Bound by the Millionaire's Ring(4)

A door closed down the hall and they went silent as Ramon's firm steps  approached. She pasted on the same composed smile she would use to  introduce him to the rabid hounds of the press.

"Henri." Etienne greeted Ramon with a deferential nod. He waved at the  elevator she'd been holding, inviting Ramon to enter ahead of him.

"Ramon," he amended as he stepped into the car.

"Of course," Etienne said, visibly flustered as he came in last and  pressed the button for the bottom floor. "The memo didn't specify." He  sent a malevolent look at Isidora. "I didn't realize you were here. I  suppose your brother is still in Spain with-"

"Bernardo never had a problem telling us apart," Ramon interjected. "And  neither does Isidora. It's a quality we appreciate in those closest to  us. Don't ever gossip about my family again. I have no qualms about  letting you go for that."         

     



 



It wasn't working. After a brief ripple of flashes and murmurs over his announcement, the callouts quickly turned to Trella.

"Can you confirm the pregnancy?"

"When is she due?"

"Who is the father?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please confine your questions to today's topic."  Isidora leaned her fragrant hair under his nose so the microphone picked  up her well-modulated voice. "Ramon is retiring from racing to free up  his time to restructure the company. These are details that will be of  interest to your financial and market readers as well as the sports  fans."

Such a smooth, unruffled command as she stayed on message, just like her  father. As competent as she was, however, Etienne was right. She lacked  experience. She didn't have Ramon's well-honed skill for manipulating  the press-techniques he had learned from her father under the worst  possible tutelage.

"Cuánto lo siento," Bernardo had said fifteen years ago, pleading for  Angelique's forgiveness while Ramon had held her small, sweaty palm in  his equally clammy hand.

The police thought a public plea for help would urge people to come  forward with tips that could rescue their sister from her kidnappers.

"Emotions move people, Angelique," Bernardo had said. "I don't mean to  cause you more pain. Lo siento mucho. I know you're frightened and  hurting, but please don't try to hide your tears. People need to see how  you are feeling. This is what makes it stick in their minds and moves  them to act the way we need them to. Lo lamento mucho. I wish I didn't  have to ask this of you, but I need you to reveal your heart to the  camera."

It had been a disgusting thing to ask of a nine-year-old girl. Using her  terror and anguish had bordered on exploitation. Their father hadn't  been able to watch, too filled with self-contempt at putting his shy,  sensitive daughter through such an ordeal when she was already so  traumatized. But they had been desperate, all of them.

Their father had held their weeping mother in the other room while Henri  stood beside the camera, so Angelique could look at him as she pleaded  for Trella's return. Henri had worn the same ravaged expression that  Ramon had felt upon his own face.

They had all developed a deep, deep hatred of the public attention that  had never been invited and had turned their family into a target in the  first place.

After Trella was rescued, and they were trying to move on with their  lives, they had all found different ways of coping with the continued  attention. Henri stonewalled at every opportunity. Angelique accepted  and ignored. Trella had retreated to seclusion, becoming an elusive  unicorn who had gone several years without being photographed.

Ramon preferred to play them at their own game. He didn't care what was  printed about him. It amused him when the facts were wrong, especially  when those "facts" came from him. One of his fellow racers had gleefully  exchanged a volley of insults with him for several weeks earlier this  summer, to take the pressure off Cinnia as she floundered under the  weight of two babies and more attention than anyone should have to  suffer-especially if they hadn't become inured to it the way the rest of  his family had.

Now another baby was on the way. Ramon would quietly strangle his sister  at some point for getting herself into that situation, but that was a  job for another day.

Today's task was to protect that unborn Sauveterre. And Trella. Despite  the progress she had made in the last year, she was still very fragile.  She had barely survived her kidnapping. The critical press that had  dogged her for years after had made every effort to finish her off.  Ramon was very cognizant that a renewal of that harsh focus could give  her a setback.

"Is it true that Trella watched some of your races last year, by pretending she was Angelique?"

Yes, and that was a can of worms that needed to stay closed. Ramon had  to bring the focus back to him. Leaving racing wasn't doing the job. The  dry topic of restructuring a corporation was certainly not holding  anyone's attention.

Emotions move people. Reveal your heart to the camera...

His mind raced to find and evaluate options, quickly discovering the  line he would have to follow if he wanted to stay in front of the pack.

"The truth is, I've discovered something for which I feel more passion  than racing," he announced in a firm voice. "Hard to believe, is it not?  Racing has been my life for over a decade, but with my brother so  happily married and starting his family, I find I can't wait to enjoy  the same. I'm deeply in love and...well-"

He moved around Isidora so he was no longer behind the podium and sank to one knee beside her.         

     



 

A massive gasp went through the crowd.

The bombardment of flashes and clicks increased, but the shouting of  questions ceased. An eerie expectancy characterized that wordless  explosion of repeated shutter clicks and flashes. The lights strobed  against her skin as he looked up to Isidora's incredulous expression.

She paled as comprehension dawned. Her eyes showed white around her gray  irises. One hand came to her mouth and she might have said, "Don't you  dare."

"Lo siento, mi amor," Ramon said with loud pride over the mechanical  clicks and pops. "I cannot sneak around any longer, trying to keep this  quiet. I love you too much."

He couldn't recall ever saying those words to anyone except his mother  and siblings. It felt strange, pulling disturbingly at that inner door  he kept so firmly closed. The push-pull gave his voice the appropriate  amount of unsteadiness as he continued.

"You said if I quit racing, you would marry me. So, mi corazón. Now will  you make me the happiest man on earth? Our fathers would approve, you  know they would." He added the last as a reminder of where her loyalty  should lie.

He had to give it to her. She had studied well under Bernardo. Her eyes  filled with glossy tears and she didn't try to hide them. Her fingers  against her lips trembled. Her other hand was cold when he took it in  his, her fingers lax with shock.

The white fingers against her mouth curled into a fist.

"Was that yes?" He pretended he had heard a response no one else could  and leaped to his feet. As he crushed her to his front, he played up the  joyful act as he exclaimed, "She said yes!"

Then he dug his fingers into her hair, tipped back her head and kissed her.

She stiffened. Her breasts crushed into his chest as she sucked in a shocked breath.

He closed his grip on her more firmly, subtly, but implacably. Do this,  he urged, but even he had his limits when it came to cold-bloodedly  achieving his goals. Rather than force the kiss upon her, he brought all  his sensual skill to bear and persuaded her to accept it.



Oh, this rat wasn't content to threaten her job or break her heart. He  had to knock her self-esteem into smithereens. He rocked his mouth  across her lips in exactly the way she had fantasized all through her  teen years. Confident, hungry, enticing. Like he loved her.

Exactly as he'd just said he did.

She couldn't let his declaration affect her. It was a lie. She wanted to scratch his eyes out for playing with her like this.

Her own eyes stung, as if they'd been scraped raw behind her eyelids,  but her self-control checked out. The besotted girl who had fallen in  love so long ago came running out of her room, where she'd been crying  into a pillow for five years. She threw herself into Isidora's body,  heart singing with joy. She offered her mouth and drank up the sweet  sensations that washed over her as Ramon acted, finally, like he wanted  her.

Everywhere they touched, her skin bloomed with heat. Her bones turned  pliant and the betrayal of his putting her on the spot like this  evaporated. Her, the girl who had crushed so hard on a boy who was too  old for her, the girl who had been ignored, rejected, then brutally  passed over for her mother, the girl who had dealt with those horrible  feelings of treachery and rebuff... She kissed him back.

She wasn't terribly experienced and that was his fault, too. These were  the arms she had wanted from the first. These were the lips. This was  the man.