She had seen his hazel eyes follow her all evening when she had helped bring in the family’s meal. She had sensed his male appraisal as she brought in the coffee and liqueurs to the salone. His nostrils had flared when she had leant down to place his cup beside him, as if he was breathing in her fragrance. Her hair had brushed against his arm and she had felt the electric current of awareness shoot through her body. He had looked at her then with those green and brown-flecked eyes of his and she had known he wanted her.
She had felt it.
She had waited for him in his bedroom, draping herself alluringly across his bed, dressed only in her knickers and bra, nervous but excited at the same time. Her body had tingled all over in anticipation.
The door had opened and Andreas had stood there for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. But then he seemed to give himself a mental shake and his expression immediately locked down, becoming stony, marble-like. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ he growled. ‘Get dressed and get out.’
Sienna had been crushed. She had been so certain he wanted her. She had seen it. She had felt it. She had sensed it in the air. The heavily charged atmosphere had practically exploded with erotic tension. The same tension she could see in his body even though he had done his best to hide it. ‘I want you to make love to me,’ she said. ‘I know you want me. I’ve known it for ages.’
His mouth had been so tight it looked as if it had been drawn there with a thin felt tip pen. ‘You’re mistaken, Sienna,’ he said. ‘I have no interest in you whatsoever.’
Sienna had got off the bed and approached him. It had been brazen of her and impulsive but she had wanted to prove to him that what she felt was not just a figment of her youthful imagination. ‘I want you, Andreas,’ she said in a sultry tone as she reached for him.
Andreas had grasped her by the upper arms just as the door opened …
Sienna blinked herself out of the past. She didn’t want to remember that dreadful scene between Andreas and his father. She didn’t want to remember the unforgivable lies she had told. She had been desperate, terrified that her mother would lose the job she loved so much. The words had come tumbling out, a river of nonsense that she had regretted ever since. Andreas had never come home again, not even when his mother lay dying.
When Sienna looked up Andreas was standing behind the boardroom table, his steely gaze focused on her. ‘There are some practicalities we need to sort out,’ he said.
She resisted the urge to moisten her bark-dry lips. ‘Practicalities?’
‘The will states we have to live together as man and wife,’ he said. ‘That means you will have to sleep wherever I sleep.’
Sienna shot to her feet so fast the chair toppled over behind her. ‘I’m not sleeping with you!’
He rolled his eyes as if dealing with an imbecile. ‘Not in the same bed, Sienna, but under the same roof,’ he said. ‘We have to put on a show for the public.’
She blinked at him. ‘You mean we have to act as if we really wanted to be married to each other?’
He continued to look at her with that unwavering hazel gaze. ‘As much as it pains me to say this, yes, we will have to act as if we’re in love.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ she gasped. ‘I can’t do that! Everyone knows how much I hate you.’
‘Likewise,’ he said dryly, ‘but it’s only for six months and it’s only when we’re in public. We can wrestle each other to the ground when we’re alone.’
Sienna felt her cheeks flame with colour as the images his words conjured up flooded her brain. ‘I haven’t the faintest clue how to wrestle.’
‘Perhaps I could teach you,’ he said with a slanting smile that contained a hint of mockery and something else she didn’t even want to think about identifying. ‘The only thing you have to remember is the winner is the one who finishes on top.’
Sienna turned away so he couldn’t see how hot and bothered she felt. Her body felt as if it were on fire. Her skin was prickling all over as she thought of his strong lean body pinning hers beneath his. ‘How soon do we have to … you know … make things official?’
‘As soon as possible,’ he said. ‘I’ve applied for a special licence. It should come through any day now.’
‘And what sort of wedding do you have in mind?’ she asked, turning to look at him again.
‘You’re surely not hankering for a white wedding?’ he said with a mocking arch of one of his eyebrows.
She gave him a flippant look in return. ‘It’s supposed to be the bride’s day.’
‘You’ve already been a bride.’ He held her gaze for a microsecond before adding in disgust, ‘To a man old enough to be your grandfather.’
Sienna raised her chin at him. ‘At least I loved him.’
His lip curled. ‘You loved his money, you trashy little gold-digger,’ he said. ‘Did he make you earn every penny by opening your legs on command?’
She gave him her wild-child smile, the one the press had documented time and time again—the one that painted her as a sleep-around-slut on the make. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ she asked.
He flung himself away from the table, thrusting his hands deep in his trouser pockets as if he didn’t trust himself not to shake her till her teeth rattled.
Sienna found it exhilarating to know she had yanked his chain. He was always so cool and in control, but there was a side to him only she brought out. It was his primitive side, the raw male side that wanted to dominate and subdue her. The thought of him making her submit to him made her skin lift in a shiver.
She would fight him tooth and nail.
Andreas took some steadying breaths. She was doing it deliberately, of course. Trying her best to get under his skin, to prove nothing had changed in spite of the passage of time. How could one woman have such an effect on him?
He was not a slave to lust.
He had abhorred that in his father, how he had betrayed his wife of more than thirty years to bed a common tart.
Andreas prided himself on his self-control. He had the normal urges of any full-blooded male, but he always chose his partners with discretion. The women he slept with had class and poise. They were not headstrong harpies. They did not stir in him such unbridled passion.
He never lost his head.
But something about Sienna inflamed him and he had no control over it. He wanted to drive himself in her as hard and deeply as he could. He wanted to rut her like a wild animal did a random mate. He wanted to tame her, to have her submit to him in every way possible. His body ached and burned for her feverishly.
She was the forbidden fruit he had always prided himself he could resist.
That was no doubt why his father had set things up the way he had. He had known the temptation Sienna had always been for him. His father could not have thought of a worse punishment than tying her to him, dangling her under his nose, day in and day out. What had he been thinking? Had his father really hated him that much?
Andreas turned back to face Sienna. She was sitting down again, her jeans-clad legs propped up on the desk, her arms folded across her chest, which pushed her beautiful breasts upwards, looking every bit the impudent schoolgirl called into the headmaster’s office. She had a lamentable disrespect for authority. She was wilful and defiant. She didn’t know the meaning of the word respect. She could be surly and then sunny in the blink of an eye. She could be a sultry siren one second and an innocent waif the next.
He didn’t have a clue how he was going to manage this farcical arrangement, but manage it he would, even if it meant sleeping with her to get her out of his system once and for all.
Every drop of his blood sizzled at the thought.
‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t found a place yet,’ she said. ‘I only just flew in.’
‘Where are your things?’
‘I didn’t bring anything with me,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d leave the wardrobe arrangement
s up to you. I figured the stuff I normally wear won’t suit.’
He stared at her incredulously. ‘You came here with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing?’
She gave him a feisty look. ‘If I’m going to act the part, I need to dress for it. But you can pay for it, not me.’
‘I have no problem with footing the bill,’ Andreas said. ‘It just seems a little unconventional, if not impetuous, for a young woman of your age to fly about the globe with nothing but jeans and a T-shirt and a handbag. Most of the women I know carry enough make-up and toiletries to sink a ship.’
‘I’m very low maintenance,’ she said.
‘I very much doubt it,’ he muttered.
She lowered her slim legs to the floor with a movement that was both coltish and graceful. ‘I’ll need a place to stay until we make things official,’ she said. ‘A five-star hotel will do nicely.’
‘You can stay at my villa.’ He scribbled the address on a sheet of paper and pushed it across the desk to her. ‘I want you right under my nose where I can keep an eye on you.’
‘You think I’ll spill my guts to the press like your ex-fiancée did?’ she asked with an insolent smile as she popped the folded paper inside her bra.
‘Technically, she wasn’t my fiancée,’ he said, tearing his gaze away from the tempting sight of her pert breasts. ‘I hadn’t got that far. I had bought a ring, however. You can borrow it if you like.’
She gave him a slitted-eye glare. ‘Don’t even think about it, Rich Boy,’ she said. ‘I want my own ring, not someone else’s.’
Andreas came over to where she was standing. He could feel the force field of her as soon as he crossed that invisible line. Her summery fragrance assaulted his nostrils, a combination of flowers and feminine warmth that was as heady as any mind-altering drug. This close, he could see the tiny dusting of freckles over the bridge of her retroussé nose and the tiniest of chickenpox scars above her left eyebrow.
Almost of its own volition, his gaze flicked down to her mouth.
Lust gave him a knockout punch in the gut when he saw the way the tip of her tongue darted out to leave a glistening layer of moisture on those plump, ripe lips.
He fought his leaping pulse back under control, dragging his gaze back to her glittering one. ‘This is all a game to you, isn’t it?’ he said.
Her top lip curled at him and her grey-blue eyes glittered. ‘You were going to kiss me, weren’t you?’
Andreas ground his teeth until he thought he’d have to eat jelly for the rest of his life. ‘I want to throttle you, not kiss you,’ he said.
‘You put one finger on me and see what happens,’ she said, matching him stare for stare.
Andreas already knew what would happen. He could feel it in his body. It was thundering through his veins like a torpedo. He couldn’t think of a time when he had felt such forceful, uncontrollable desire. It was like being a hormone-driven teenager all over again. Dynamite couldn’t do more damage than Sienna in temptress mode. ‘Get out of my sight,’ he ground out savagely.
She put up her chin. ‘Say please.’
He strode over to the door, holding it open pointedly. ‘Out.’
She tossed the silver-blonde curtain of her hair back behind her shoulders. ‘If I’m going to stay at your place I’ll need a key,’ she said.
‘The housekeeper will let you in,’ Andreas said. ‘I’ll call her now and tell her to expect you.’
‘What will you tell her and the rest of your staff about us?’ she asked.
‘I don’t make a habit of exchanging confidences with the household staff at any of my residences,’ he said. ‘They will assume it’s a normal marriage, just like everyone else.’
A little frown appeared over her grey-blue eyes. ‘Even though we won’t be sharing a room?’
Andreas felt that punch to his gut again. He could think of nothing more tempting than rolling around his bed with her legs wrapped around his waist, his body buried to the hilt in hers. His blood thickened and pulsed as he thought of how it would feel to finally satiate this need he had harboured so long. He would have his fill of her once and for all. In six months he would walk away. He would finally be immune. Free. In control.
‘It’s very common for people with villas the size of mine to occupy different suites,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t make sense to cram into one room when there are thirty others to choose from.’
Her eyes went wide. ‘That big, huh?’
‘It’s bigger than my father’s.’
A little smile played about the corners of her mouth. ‘I just bet it is,’ she said.
Andreas took out his wallet and handed her a credit card. ‘Here,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘Go shopping. Get your hair and nails done. Have coffee. Have a meal. I won’t be back till late. Don’t wait up.’
She took the card from him without touching his fingers and popped it in her bag. She moved past him in the doorway, not touching but close enough for every hair on his body to stand to attention and for every blood vessel to expand and throb. He was about to let out the breath he was holding when she suddenly stopped and turned back to look at him. ‘Do you have any idea why your father did this?’ she asked.
‘No idea at all.’
She chewed at her lower lip for a moment, a shadow passing like a cloud over her face. ‘He must have really hated me …’
‘What makes you think that?’ he asked, frowning at her. ‘This is about me, not you. My father hated me as much as I hated him.’
A little beat of silence passed.
‘I’d better get going,’ she said with an overly bright smile. ‘So many things to buy, so little time. Ciao.’
Andreas closed the door once she had left and leant back against it heavily, a frown tugging at his forehead. Half an hour with Sienna was like being in the middle of a hurricane with nothing but a paper parasol for protection.
How was he going to get through six months?
CHAPTER THREE
SIENNA took a taxi to Andreas’s Tuscan estate once she had finished shopping. The Renaissance-style villa was a few kilometres outside Florence, set amongst acres of olive groves and vineyards in the Chianti region of Tuscany, made famous for its wine. The fading afternoon sunshine cast a spectacular light over the fresh growth on the vines. Flowers in an array of bright colours tumbled from baskets hanging near the entrance to the villa. It was breathtakingly beautiful and a jolting reminder of the wealth Andreas had been born into and had never questioned. Sure, he had forged his own way with his furniture designs, but he had never had to worry about bills not being paid or where the next meal was coming from. It was hard not to feel a teensy bit jealous. Why did he even want his mother’s wretched chateau in Provence when he had all of this?
The thought of owning a property like the chateau made Sienna wonder if she should set about making him default on the will by making it impossible to live with her. It was a tempting thought: a chateau of her own, her own patch of paradise. It wasn’t as if Andreas would be left homeless or anything. He had homes everywhere. The one in Florence was his base, but she knew for a fact he had a villa in Barbados as well as one somewhere in Spain.
The door of the villa opened and a motherly-looking woman who introduced herself as Elena smiled as she ushered Sienna in. ‘Signor Ferrante told me you would be arriving this evening,’ she said. ‘I have made up the Rose Suite for you.’ She winked knowingly. ‘It is right next to his.’
Sienna forced a smile. ‘That was very thoughtful of you.’
‘It is no trouble,’ Elena said. ‘I was young and madly in love once. I met my husband and within a month we were married. I knew Signor Ferrante would change his mind about that one.’
Sienna frowned slightly. ‘Erm … “That one”?’
Elena made a noise that sounded something like a snort. ‘Princess Portia. She was never happy. I had to fetch and carry. She did not like red meat. She did not like cheese. She only ate this. She only ate that. I
nearly went crazy.’
‘Maybe she was thinking of her figure,’ Sienna offered generously.
The housekeeper gave another snort of disapproval. ‘She is not the right one for Signor Ferrante,’ she said. ‘He needs a woman who is as passionate as he is.’
Sienna couldn’t help wondering exactly what Andreas had told his housekeeper about their relationship or whether Elena had assumed their whirlwind courtship had come about because they had suddenly fallen deeply in love. Or, even more worryingly, could the housekeeper see something in Sienna that she desperately wanted to keep hidden? It wasn’t as if she still had a crush on Andreas or anything. She didn’t love him. She hated him. But that didn’t mean his physical presence didn’t disturb her. It did, and way too much. ‘You seem to know him very well,’ she said.
Elena smiled. ‘He’s a good man. He’s very generous and hard-working, too. He helps in the vineyard whenever he can, and the orchards. You knew him before? I read about it in the paper. Your mamma used to work for his family, sì?’
‘Sì,’ Sienna said. ‘My mother took up the position as head housekeeper when I was fourteen. Andreas wasn’t living at home then, of course, but we ran into each other from time to time.’
‘Friends to lovers, sì?’ Elena said, smiling broadly.
‘Erm … something like that.’
‘I can see the fire in your eyes,’ Elena said. ‘He will be happy with you. I can tell these things. You will make good babies with him, sì?’
Sienna felt her face grow hot. ‘We haven’t talked about kids. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind affair, actually.’
‘The best ones are,’ Elena said with matronly authority. ‘Come, I’ll show you your new home. You’ll want to settle in before Signor Ferrante gets back.’
Sienna followed the cheery housekeeper on a tour of the villa. It was even bigger than she had expected. Room after room, suite after suite, all beautifully and tastefully decorated. It occurred to her that in a villa this size she could pass six months without even running into Andreas, or anyone else for that matter.
Enemies at the Altar Page 3
