  into the space beneath his jacket, against his rib cage. He smoothed a  hand down her tense back, startled by how slight she felt. This spine of  hers was hammered steel. He'd seen it in the way she had shown it to  him for five years.