‘Signor Ferrante is going to be … how you say?’ Elena said. ‘Knocked out by you, sì?’
Sienna gave the housekeeper what she hoped passed for a convincing smile. ‘I’ll be glad when this bit is over,’ she said, smoothing a hand over her abdomen. ‘My stomach feels like a hive of bees.’
‘Wedding jitters,’ Elena said reassuringly. ‘It happens to every bride.’
Sienna didn’t feel like a bride. She felt like a fraud. She thought of her twin sister preparing for her big day with Emilio and she felt a twinge of something that felt very much like pain. When she was a little girl she had dreamed of a white wedding with all the trimmings: a church filled with fragrant flowers, with bridesmaids and flower girls and a cute little ring-bearer. She had envisaged a horse-drawn carriage and footmen just like Cinderella. She had imagined a handsome husband who would look down at her as he lifted back her veil with such love and adoration that her heart would swell like a balloon.
But then her dreams and reality had always had a problem socialising.
‘Come,’ Elena said. ‘Franco has brought the car around. It’s time to leave.’
Andreas was waiting at the foot of the stairs when Sienna came down. He hadn’t been sure what to expect. He had wondered if she would appear in her signature torn denim or a ridiculously short skirt or even bare feet. He hadn’t been expecting a vision in designer cream satin that was so stylish and yet so elegantly simple it quite literally took his breath away.
Her silver-blonde hair was up in a classic French roll that showed off her swan-like neck to perfection. Her make-up was understated but somehow it worked brilliantly to showcase the luminosity of her flawless skin. Her grey-blue eyes had a hint of eye shadow and her lashes were long and lustrous with mascara. Her model-like cheekbones were defined by a subtle sweep of bronzer and her lips adorned with a glisten of pink-tinted lipgloss.
The only thing she lacked was jewellery.
An elbow of remorse nudged him in the ribs. He should have thought to buy her something but he had assumed she would spend up big all by herself since he had given her carte blanche on the credit card he had issued her with.
‘You look magnificent,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look quite so beautiful.’
‘Amazing what a bit of money splashed around can do,’ she said in a flippant tone. ‘You don’t want to know what this dress cost. And don’t get me started on the shoes.’
He took her hand as she stepped from the last stair, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘At least you’re wearing them,’ he said. ‘I was wondering if you might go without.’
‘Watch this space,’ she said with a wry twist of her mouth. ‘These are what I call car-to-the-bar shoes. They’re not meant for walking unless you want to end up with seriously deformed toes.’
Andreas was aware of Elena and Franco hovering in the background, looking suspiciously like the proud parents of the bride. In the space of a week Sienna had charmed them, along with the feral dog. She certainly had a way about her that was unlike any other woman he had associated with before. But then she was very good at fooling people into believing she was all sweetness and light, when underneath that friendly façade was a cold and calculating little madam who—like her mangy dog—could lash out and bite when you were least expecting it.
Andreas turned to Franco. ‘Give us a few minutes, there’s something I have to give Sienna before we leave.’
‘Sì, signor.’
‘Come,’ Andreas said to Sienna, leading her by the hand towards his study. ‘I have something for you.’
‘God, my feet are already killing me,’ Sienna said, click-clacking beside him.
‘This won’t take long,’ Andreas said, closing the door once they were inside the study.
‘Have you bought me a present?’ she asked with bright interest in her eyes.
Another sharp elbow of guilt nudged him. ‘No,’ he said. He opened the safe and took out the box that contained a pearl and diamond necklace and matching droplet earrings. ‘These are just on loan.’
‘They’re beautiful,’ Sienna said, peering at them for a moment before straightening. ‘But if you bought them for your ex, then forget about it. I’d rather go without.’
Andreas lifted the necklace off its bed of maroon velvet. ‘These belonged to my mother,’ he said. ‘She wore them on her wedding day.’
She looked at the jewels without touching them. ‘I’m not sure your mother would appreciate me wearing her jewellery.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘It seems a bit … tacky, given the circumstances, don’t you think?’
Andreas rolled his thumb over one of the pearls as he looked at her. ‘Every Ferrante bride has worn them,’ he said. ‘They are a family heirloom.’
‘Oh … well, then,’ she said, turning her back to him. ‘That’s different. I wouldn’t want to break with tradition or anything.’
Andreas fastened the necklace around her neck, his fingers fumbling over the catch as his skin came into contact with the silk of hers. ‘You smell nice,’ he said. ‘Is that a new perfume?’
‘If you wanted me to stick to a budget then you should have said so,’ she said, turning around to scowl at him.
Andreas handed her the earrings. ‘I think you’ve shown remarkable restraint,’ he said. ‘But then it’s early days yet.’
She clipped on the earrings, still giving him the evil eye as she did so. ‘There,’ she said once she was done. ‘How do I look?’
‘Breathtaking,’ he said.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘It’s not every day a girl like me gets to marry a billionaire. I want to make the most of every single minute of it.’
Andreas held open the door, his jaw set in a tight line. Not if I can help it, he said beneath his breath as she sashayed past him.
Sienna had thought her marriage ceremony to Brian Littlemore had been a bit on the sterile and impersonal side but it had nothing on the clinical detachment of the service Andreas had organised. The vows were nothing like the ones she had composed in her girlish dreams. They were stilted and formal and she’d even been forced to say the O word. Obey.
She was fuming by the time it was almost over. Her lips felt as if they’d been stitched in place. Her teeth were half a centimetre down from grinding and her back was rigid with tension.
‘You may kiss the bride.’
The words jolted her out of her simmering fury. ‘I don’t think—’
Andreas drew her closer, one of his hands in the small of her back, the other holding the hand that had not long ago received the slim gold band that now bound her to him as his wife. ‘Relax, ma chèrie,’ he said in an undertone. ‘This one is for the cameras.’
‘What cam—?’
A flash went off but it wasn’t from any lurking cameras. It was a flare inside Sienna’s brain that almost took the top of her head off. As soon as Andreas’s lips touched down on hers she felt a tectonic shift of her equilibrium. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.
His lips were firm and yet soft.
Warm and yet dry.
He tasted of … she wasn’t quite sure. It was something she had never tasted before and yet it was incredibly addictive.
She wanted more.
She craved more.
Her hands went to the front of his chest. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her palm. It mimicked the erratic rhythm of hers. He felt warm and male and vital. He felt strong and capable and arrantly potent.
His tongue stroked along the seam of her lips, a bold and commanding stroke that didn’t ask permission for entry, but rather demanded it.
She opened to him on a soft little whimper, her stomach dropping in delight as his tongue deftly found hers. She felt the stirring of his arousal, the hot, hard length of him swelling against her as his mouth wreaked sensual havoc on hers. She moved closer, an instinctive, almost involuntary shift against him that evoked a husky-sounding groan from his throat as he deepened the kiss even
further.
‘Ahem …’ The celebrant cleared his throat. ‘I have another ceremony in five minutes.’
Sienna stepped out of Andreas’s hold, her heart still galloping like a racehorse on steroids. Her mouth was tingling, every nerve alive with feeling, her lips swollen and sensitive from the pressure of his. She ran the tip of her tongue over them and tasted his hot male potency. Her stomach gave another tripping movement as she looked up at his darkly hooded gaze …
A flash went off but this time it was the surge of the paparazzi.
‘Looks like it’s show time,’ Andreas said grimly and, taking her hand in his, led her towards the pack of journalists and photographers.
Sienna’s emotions were in such turmoil she didn’t want to examine them too closely. She had responded with such wantonness to Andreas. She had forgotten everything but the feel of his mouth on hers. The whole world had ceased to exist in that heart-stopping moment when he had kissed her with such fiery passion and intent. She had felt the primal rhythm of his blood through the surface of his lips. She hadn’t wanted the kiss to end. Her insides were still trembling from the sensual onslaught of being in his arms.
It was at least an hour before they could escape. Her face felt stiff from all the fake smiling. Her head was aching and her feet were throbbing by the time they got back to where Franco was waiting for them in the car.
‘That went remarkably well,’ Andreas said once the partition between the driver and the passenger section was closed.
‘You think?’ Sienna bent down to prise off her shoes. ‘Ouch! I’ve got blisters.’
‘Elena will probably have an intimate dinner set up for us back at the villa,’ he said. ‘She’s a hopeless romantic so just go along with it.’
‘She reminds me of my flatmate Kate back in London,’ Sienna said, closing her eyes and flinging her head back against the headrest in bone-aching fatigue. ‘She thinks you’re going to fall in love with me before the end of this and beg me to stay with you for ever.’
‘I hope you put her straight on that.’
‘I did,’ she said flatly. ‘She forgot to factor in the fact that I wouldn’t stay on even if you paid me.’
Andreas gave a mocking laugh. ‘If the price was right you’d stay.’
Sienna turned her head on the headrest to glare at him. ‘Even you don’t have enough money to buy me, Rich Boy,’ she said. ‘And, just for the record, I am not going to obey you.’
He gave her a supercilious smile. ‘You just promised to do so in front of a legally appointed celebrant.’
‘I don’t care,’ she said, throwing her head back and closing her eyes again. ‘I am not going to bend to your will.’
‘So what was that kiss all about?’ he asked.
Sienna jerked upright in her seat to glower at him. ‘That was your doing, not mine,’ she said. ‘I was all geared up for the hands-off clinical deal we’d agreed on and then you sideswipe me with a wedding kiss. That was low. That was really low.’
His look was smouldering, and it centred on her mouth just long enough to set her lips tingling all over again. ‘It was a good kiss,’ he said. ‘I can see why you have the reputation you have. I was starting to think how it would feel to have those lips of yours on my—’
‘Will you stop it, for God’s sake?’ Sienna hissed at him. ‘My lips are going nowhere near your … your whatever. We’re meant to be keeping this strictly to the terms.’
He was still looking at her mouth with that hooded dark gaze. ‘We could always adjust the goalposts a little to suit our needs,’ he said. ‘After all, six months is a long time to be celibate.’
‘It’s not a long time for me.’
The words seemed to hang suspended in the air for a moment.
‘How long is a long time for you?’ Andreas asked.
Sienna felt the weight of his gaze but resolutely kept her head facing forward. ‘How long is a piece of string?’ she asked.
She heard him give a snort of derision. ‘You have no idea, do you?’ he said. ‘Do you even know the names of some of the men you’ve slept with?’
‘Not all of them,’ Sienna answered with ironic truthfulness. ‘Some men don’t require a personal introduction before they sleep with you.’
Andreas let out a breath of disgust. ‘You are such a shameless gold-digging whore,’ he said. ‘Don’t you have any self-respect?’
‘Plenty,’ Sienna said, lifting her chin. ‘I could’ve settled for the deal your father set up, but I know you’ll pay more to have what you want. And you want it. You want it so badly you’ll do anything to stop me from taking it from you.’
His hands went to white-knuckled fists on the armrests each side of him. ‘You’d better believe it,’ he said. ‘Don’t say you weren’t warned.’
CHAPTER FIVE
AS SOON as the car pulled up in front of his villa, Andreas wanted to head to the furthest reaches of the property to put as much distance as he could between him and Sienna. He wanted to regroup before she made him lose control completely. But for the sake of Franco and Elena’s presence he was forced to play the role of devoted husband, which included carrying his new bride over the threshold of the villa. He could already feel his blood simmering at the thought of holding her against his body.
Sienna gave a little gasp as he scooped her up in his arms. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘It’s considered bad luck not to carry one’s bride over the threshold,’ he said and strode to the door being held open by his housekeeper, who was smiling broadly.
Andreas felt his skin grow hot and tight where Sienna’s arms had looped around his neck. Her right breast was pressed against his thumping heart and the fragrance of her alluring perfume teased his nostrils. She was lighter than he had expected and she fitted against him like a glove. He tried not to look at her mouth. Tried not to remember how it had felt to taste her moist hot sweetness. The taste of her lingered on his tongue; it was a potent potion as addictive as a drug. One taste was not going to be enough. It was never going to be enough. But then he had always known that. He had fought it for so long. This raw need to have her as his had been a part of his life for so long he had no idea how to subdue it. It was an ache that resided deep within him. It would not go away, no matter how much he distracted or disciplined himself.
He wanted her.
He lowered her to the floor by sliding her down the length of his body, his blood roaring in response to her curves as they brushed against him.
He wanted her and he would have her.
He heard the soft intake of her breath and saw the flare of her pupils as her eyes meshed with his. The barrier of their clothes was no barrier at all. They might as well have been standing there naked.
Sienna glowered up at him. ‘Was that really necessary?’
‘But of course,’ Andreas said. ‘Elena and Franco were watching.’
‘Yeah, well, no one’s watching now,’ she said. ‘Let’s just step back into our true characters and tear strips off each other again.’
He gave a soft deep chuckle and pressed her even closer with his hand on the shapely curve of her bottom. ‘Why the hurry, ma petite?’ he said. ‘I’m getting to like the feel of you against me. You like it too, sì?’
Her eyes were pools of stormy grey and blue. ‘This is not part of the plan,’ she said, but she didn’t do anything to push him away. If anything her body shifted closer, a subtle movement that sent another hot lightning rod of lust straight to his groin.
‘Is it not?’ he asked with a mocking smile. ‘You’ve planned this from the start. You want me to think twice about ending this marriage when the time is up.’ He captured one of her hands and pressed his lips to each and every fingertip, watching as her eyes darkened with desire. ‘And what better way than to entice me into your bed as soon as you can?’
Her gaze flicked to his mouth, her tongue sweeping over her lips. ‘That’s not what I’m planning at all,’ she said in a breathless voi
ce. ‘I don’t want to be married to you any longer than I have to be.’
Andreas’s fingers tightened on hers. Her hand was dainty and small in the grasp of his. He could have broken her fingers with just the slightest pressure. He was so close to her he could feel her body warmth radiating through him. She smelt of summer, of jasmine and honeysuckle and red-hot temptation. The skin of her hand was soft against the roughness of his. He felt her fingers move experimentally against the cup of his palm, whether to test his hold or tease him, he wasn’t quite sure. It shouldn’t have had anywhere near the sensual impact it had. It felt as if she had dipped her hand down the front of his trousers and touched him flesh on flesh.
He brought his mouth down to hers for the second time that day, and for the second time in his life a seismic shift knocked him sideways.
She tasted of sweet, hot, forbidden longings. He couldn’t get enough of her delicious moistness. He fed off her with a greed he hadn’t known existed. He savaged her mouth like a hungry beast on a rampage.
It was rapacious. It was primitive. It was raw male lust let off the leash. He hadn’t realised how out of control a kiss could get until he thrust through the seam of her lips in search of her tongue.
Hers was hot and moist and brazen. It danced with his in a tango that was as sexy as anything he had ever experienced. It shot fireworks off in his head. Desire filled him so tightly he thought he would explode. His teeth scraped against hers. She bit him and he bit her back. It only made him want her more.
He thrust a hand at the back of her head, his fingers burying deep into her scalp as he explored her mouth with a thoroughness that left both of them breathless. His hand found her breast. It filled his palm with sensual heat, the tight bud of her nipple pressing against him. She felt so damn good, so feminine and soft. His need pulsed and pounded against her belly.
He wanted her naked.
He wanted to see her silky skin, every gorgeous inch of it. He wanted to taste her feminine heat, to move his lips and tongue against her to make her scream with ecstasy. He wanted to drive himself deep within her honeyed warmth, to feel the tight grip of her body contracting around him as she came.
Enemies at the Altar Page 6
