LITMIR.BIZ

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learning he wasn’t biologically her father, for instance.

      Bernardo was her anchor, her moral compass, her silver lining in a world too often clouded and stormy. He was the parent her mother was incapable of being.

      He would never wind up in such a ridiculous position, but if he had to choose whether to work with a Sauveterre or against one, she knew what he would do: whatever was asked.

      He would stay loyal to the offspring of the man who had convinced him to accept the child her mother had passed off as his own.

      Isidora owed the Sauveterres for the man she called “Papa,” not that they knew it.

      At least, when this was over, she would feel she had settled that debt.

      * * *

      Ramon savored the subtle bite of the anise, letting the fragrant sweetness roll on his tongue, thinking it was not unlike Isidora’s personal flavor. That kiss. As he finally had a moment alone, he gave in to the memory of driving his tongue into welcoming heat. He had half expected her to drive her knee into his groin, but the kick of her response had been even more devastating. That hadn’t been mere surrender. It had been a chemical explosion that had burned away everything he understood about kisses and women and sex.

      What the hell?

      He had held many beautiful women. None had sparked such a profound reaction in him. He had lost himself for a moment, absorbed in a vast landscape he instinctively knew would take a lifetime to explore.

      Then the insanity of their public location had struck. He’d pulled out of the worst tailspin of his life, dazed and, yes, instantly defensive at having his thick shields penetrated so effortlessly.

      If he had realized they were so sexually compatible—

      No. He poured a third drink, refusing to go back and reexamine the turns he had already made. That was his brother’s MO. Henri liked to track results on spreadsheets and weigh options as he made projections and charted his next moves. That invariably resulted in accurate predictions that efficiently achieved the result he wanted, but it wasn’t Ramon’s style. He let his gut pick the goal and shot toward it via the swiftest, shortest line, making corrections as problems cropped up.

      His aim was to protect his family, first and foremost. Always. He never let his libido distract him. It was a weakness. Strength was his only option. Too many people depended on him, especially now that Henri had a wife and two defenseless infants to look out for.

      But Ramon did have weaknesses. Some of them came around annually as a long, dark night of the soul. When he was not in a position to spend those nights with family, he sought company, usually female. That was how he had come to enter a bar in Madrid and find the ex-wife of his father’s best friend, five years ago.

      Francisca Villanueva was a delicate soul who carried a lot of pain. He had taken her home to keep less honorable men from taking advantage of her. He couldn’t save her from herself indefinitely, but he could for a night.

      She had made him laugh and revealed her own pain, exposing more cracks in her family than he had ever guessed from Bernardo’s composed demeanor or Isidora’s sunny smiles.

      Coming face-to-face with Isidora as he left the next morning had been like one of those moments on a racetrack, where a split-second decision had to be made.

      Isidora had been making calf eyes at him since adolescence. The longer her legs grew, the more difficult it was to ignore her. Temptation had been closing its grip on him as she blossomed into an ever more alluring woman, but she was too young and inexperienced for the light, temporary affairs he offered.

      As her smile of delighted recognition had faded into confusion and suspicion, then betrayal and devastation, he had let the disillusionment happen.

      He could have corrected her assumption. He could have told her that his night with her mother had been wine and conversation and a chaste kiss on the cheek when her mother went to bed alone. He could have kept Isidora’s fixation on him alive, but to what end? He was never going to marry her. It wasn’t personal. He would never marry anyone. Children were completely off the table. His siblings might be changing their minds about opening themselves to liability, but Ramon hadn’t and wouldn’t.

      So what had been his alternative in that moment? Encourage Isidora to keep mooning after him? Eventually date her, sleep with her, then break her heart? No. He had used the opportunity to cut her off the lane she was on. Cruel, yes, but a type of kindness. She was on track to crash and burn otherwise.

      He had not foreseen that Henri would hire her years later, but he couldn’t argue with the appointment. Isidora had grown into a composed, accomplished woman with cutting-edge PR skills, and who possessed wit and intelligence. Most of all, she brought to the table a deep understanding of their family dynamics, allowing them to skip past painful history lessons.

      Ramon accepted that she was angry. Hurt even. That she didn’t want to lie about their being engaged. His proposal had been another reflexive move. Cruelty without kindness, but there was no backing out. They would have to make the best of it.

      He stroked his thumb on the curve of the glass he held, trying not to fall back into dwelling on how exquisite her response had been. It was a dangerous distraction when he needed to stay focused on what his family needed.

      The powder-room door opened and Isidora came out wearing an expression that was both calm and—Was that a light of joy as she let a broad smile take over her face?

      It kicked him in the chest. Dios, there really was no ignoring how lovely she was.

      “Better?”

      His ears rang so loudly it took him a moment to catch the sarcasm.

      “You said I could leave when I managed to look happy about this. Good enough?” She dropped her smile.

      The radiance in her expression dimmed so fast and sharp, he felt it like the chill when the sun went suddenly behind a cloud.

      “You’ll need a retirement party and an engagement party,” she continued matter-of-factly. “Two different ones, to maximize the coverage.” She crossed to where she had left her phone. “We should do something around all the restructuring and promotions, too. We’ll call them team-building sessions, but something visual, like zip lines or a fun run. We’ll link it to a charity for a higher profile. You and I can make appearances, invite the press to watch you shake hands with your new CEOs. If I’m going to all this trouble to snag news coverage, Sauveterre International should benefit. I’ll need a ring. Something flashy. Gaudy, even. The gossip outlets are on ring watch with Angelique so let’s give them something to notice. I won’t keep it, so I’ll arrange a loan—”

      “I’ll get the ring,” he interjected, not quite trusting this abrupt switch in attitude. “You’re doing this, then? No more arguing?”

      “Oh, I’m sure we’ll argue, but you haven’t given me much choice, have you?” She took a moment to set her shoulders and lift her chin, as though bravely facing down a firing squad.

      Was it really such a monumental favor? He hitched his hands on his hips, wanting to roll his eyes. “You’ll be compensated.”

      “That’s not what I’m after.” She flashed him a cross look, offended. “I’ll always do what I can to help Trella. All of your family. But... How long does this have to last? Three or four months?” Her brow furrowed with calculation. “Once Trella has her baby and Angelique announces her engagement, you and I can have a nice public breakup, yes? Unless something else comes up along the way and we need a story?”

      Ramon knew when to push an advantage and when to simply hold on to one, but it still bothered him as he said, “That sounds appropriate.”

      “It will make sense that I leave the company when we part ways. You should talk with Henri about how you plan to replace me.”

      A reflexive protest rose, but she was right. He would facilitate her finding a good position as part of her compensation. After a suitable period,

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