Bound by the Millionaire's Ring(26)

"I didn't. Gili said she thought something was going on between you two  and you just fell for the oldest trick in the book. Seriously? How could  you?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just traveled twenty hours to come  save you." That's why his wits were so dull. It had nothing to do with a  strange, gnawing ache that kept marking the absence of that sliver of  light he needed like fire needed air. "You don't get to make me into the  bad guy here."

"No." She jabbed the air with a finger. "You keep saying you're doing me  a favor with this engagement of yours, but if you want to sleep with  Izzy, that's on you. Don't claim it's something you're doing to benefit  me."

"Look, what happens between me and Isidora is our business. Why don't  you tell me what's going on here?" He waved his hand at the elegant  parlor. It was a very well-appointed prison tower.

"How many times do I have to say this? What's going on is my business,  not yours. At least I'm not taking advantage of Xavier's feelings. I'm  doing the opposite of nursing false expectations. What are you letting  Isidora believe?"         

     



 

"Stow it," he growled. "I don't answer to you."

"Oh, you do. For some crazy reason Isidora has decided she would die for  us, which none of us deserve, and you think that gives you license to  sleep with her and break her heart?"

"I'm not breaking her heart." His memory flashed with the look in her  eye as they left Rio, the slam of emotion that she had hidden by turning  her back on him. Again.

The pit of his stomach grew heavy. He had pushed her away because he  felt guilty. He couldn't have her and be what his family needed. The  push-pull had made him snap.

But she had known they weren't going to last forever. She hadn't invested her heart in him. Not again.

Had she?

"No, you broke it a long time ago," Trella accused. "She never said how.  She has never once said a word against you to me, because that's who  she is, but I know you did something."

"That was a misunderstanding." He sliced the air with his hand, ashamed  when he thought back on how he had treated her. "We sorted it out."

"Isidora is a good person. She's kind. You don't get to hurt my friend and say it's my fault. Quit leading her on. Quit-"

"Shut up, Bella."

"You shut up."

"No, you shut up-"

The door flew open. A man of about his own age strode in. His commanding  air would have made him the crown prince of Elazar even if Ramon hadn't  recognized his blond hair and red sash beneath a tailored business  suit. Three guards entered behind him.

"Leave quietly or I'll have you removed."

Ramon snorted, hands on his hips, heart pumping hard enough with agitation to want to accept the rougher side of that ultimatum.

"Don't." Trella's weight landed against him and she looped her arms  tightly around his middle, protective for once, not clinging with fear.  "I was saying things he didn't want to hear. We almost never manage to  speak in a civil tone, do we? It's not our way." She dug her chin into  the place above his heart as she batted a sugar-sweet look up at him.  "But we love each other dearly, under all the cussing and yelling. Don't  we?"

Her wrinkle-nosed grin infuriated him, but the vestiges of an emotional  storm still haunted her eyes. He wanted to hug her and yell at her to  quit making his life difficult, same as always.

He looped his arm around her and squeezed gently, mindful of his unborn  niece or nephew. "Who would I fight with if I didn't have you? Gili? She  cries."

"Henri? He lectures. I guess we agree on one thing." She gave him  another hug, then drew back, expression solemn. "Sometimes I need you,  Ramon. All those times you showed up when I called makes it possible for  me to work through this on my own now. I know that you will come if I  ask. That means everything." Her brow lowered to a dark, stern line.  "But until I ask, you have to butt out."

He dropped his arm and held up his hands. "Bueno."

"And be nicer to Iz-"

"No." He held up a finger. "Butting out goes both ways. And you will introduce me to your host." Her keeper?

Ramon shared a perfectly civilized meal with his sister and Prince  Xavier. He touched base with his family, texted Isidora, then slept off  some of his jet lag in a room with an exalted past-occupant list that  went back four hundred years. By the time he was leaving, Isidora still  hadn't replied.

He probably deserved that, but it bothered him, especially when Trella  said, "The palace is handling my PR from now on. Whatever stunts you  pull with Izzy could do more damage than good. Tone it down."

He left in a state of discontent, ears ringing with the knowledge his  primary reason for cornering Isidora into their fake engagement was  gone.

He tried calling her twice more while he was in transit, but she declined to pick up.

Quit leading her on.

Had he been? He hadn't let himself examine too closely what they were  doing, which wasn't unlike him. He didn't deconstruct the good things in  his life. He enjoyed them until they reached their natural end.

Enjoyed didn't come close to his state of mind while he'd been with  Isidora, though. Yes, the sex was out-of-this-world, but there had been  something enormously relaxing about being in a relationship recognized  by outsiders as inviolate. The pretty birds of prey who'd circled all  his life had kept their distance. The weight of boring small talk at  parties was cut in half. She made him look better than he was and when  they were alone, she was equally witty, stimulating his intellect,  keeping him on his toes.
         

     



 
She had known it was temporary, he reminded himself. But his chest felt  tight. Had he let things become too intimate? Had his drawing it out  made it seem likely to become permanent?

Maybe it was better he had scorned her again.

Another searing pain went through him, resisting that truth. If he  needed convincing, however, the sick feeling that had accosted him when  Trella's alarm had gone off was it. He hated being so vulnerable. He  didn't want to feel so worried for yet another human being.

It was stressful enough that she was refusing to answer his calls.

He checked her security report, but everything was listed as normal.  Even the social-media reports had calmed down as his fans began fixating  on when their wedding date would be announced and whether they would  produce twins, as Henri had.

Ramon clicked off his phone and tucked it in the pocket over the ache of regret that hung in his chest.

Definitely better to end things before she began to wonder about wedding dates herself, he thought bleakly.

Since it was office hours when he arrived in Paris, he went to work, but only found Etienne at Isidora's desk.

"Where is she?" he asked, scanning the empty room, accosted by a weird  premonition that grew worse as Etienne blinked in bewilderment.

"She didn't call you? Bernardo had a heart attack. She's gone to Madrid. I've been waiting to hear if he'll pull through-"

Ramon walked out, already speed-dialing his pilot.



"Why didn't you call me?" Ramon's voice came in with his footsteps,  behind her, dragging her from a sea of worry to a boatload of pain. When  his hand settled on her shoulder, she stiffened in defense, not able to  cope with both sources of anguish at once.

His hand left her and in her periphery she saw it curl into a loose  fist. He moved to stand closer to the bed, his expression tightening as  he took in how her vibrant father was gray and still beneath his light  sheet. His face was obscured by breathing equipment, his arm tied to an  IV bag. The room was eerily quiet. Just that low sough of manufactured  breath, the muted blip of equipment a lonely signal, proclaiming his  heart still functioned. Barely.

"Was your mother with him? Where is she?" He glanced around.

She gave her father's limp fingers a reassuring squeeze, only able to  reply with a faint shake of her head, not willing to go there. According  to her father's housekeeper, who had been the one to call Isidora,  Francisca had packed a few days ago. She wasn't at her own home. Isidora  had tried to reach her without success, which suggested she was away.  Far away. With someone else. On a yacht, beyond coverage, perhaps.

So much for this latest reconciliation.

Isidora wasn't ready to face any of it. She would have to wonder if her  mother's fickle soul had caused her father's cardiac arrest and that  created such a division of loyalty in her, she thought it might break  her clean in half.

Focus on the positive.

"He made it through the surgery. They say that's a good sign." Her voice was desert-dry, thin and arid.

He transferred his attention to her, frown deepening as he studied her.  "You look exhausted. Have you slept? Eaten? How long have you been  here?"

She vaguely recalled a nurse giving her a canned protein drink while she  waited for her father to come out of surgery. She had meant to finish  it, but couldn't remember if she had taken more than a few sips.