Page 194 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

‘What other companies?’ she redirected pointedly.

‘The luxury leather goods. The vineyards. There’s a venture into a cruise line.’ He slowly listed them off, rather enjoying her mounting outrage. ‘Then there’s the other properties.’

‘You’re CEO of all of them? How is that even possible? You can’t oversee the work of absolutely everyone.’

‘You’d be surprised how much detail I can retain on each,’ he said. ‘I like the variety. I need that challenge.’

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then she sat back. For a second she’d almost looked crestfallen, which diverted him momentarily. Why would his work commitments disappoint her?

‘What do you want me to wear to the wedding?’ she muttered after another few minutes.

For the first time in years Ramon’s brain froze. ‘You can buy a dress once we get to Gibraltar,’ he said stiffly.

‘Ooh, are you going to give me a platinum card so I can drain all your massive accounts?’

He breathed out through clenched teeth. ‘Haven’t had time for that paperwork yet, darling. So sorry. Piotr will pay.’

‘You mean he’s going to keep me on a leash.’

Awfully, another ripple of jealousy ripped through him. He tensed—too busy battling it to answer her immediately.

‘You don’t haveanyrequests?’ she prodded, unaware of how close to the edge he was. ‘Do you want something outrageous or would you prefer traditional?’

Have mercy. He closed his eyes—couldn’t stand to think of her in a wedding gown—anygown—in this instant. She’d look stunning in anything and best of allnaked. And he was losing his mind. He hauled his papers together and stood, inwardly swearing because they were airborne and hedesperatelyneeded some space.

‘You can wear whatever you like,’ he snapped. ‘I need to work.’

Elodie stared as he strode towards the back of the plane. Okay, so he really didn’t care what she wore, which she should be pleased about. She’d had her clothing choices dictated to her for most of her life—no pink, no red, no short hemlines...

Yet absurdly she had the urge to make Ramonpayfor his disinterest. There was literally, of course. She could spend squillions on some outrageous frock, which would serve him right, it really would. Maybe he thought she’d be restrained with Piotr in tow? Or maybe she’d turn up in a bin bag. He probably wouldn’t notice if she did and she’d feel rubbish. She didn’t want to feel rubbish, she wanted to feel good—wanted a dress thatsheliked. Maybe she’d go shopping and pick something solely forherself. After all, she’d not chosen her own wedding dress in her marriage to Callum. She’d had to wear the ‘fairy tale’ number her father had approved of. ‘Modest’ and ‘appropriate’, it had been lacy and swamped her. She didn’t want to be modest or appropriate this time.

This was definitely not a fairy tale.

Her marrying Ramon was going to be scandalous. But she didn’t care about the optics. She wanted to feelsexy. And she didn’t want to examine her motivations for that.

She ruminated for an hour, absurdly irritated by Ramon’s ability to focus on work while she was being driven to distraction at the thought of their marriage. As for all the companies he managed... His need forchallengeandvariety... That told her their marriage was likely lasting waylessthan six months. He’d probably be bored and ready for his next female ‘challenge’ in days. Sure, he’d said his affairs were monogamous but that didn’t mean they lasted long. Had he had a succession of lovers before her? She didn’t even know, yet here she was. Jealous.

Grumpily determined to course-correct, she opened her phone and took advantage of the onboard Wi-Fi to download a language app. Ten minutes of basic greetings later, she needed a bathroom break and headed towards the back of the plane.

That’s when she heard a weird noise. She peeked through the gap in the door leading to the rear cabin. ‘Oh, for...’ She gritted back the rest of her mutter.

Ramon paused dictating voice messages and grinned at her. ‘Something to say?’

He’d shed his stunning suit and was now clad in gym shorts and singlet, apparently sweating out his aggravations, and looked even more gorgeous while hestillworked.

‘I cannot believe you have an indoor cycle on an airplane,’ she said stonily. The machine was bolted to the floor.

‘It helps with jet lag.’

He was soperfect, wasn’t he? So controlled. Physically active, he ate well, and worst of all, he was still reading a report while doing it. Multitasking with his annoying ability to concentrate.

‘You really are a workaholic,’ she muttered.

‘You will be too once you get back.’ He smiled at her patronisingly. ‘Your business will be everything.’

‘It wasn’t a compliment.’ She corrected him. ‘Is money all that matters to you?’

‘It’s not money that drives me but the company itself. It’s my heritage and my responsibility and I’m proud that I’ve grown it.’

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