A Night, A Consequence, A Vow

‘Stop.’

Emily’s low, urgent command sent a jolt through Ramon. He realised he’d lowered his head—was millimetres away from satisfying his desire to know if she tasted as ripe and sweet as he imagined. He raised his head, noted the streaks of crimson over her cheekbones, the laboured quality of her breathing, and knew a rush of satisfaction.

The attraction was mutual.

She stiffened, even as she trembled. ‘Let me go.’

His aroused body protested but his mind urged him to comply. He wasn’t averse to mixing business with pleasure on occasion, but indulging his lust with the prickly Ms Royce would be more complicated than a few hours or days of pleasure were worth.

Restored to his senses, he dropped his hands from her waist and stepped back.

She retrieved the paper from the floor and moved away, placing a good six feet of space between them. ‘Is that how you settle disputes with your business partners?’ Her face was flushed, her tone scathing. ‘By kissing them?’

‘Only the pretty ones,’ he drawled.

She gave him a withering look. ‘You’re not funny, Mr de la Vega.’

‘I thought I told you to call me Ramon.’

She flapped the paper in the air. ‘And I thought you were serious about this deal.’

Her comeback sobered him. ‘I am.’

‘Then explain why you’re proposing to curtail my voting rights.’

He pushed his hands back into his pockets. ‘You want autonomy in the day-to-day operations,’ he said. ‘And I’m willing to grant you that. By the same token, as the majority shareholder I don’t expect to need your agreement on minor policy changes.’

She sent him an incredulous look. ‘Minor? The bylaws are hardly minor. They’re the very foundation of the club. The rules and regulations that govern everything that’s important to the members. Etiquette, dress code, membership—’ She halted and, slowly, realisation dawned on her face. ‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ Her tone turned accusing. ‘You want to push through a reciprocal membership arrangement with your own clubs.’

‘No. But I do want to amend the membership protocols.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

Because his brother needed leverage. Because it was an opportunity to counter Hector’s underhanded power plays. Hector thought he could buy the loyalty of his fellow cronies, but what he failed to realise was that his supporters were no less duplicitous than he was. Offered the right incentive, they’d desert him in a heartbeat and give their allegiance to Xav.

And what better incentive than entry into a club where they’d rub shoulders with some of the most powerful, influential men in the world?

But first Ramon had to ensure there were no obstacles in the road.

‘The approval process is archaic.’ He went to the coffee table and picked up a bound copy of the club’s rules and regulations. ‘This says the protocol for accepting new members hasn’t changed in more than sixty years.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Surely a review is overdue?’

She shook her head. ‘You can’t go changing the rules willy-nilly. The membership needs to be consulted. And the member who chairs the Admissions Committee is a stickler for tradition.’ Her expression turned faintly smug. ‘He won’t be easily swayed.’

‘Lord Hanover, you mean?’ He smiled as the smugness slid from her face. ‘A pleasant chap. At least, he seemed so when we spoke.’

Her mouth went slack. ‘You...you spoke with Lord Hanover?’

‘Briefly. Forty minutes ago. I’ve arranged to have lunch with him on Thursday.’

‘You’re lunching with Lord Hanover?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He dropped the document, picked up his phone and started thumbing through his contacts. ‘Would you like to ask his secretary?’

Emily snapped her mouth shut. ‘Fine. I believe you. But aren’t you jumping the gun? Our agreement isn’t executed yet.’

He stilled. ‘Are you suggesting it won’t be?’

‘Not in its present form.’