Free The Abducted Heart (Sweetly Contemporary Collection) by Jennifer Blake Page B

he repeated, “Our Lady of the Turquoise Skirt, an Aztec goddess who presided over lakes and rivers. She is always represented as a young girl of charm, beautifully dressed. I had not realized why the dress you are wearing attracted my attention until I saw you in it.”
    It was a skillful compliment, but compliments were something she was too unfamiliar with to be certain it was sincere. On the chance that it was, she thanked him in a low voice, then continued hurriedly, “But you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble and expense.”
    “I thought I had explained that,” he said with an impatient gesture.
    “I know,” she answered, a slight frown between her eyes, “but that doesn’t keep me from feeling uncomfortable about it.”
    “You feel more attractive in this dress, do you not?”
    She had to admit she did.
    “Then that is enough. If it is the morality of accepting such things that bothers you, put it out of your head. I am your fiancé, am I not? And I assure you, I require nothing of you in return.”
    Before she could recover her breath to reply, he turned sharply away. “Come, I would like a few minutes alone with you before we join the others.”
    He held the door of the library for her, closing it behind them as she passed through. Before moving to his desk, he indicated a chair for Anne, but she elected to stand.
    From the desktop, he picked up a small, velvet-covered jeweler’s box and, springing it open, held it out to her. Tucked into a bed of white satin was an oval-shaped diamond solitaire in a platinum setting.
    When Anne looked from the ring to him without making a move to take it, Ramón asked, “Well, don’t you like it?”
    “It’s lovely.”
    “Perhaps you expected something more elaborate? But your hands are so slender. Anything else would have looked clumsy, overpowering.”
    “Oh, no, it’s not that. The ring is all any girl could wish for. I just—”
    “There must be some outward sign of our engagement, you will agree to that? People will expect it.”
    “Yes.”
    “Then — it is the cost again?” he said, a hard look descending over his face.
    She nodded.
    “There is no necessity for you to feel that you must protest every cent spent on you merely because I suspected you of being interested in my money, my dear Anne. I am not impressed.”
    Anne felt a coldness settle around her heart. Without a word, she turned making swiftly for the door. He caught her before she had taken three steps, swinging her to face him, his hands on her forearms. His face was tight with rage. A threat seemed to hang in the air. Suddenly, Anne remembered Metcalf’s and this man’s power to harm Joe and Iva. Fear invaded her mind and she raised wide eyes to search Ramón’s face.
    He stared down at her, his fingers biting into her arms, a muscle corded along his jawline. Then with an abrupt movement, he released her.
    “I’m sorry, Anne. I should not have said that. We will forget it, please.”
    The apology was so unexpected that she could make no answer. But neither did she object as he took the ring from the box and, picking up her hand, pushed it smoothly onto her finger. Her hand was cool in his warm grasp and he did not immediately let it go. He stared down at the pale oval of her face while tension grew between them. His hands moved to cup her elbows, drawing her close against him. She could feel the hardness of the planes of his chest and the muscles of his thighs.
    “Anne,” he said, a questioning note in his husky voice.
    A knock, loud in the stillness, sounded on the door. Before they could move, the panel opened and a woman stuck her head into the room.
    “May I come in? Whoops! Sorry, Ramón, but you shouldn’t hide away with your fiancée when you have guests, especially a guest like me. You should have known I would chase you down, even in your sanctum.” “Anne, may I present my sister, Estela,” Ramón said dryly. With a show of reluctance that may or may not have