A Night, A Consequence, A Vow

She swallowed, embarrassed. ‘If I marry and produce a male heir by the age of thirty.’

She heard his sharp inhale.

‘How much?’

‘S...sorry?’

‘How much money, Emily?’ he snapped, and she jumped, unaccustomed to him raising his voice.

‘Two million pounds,’ she croaked.

‘Dios.’ For a second, incredulity wiped the anger from his face. ‘And if you don’t?’

‘I forfeit the inheritance. The money goes to charity.’ She shifted her feet under his hardening stare. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner, but it’s not important to me, Ramon. It was my grandfather’s eccentric attempt to ensure his legacy eventually passes to a male heir. I couldn’t care less about that money.’

The hard gleam in his eyes remained. ‘Does your father know about the clause?’

She hesitated. ‘Yes.’

‘And what did he want tonight?’ The cynical twist of his lips made his implication shockingly clear.

She took a step back from him, her insides wrenching. ‘No.’ The word burst from her, almost a shout. She gave her head a vigorous shake. ‘You’re wrong.’

He grasped her wrist, halting her retreat. ‘Don’t be naive, Emily,’ he said tersely.

‘I’m not being naive. You’re being twisted and cynical. And unfair!’ She tried to pull free but he held fast. ‘You have no idea what happened between my father and me tonight.’

‘Then tell me.’ He tugged her close and cupped his other hand under her jaw, forcing her gaze up to his. ‘Convince me he hasn’t crawled out of the woodwork after two months hoping to benefit from your potential windfall.’

‘That accusation is disgusting.’ Her voice trembled with outrage. His scepticism cast an icy pall over her optimism. Worse, it filled her head with horrible, stomach-shredding doubts. ‘My father has been in a rehab clinic for the last two months, if you must know. He’s getting himself together. And yes—’ she stared at him defiantly ‘—he wants to reconcile.’

He gave a low, grating laugh. ‘Like I said, querida. Naive.’

His mocking tone drove a dagger of hurt into her thundering heart.

Ramon never spoke to her like this.

Not the Ramon she knew.

Not the Ramon she loved.

But he’d not been the same man since Spain, had he? The awful incident with his friend’s brother had affected him on some deep level, somewhere far beyond the limit of her reach.

‘I don’t think this...this mood of yours is about my father at all,’ she challenged. ‘I think it’s about you.’

As though she were suddenly radioactive, he released her and stepped back. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘It means you don’t believe you’re worthy of forgiveness, so you don’t think anyone else is either.’

A savage frown furrowed his brow. ‘Forgiveness must be earned, Emily.’

‘Is that what you’ve been doing, Ramon? Earning forgiveness these last twelve years?’ His expression darkened but she forged on. ‘Is that why you gave up your architectural career to join the family business? Why you set your sights on The Royce? Is it all about earning brownie points so your family forgives you?’

‘Emily.’ His voice was a low growl.

She ignored the warning. ‘Do you know what the crazy thing is? You have amazing parents who love you, but you’re so busy keeping them at arm’s length you haven’t noticed they forgave you a long time ago.’

‘Enough!’ He slashed his hand through the air. ‘This is about your father. And I forbid you to see him.’