"You should." Her voice was thick with emotion. "Thank you, Ramon."
"For shaving?" He knew what she meant, but the moment was too charged for his liking. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable when we kiss at our party."
Completely leveled, Isidora tried to gather her composure.
I'm sorry. Such small words, spoken so quietly, but the impact was huge. Her throat felt swollen and her heart ran like a freight train in her chest.
When she heard him come back a few minutes later, she still couldn't look at him, too moved. Too overwhelmed. She checked that she hadn't chewed off her lipstick and swept out the door he held open for her. It wasn't until they were in the elevator with their guards that her gaze tracked to his in the mirror they faced.
"I thought you were going to shave?" He looked quite the ruffian in a tuxedo with that five o'clock shadow. Very devil-may-care. If he loosened his bow tie her knees would unhinge completely.
He made a face and scraped his palm against his cheek. "My razor broke."
"We could have one sent up. Do you want to go back?"
His guard, Oscar, extended a finger toward the panel.
"There's no point. I know what the problem is and something else will happen to stop me. Resistance is futile."
"What do you mean?" She turned from the reflection to the man. "I noticed you've been wearing stubble more often lately. I thought it was a fashion choice."
"A fashion choice," he repeated with a choked noise, clearly offended. "No. I'm not being lazy, either."
"What then?"
"I don't want to tell you. You'll laugh." His lip curled, but the way he eyed her sent rising bubbles of amusement into her chest.
She made a show of holding a bored expression and glancing at her nails. "I heard a rumor that was a goal of yours, but whatever..."
The doors opened to the lobby, putting an abrupt end to what had been the beginnings of very enjoyable, lighthearted flirting. The dull roar of conversation filled the space on the second floor, where a chandelier hung amid a gallery of masterpieces in gilded frames.
They stepped out and Ramon halted her with a touch on her arm.
"Come here, then." He veered her from the throng crowding the marble floor around the fountain and drew her into a small kiosk. It had probably held a telephone at one point, but now housed a terminal for airline check-ins and other online tasks.
It was close quarters. She brought her hands up to rest on his lapels, conscious of the hard wall of his chest.
"What, um-" She hadn't been this close to him since sitting astride him. The sting of a blush crept into her cheeks. She looked to the sliding door he had pulled closed behind them.
"It's new-father syndrome. I've seen it with our executives. They look like they're coming to work after a terrific bender, but it's just a fresh baby at home."
That surprised her into looking up with a confused frown. "Is there something you haven't told me?" She cocked her head. "Because I must say you're being very hard on your sister."
"Not me. My brother." He lightly cupped her elbows and his thumbs drew restless patterns against her skin, making a shiver run up her shoulders and into her chest, sensitizing her nipples. She tried to ignore it.
"You want me to believe that Henri is forgetting to shave so you are, too?" She shook her head. "The universe broke your razor?"
"Do you think we dress alike because we think it's cute?"
"You're businessmen. The uniform is a three-piece suit. Of course you'll grab the same white shirt now and again."
"And the same tie? And the same shoes?"
She shook her head. "I'm not as gullible as those people who think twins are psychic." Lowering her brow, she asked with suspicion, "Are you psychic?"
"No." Amusement played around his mouth.
He really had a beautiful mouth. The seam of his lips was quite wide, but his upper lip was defined with two strong peaks, while his bottom lip was smooth and full, inviting a nibble.
"Isidora."
She'd never heard her name spoken in such a husky, sexy tone. When he cupped the side of her neck, she felt as though her body fell away. She became something ephemeral, pulse throbbing against the heat of his hand on her throat as his green, green eyes held her in thrall.
"You accused me of wanting you because you're convenient, but that is so far from the truth. My brain is telling me not to wreck the peace we've finally made, but I can't stop thinking about what we started. About how passionate you are. You. It's not convenient at all."
She grew hotter with every word. Beyond the door, one of the guards said something.
"I think someone wants in here," she said, desperate for escape before she did something stupid, like fall all over him again.
Ramon's hand dropped from her neck, leaving a chill that increased as he opened the door.
The indirect lighting against the yellowed facade of the hotel, along with the candles floating in the pool, cast a warm glow over the bricked area that had been roped off all the way to the beach. A string trio played for the reception portion, to be replaced by a livelier dance band after the champagne toast.
Paparazzi had already bribed their way into positions along the velvet rails and off some balconies, determined to snap photos of the celebrities Ramon had deliberately invited. He could have held the party in the privacy of Sus Brazos, but that ultrahigh security would have defeated the purpose. This party was the event of the year, intended to dominate the society pages so Trella wouldn't.
His sister arrived in a subtle maternity gown, choosing to let a picture speak a thousand words. Ramon sincerely hoped her plan to bury the news amid the spectacle of his engagement worked.
Letting go of his responsibility toward either of his sisters was easier said than done. At least Angelique was in good hands. Ramon had no doubt Kasim would die before allowing harm to come to her. He certainly had the resources to kill anyone who tried, but Ramon still did a quick scan to note where his sisters stood with their mother, a collective of guards on hand. Kasim, unruffled yet ever alert, stood at Angelique's side.
His shy little sister was a queen. Ramon still hadn't taken it in. Along with Henri and his babies, she now had too much responsibility to drop everything and rush to Trella's side when necessary. It was all on him.
The weight of that might have pushed him into grim introspection, but a sudden burst of laughter from Isidora yanked like a sweet hook in his heart. It wasn't just the tinkling sound that turned his head. He wanted to catch the way her eyes sparkled.
His breath stalled and he found himself smiling in reaction. Satisfaction and something more tender rolled through him. He hadn't destroyed that light in her after all.
"You knew!" she accused, squeezing his upper arm through his jacket and bumping into him at the same time, so he felt the press of her breast. "Did you call him?"
"Who?"
She waved at where Henri was coming toward them with Cinnia.
"Ah." It could be argued that all tuxedos looked alike, that pleated shirts were de rigueur with one, but he and his brother both owned several penguin costumes. Despite that, he would bet their collective fortune that the same designer label was sewn into every article they both wore tonight. And Henri had not shaved.
They looked as they too often did-like mirror images. Their sisters regularly turned themselves out with individual looks unless they consciously chose to copy each other. Why the hell could he and Henri not manage it?
As was often the case, Henri knew without a word being spoken what Ramon was thinking. He shrugged. "I had to get Cinnia out of the house before they woke up and noticed she was gone. There wasn't time to shave."
Cinnia was a little more voluptuous than she had been before pregnancy, but it suited her. She rose on tiptoe to press her cheek to his and wrinkled her nose at his stubble. "He had a different shirt on. Then Rosalina spit up and he had to change."
"This is a setup, isn't it?" Isidora looked between the identical men, skeptical. "I mean, it was a safe bet that Henri might not have shaved, but..."
"I've seen it happen more times than I can count," Cinnia assured her, then picked up her husband's hand and said cheekily, "Be careful, Ramon. Henri wears a ring now."
Cinnia knew the engagement was a stunt. She didn't speak so loudly she risked exposing the ruse, but none of them laughed. Isidora blushed and dropped her gaze. Ramon felt a familiar clench of protectiveness, but it was directed toward someone different, which was such a new sensation it was disconcerting. Like the sensitive skin beneath a freshly removed cast.
"What-?" Cinnia began.
Henri tucked her under his arm and spoke over her. "I'll get the speeches done quickly. I want to dance with my wife while I have her to myself. Especially since we can't stay long." He squeezed her and drew her away.