CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
‘P ARDON ? ’ E LODIE STARED at the stunning man as a rushing noise echoed in her head. She can’t have heard him properly.
‘My cousin is the man coercing your sister into marrying him. Well, actually, it’s really his mother doing the coercing. My aunt.’
His aunt ? She gaped. ‘You’re not Ramon Fernandez?’
‘I am Juan Ramon Fernandez. You were seeking Jose Ramon,’ he explained with a faintly regretful air. ‘We are both known as Ramon.’
She suddenly realised he was still holding her and sharply pulled free of the hold that had been disconcertingly comforting. ‘Not at all confusing.’
‘The names are a family thing.’ He watched her step backwards. ‘My mother Daniela’s family, actually. Fernandez is her name. The first Ramon was her father. My mother married a businessman who became CEO and took control of the Fernandez empire—continuing the family name through me was part of their deal. It is my mother’s sister Cristina causing the problem. Her son—Jose Ramon Fernandez—is to marry Ashleigh.’
Stunned, Elodie tried to process all that information but it was almost as convoluted as one of her most challenging escape room clues.
Jose Ramon. Juan Ramon. Ramon. Both Fernandez.
She had it wrong. This man was not Ashleigh’s prospective groom, that was someone else entirely—his cousin on his mother’s side. And instead of doing the mental gymnastics to sort all that out, heat simply swamped her from head to toe as that illicit part deep within her pulsed with primal pleasure—
He wasn’t the one. He wasn’t taken. He could be hers.
Full mortification hit as she suppressed her own inner roar of possession. What was she thinking ? She’d worked herself into a fury and she’d not even attacked the right guy and she should definitely not be so happy about it.
‘You should have told me the moment you realised my mistake,’ she growled.
He’d strung her along and allowed her to completely embarrass herself—hell, she’d all but thrown herself at the man in an attempt to show his immorality!
‘I wanted to understand more about the situation—’
‘You let me rage at you!’ She couldn’t restrain herself from raging again now. ‘You let me—’
‘You might have left before I could help.’
She paused, mistrustful as hell. ‘You intend to help?’
‘That surprises you?’ His lips curved in that devastating smile. ‘I think we may be able to resolve this situation to our best advantage if we work on it together .’
Best advantage? He spoke coolly, yet she felt an insidious warmth at the possibility of teaming up with him. But she couldn’t lower her guard just because of his good looks and sudden charm. This Ramon was more than wealthy. He was powerful and definitely controlling. He’d just controlled the information he’d given her! He was used to being in charge—getting everything his way. And if he were anything like the controlling men she’d known, he wouldn’t stand to be denied. She needed to be very, very careful. But she realised he’d given something away in admitting he’d wanted to understand more.
‘You didn’t know about the engagement plans,’ she surmised.
He hesitated. ‘No.’
‘Yet you’re this other Ramon’s cousin?’ Were they not close?
‘Families can be complicated.’ His gaze slid from her for the briefest second. ‘I think Jose Ramon is as much of a pawn as your sister. He won’t stand up to either his mother or your father.’
She felt a flare of pity for Jose Ramon because she had the feeling he wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of standing up to this man either. She knew how hard it was to say no to powerful people. It had taken her years to develop the skill. ‘How old is he?’
‘An immature twenty-two.’ He cocked his head. ‘How old are you?’
She ignored his question. ‘Why does your aunt want him married to my sister?’
He hesitated. ‘Because I have no plans to marry and they know it.’
‘What’s the relevance of your relationship status?’ she asked with blunt sarcasm.
Even though that greedy part within her was utterly, keenly interested.
‘It’s everything.’ He regarded her with that shameless arrogance. ‘In a family like mine marriage is rarely about love. It’s about assets and heirs and continuity of control. Some of our property is held in trusts because it is always better for assets to remain within the family. Most of the wider family are happy to let me remain in charge and do all the work as long as they get their quarterly dividends. But there are always some who’ll never have enough. Cristina will never have enough.’ He drew breath. ‘So the pressure will continue on poor Jose Ramon to marry—if not your sister then someone else because if he beats me up the aisle then he could gain control of one particular property portfolio.’
‘So this is really all a fight within your own family.’
Which meant to some extent he was still to blame for this situation. Which was good because she felt safer being angry with him.
‘There are warring family factions in every generation, no?’ He shrugged negligently. ‘Dysfunction is often the norm.’
‘In ridiculously wealthy dynasties, perhaps. I wouldn’t really know.’ But that wasn’t quite true. Her family was dysfunctional. They didn’t have the assets and heirs but they certainly had the control issue. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Well, I am seriously considering your proposal.’
‘My...’ She stared at him fixedly as a rush of adrenaline deafened her again. ‘What?’
‘Marriage is the one thing both our families want. Perhaps we should give it to them.’
‘I was speaking facetiously .’ Yet the raw attraction burgeoning inside begged to differ.
‘Were you?’ He moved closer to her again.
This was bad. When he was close her brain failed and her body burned.
‘How disappointing,’ he added softly. ‘Let’s revisit it as a realistic prospect to solve our respective problems.’
‘ Our problems?’ Breathless, she retreated a step. ‘Sounds like this is about your problems which I definitely don’t need to be part of.’ She took another step back. ‘I should go—’
‘Stop.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘Stay. Sit.’
It wasn’t his words that stopped her, but the jolt at his touch. Not an electrical current but a shot of pure desire—instantly followed by rage. She desperately hauled back her composure. ‘I am not a dog you can command,’ she snapped.
He paused. ‘Please.’
‘Not much better.’
He smiled. She was immune to the charm of it. Immune . She was not being dictated to by any man ever again.
‘An apology might go a little way to salvaging the situation,’ she muttered.
He cocked his head as he studied her thoughtfully. Right. This man apologised to no one. He didn’t admit mistakes. Too arrogant to believe he even made any. And this was fast becoming too much about her and her increasingly uncontrollable insane reaction to someone she knew would be so wrong for her.
She needed to get out of here. She would figure out an alternative solution. She would break Ashleigh out of there and bring her back to London, find another job to support them both. It would be hard, but they could survive on their own together. But Juan Ramon Fernandez still had hold of her hand and somehow without her noticing he’d stepped closer again and all she could focus on was his finely tailored dinner jacket and her itchy-fingered desire to discover the heat of him beneath the starched white shirt.
‘May I offer something even better,’ he said smoothly. ‘It’s getting late. It’s been a stressful evening. I get hungry when stressed. Do you? Stay and have dinner. We’ll talk. Swap family horror stories—’
‘And come up with an actually practical solution?’ she interrupted.
For Ashleigh—only for Ashleigh—would she even consider this. She would ignore his charming and courteous side, stay on task, and she would never let him railroad her into anything as ridiculous as marriage.
‘Precisely. I can help your sister. And you.’ He gazed down at her. ‘I have a couple of calls I need to make. Would you like a moment to freshen up while I do? Piotr will take you—’
‘To the guest suite,’ she muttered dryly. She was not thinking about his comment about her staying in his room. That had been way too much.
He smiled, unabashed. ‘What do you say—will you stay?’
Awareness of danger feathered across her skin but the fact was she was short on time and ideas. And as he seemingly didn’t want his cousin and Ashleigh’s marriage either, she needed all the help she could get to stop it. Plus she didn’t want to show any kind of weakness in front of him. Running away would only reveal how much he got to her. His supposed interest in her stupid proposal was little more than a joke, but even if he was serious he’d have a change of heart once he knew more about the reputation she’d cultivated in the months after she’d run out on her marriage, when she was trying to force Callum into finally accepting their separation. But once Ramon got beyond the marriage idea, perhaps they could work together. She was wary of his power, but if he were on her side, then she maybe could use it.
‘I’ll stay for dinner,’ she said haughtily. ‘But only so we can sort out this situation to my satisfaction.’
‘Perfect,’ he muttered soothingly and released her hand.
Weirdly, walking away from the man made her shiver. She pulled her blazer together, annoyed by the absurdly certain feeling he would sort the situation. He was the capable kind who could sort anything and everything. Even more annoying was her attraction to him. For a moment she imagined sweeping along in this velvet atmosphere wearing some gorgeous dress. Imagined being alone with Ramon Fernandez any time she felt like it. Imagined the confidence to do anything she wanted. With him. To him...
The effort to redirect those thoughts came at a cost. With every step away from him an almost blinding headache came on swiftly and strongly. Thankfully the immaculately efficient Piotr opened a door, then stood back to let her through.
‘I’ll be back in about twenty minutes to escort you to the dining room,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
She leaned back against the door the second she closed it. Ashleigh’s safety was the most important thing—the only thing to focus on right now.
She stared at the enormous bed—more luxurious than any hotel perfection. Not that she’d ever stayed in one of the hotels in the Fernandez empire though. Another fantasy engulfed her—of being in his room. That shocking comment had been pure temptation. Her face flamed and she chastised her wayward imagination. Her head pounded, exacerbated by not eating in hours because she’d been too nervous about her mission. And now the riot of her wholly unexpected and inappropriate response to him caused even more inner tension, resulting in a fierce pounding at her temples. She staggered into the stunning bathroom, dampened a cloth and went back to sink into the large armchair beside the bed. Closing her eyes, she pressed it to her face, desperate to relax.
Ramon tensed, his gaze narrowing on the screens in front of him that were mirroring those of two of his highly paid personal assistants who were working late in the city office. He was juggling calls with both.
‘I want to see everything that’s there. Go back further.’
His assistant immediately obliged, knowing better than to question, no matter how exceptional or unusual these particular instructions were.
He’d already skimmed the plans for the island that Cristina and Jose Ramon had commissioned and planned to submit for local government approval the second Jose Ramon had occupancy. Yet instead of prioritising that imminent disaster he’d fallen down the rabbit hole that was Elodie Wallace’s social media profile. So many party pictures—not yachts and private beaches and the like—this was all clubs and bars in the city.
‘There’s nothing earlier,’ his assistant said.
Nothing prior to the sudden rush of pictures starting about three years ago. Furthermore, the flurry of party girl activity had been updated only sporadically in the past year. Her profile picture showed her standing between two other women who looked to be a similar age. Her squad? A curvy brunette and an arctic-looking blonde. They made a stunning trio, but it was the flame-haired vixen in the centre who he couldn’t help staring at. Who he felt absurdly angry about.
It didn’t bother him that she’d mistaken him for his cousin. He wasn’t insulted by her assumption that he would marry someone so young and who he barely knew. No, that wasn’t the problem. She was. Specifically, his reaction to her. Her wild red hair, striking blue eyes and temperamental sass sharpened his senses. The strength with which she drew him was beyond irritating. It was her unexpected appearance, right? She’d stormed into his home—dressed to thrill—and demanded what she wanted.
So yeah, she’d got his attention. That was all. Because for years now he’d proven to himself that he was not his father. That he didn’t have that bastard’s age-old weakness for a beautiful woman. That he wouldn’t ever be controlled by base urges in the way his repellent old man had been.
Ramon was better than that. Only now, in mere moments, that belief was destroyed. One look at her and he’d been stupefied. One conversation and he was almost tongue-tied. His animal instinct urged him to capture and claim. He’d been unable to resist the desire to touch her.
‘She works for an escape room company,’ the other assistant informed him. ‘She’s a hostess there.’
‘Hostess?’
‘You know, the one who reads the rules and then locks people in.’
And watches them try to worm their way out? Yeah. That made sense. He had the feeling she would enjoy that power trip. She liked to be in control.
‘She was married.’ His first assistant coughed. ‘And is now divorced.’
His blood iced as the certificates appeared on the screen in front of him. ‘Can you find anything about the ex?’
‘Same town addresses. Presumably someone local. Looking at him now.’
There was a pause while his assistant typed.
‘They went to the same school,’ she said.
She’d married her high school sweetheart? Had she outgrown him? Broken his heart?
Ramon clicked the certificates away. Now he knew what she’d meant with her dramatic declaration—
‘I lied. I cheated. I abandoned my responsibilities.’
He gritted his teeth. The details didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know anything more than the bare fact that she’d betrayed her husband. Leopards didn’t change their spots.
His father had cheated on his mother many times and lied about it for years before making Ramon complicit in betrayal too. His father had tried to convince him that it was ‘normal’—that Ramon would understand as he grew older. That they were very alike. And yes, Ramon looked like his father, worked like his father and had now long been stained by his father’s sins.
He’d tried to protect his mother from the truth. Not only had he failed in that, she’d never forgiven him for his silence, assuming he’d known about the one betrayal that had been so much worse than Ramon could have ever imagined. His parents’ marriage had been such a travesty, Ramon was never entering one of his own. At least not for real and not for long. Fortunately, Elodie had already proven that vows didn’t signify to her. Which meant the impulsive solution aired earlier might actually have legs. She’d offered herself, had she not? She would do anything for her sister. What was a little agreement—a signature here and there?
‘There’s no mention of her on her parents’ social media profiles,’ his other assistant said. ‘It’s as if she doesn’t exist.’
Irritated, he snapped, ‘And her sister?’
‘Doesn’t seem to be online.’
Which was weird. But Elodie’s social media profile was easily accessible. Beautiful Elodie in short, form-fitting dresses—all seductive smiles, drinks in hand, nightclubs, restaurants and parties. Unsurprisingly she was accompanied by a vast assortment of men. Apparently disowned by her parents, she was a wild child. And an appallingly base part of him was pleased that Elodie Wallace knew how to have a good time.
‘Enough. Thank you.’ He ended the calls and remained staring at the screen full of pictures for far too long.
She would be able to hold her own with him. She was as uninterested in happy ever after as he was. She was about immediate gratification. His competitive nature surged. No one would give her a good time in the way he would. He would have her resplendent in his bed, mindless with bliss, with nothing other than sighs tumbling from her tart mouth. Because that was the element missing in all these photos. His gut instinct told him her pleasure here was superficial amusement at best. Not bone-deep satisfaction.
So maybe he would thwart his aunt and get the occupancy rights of the property the moment before she thought she’d succeeded. And in the same sweep, he would enjoy an affair with the enthusiastic and experienced Elodie Wallace.
He finally stalked along the corridor to the guest suite, anticipating her annoyance that it was more than an hour since Piotr had shown her to the room, not a mere twenty minutes. That it was Ramon himself coming to fetch her for dinner, not his man. In part he’d wanted to test whether she’d skip out or not. He knocked on the door but got no response. Opened it and paused. She was reclined in the large armchair, a flannel folded across her eyes—was she asleep?
He moved forward, not expecting that she’d be so relaxed as if she were having a spa session at a hotel. But of course, she was a confident queen. He crouched before her. Her satiny skin tempted as did her soft-looking mouth. But there was something vulnerable in her positioning.
‘Elodie.’ His whisper came out gruff and he had to clear his throat.
She lifted away the cloth and looked straight into his eyes. The cloth must’ve been damp because much of her make-up was removed and she was disturbingly pale.
‘Oh. I’m...’ She made to sit up.
He frowned and pushed her back against the chair. ‘You have a headache?’
‘I probably look like a racoon.’
But the shadows beneath her eyes weren’t streaks of mascara. She looked wary and sensitive. Interesting given her boldness earlier.
‘What time is it?’ She bit her lip.
‘I took longer than I’d thought. Wasn’t sure you’d have stayed to be honest. Turns out you’re lying here looking like death.’ He studied her curiously. ‘Been burning the candle at both ends?’
Had she been out partying and just not updating her social media?
He heard a defiant little hitch of her breath.
‘Of course, that’s how I like it,’ she said.
‘So you have no problem sleeping wherever and whenever?’ And with whomever?
He shouldn’t care about that. Her past was the past and none of his business. But without doubt he would be her immediate future.
‘Right.’ She lowered her lashes but beneath them her eyes gleamed. ‘It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years.’
‘Impressive.’ As was the coy death look she was shooting him now.
He watched her pull herself together before him—in two blinks she morphed back into the confident woman who’d coolly knocked down his front door. Her lashes lifted and she looked at him directly. The ambient temperature soared. Colour surged back beneath her skin. Her blush was a giveaway reaction to him that was completely beyond her control. As was his. This chemistry needed to be burned. He rose from his haunches and offered his hand. There was a small hesitation—as if she were bracing—before she took it. He locked his fingers firmly around hers—also inwardly bracing to contain his insane satisfaction—and tugged, helping her to her feet in a smooth movement.
Now they stood too close and still she met his gaze with that daring, fiery defiance. The bed beckoned. He watched, waited. Would she make the move? She was definitely sexually interested. No way was he wrong about that. Which meant any moment now she’d lift her chin and press her lips to his. He wanted her to. Badly.
But she didn’t. She’d frozen as if paralysed by the crackling reaction between them. His pulse thudded—pushing him to close the gap. Resisting the urge took almost everything he had.
‘I’m hungry,’ she said huskily.
He dragged in a breath. She was very good. But this vixen had entered his den and he wasn’t afraid to engage with her. He wasn’t bored anymore either. No, now they would spar. ‘Then come with me.’