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wasn’t following his base instincts and taking her here and now. Either on the couch earlier, or here in his office. Or following her to her bedroom. She was here. She was his. She was making him pay for it. But he wouldn’t do it now. Because she made him feel a little wild and out of control.
She reminded him far too easily of the raw, ambitious young man he’d once been. Desperate to be a part of the world she’d so easily inhabited because he’d believed that if he was, then he’d truly be as far away from stagnating in his home town as he could possibly be. But he’d changed since then. Being forced into exile had made him appreciate his home and where he came from. It had given him a more balanced view.
He might not want to be a part of his family’s cosy, settled world, but he respected it and their choices. A tiny voice mocked him, reminding him that sometimes when he went back now he found himself feeling a pang when he saw the interaction between his sisters and their husbands and children. It even made him feel slightly threatened—as if, if he stayed too long, everything he’d worked for would disappear and he’d become that young man again, with nothing to his name.
He would not let Siena bring back those memories or reduce him to such baseness. She’d done it once before, before he’d even realised what was happening, and she’d torn his world apart.
No, he would be urbane and civilised—all the things he’d become since he’d stood before her in Paris and been made to feel utterly helpless, at the mercy of the huge emotions seething inside his gut. She didn’t have that power over him any more and she never would.
* * *
Back in her room, Siena struggled to get the diamond bracelet off but refused to go and ask Andreas for help. She was far too volatile when in close proximity to him. Finally it sprang free and Siena put it down with a kind of fascinated horror. He’d given her a diamond bracelet—just like that. Tomorrow he’d be giving her a lot more. And tomorrow night…
Siena sank back down onto the end of the bed and crossed her arms over her belly.
She wanted to hate Andreas for this…but she had no real reason to hate him. So he’d used her five years ago, when she’d all but thrown herself at him…? What young red-blooded man wouldn’t have done the same? It wasn’t his fault it had meant nothing to him. She was the one who had imbued the situation with a silly fantasy that something special had happened between them. Had he deserved to lose his job and be beaten up over it? No.
She shivered when she thought of that young beaten man, getting on his bike to ride away that dawn morning, and the man he’d become now. For a second that morning, despite his anger, Siena had had a fantasy of getting on the back of that bike with him and fleeing into the dawning light. If she hadn’t had to think of her sister she might well have done it.
Siena knew very well that if Andreas hadn’t stopped kissing her the other night in her flat he would have had her there and then, realised that she was woefully inexperienced, and most likely walked away without a backward glance, having satisfied his curiosity and his desire for revenge. Treacherously, that thought didn’t fill her with the kind of relief it ought to.
What happened to her when he touched her was scary. It was as if he short-circuited her ability to think rationally. When she’d woken on the couch earlier and found him staring at her she’d reacted viscerally: her blood humming and her body coming alive. There hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation in that acceptance. And then she’d realised where she was and why and reality had come tumbling back…
Andreas’s restraint towards her told her that he was in far more control of this situation than she was. The thought of going out in public…the thought of Andreas making love to her… Siena would have to call on that well-worn icy public persona—the one her father had so approved of because it made her seem untouchable and aloof. Desirable. Unattainable.
She clenched her hands to fists. The only problem was, she was all too attainable. The minute Andreas touched her aloof and icy went out of the window to be replaced with heat and insanity.
* * *
Much to Siena’s relief, when she woke and went exploring in the morning there was no sign of Andreas initially—but her skin prickled with that preternatural awareness that told her he was somewhere in the apartment. She figured he might be in his study, and made sure to avoid going near it.
To her added relief there was an array of breakfast things left out in the kitchen, but she didn’t like the way her belly swooped at the thought that he’d done this for her. She poured herself some coffee, which was still hot, and took a croissant with some preserves over to the table and sat down.
‘Nice of you to join the land of the living. I was beginning to think I might need a bucket of cold water to wake you.’
Siena looked up and nearly choked on her croissant. She hadn’t even heard him coming in, and to see him dressed in jeans and a dark polo shirt moulded to his impressive chest was sending tendrils of sensation through every vein in her body.
She swallowed with difficulty, but before she could say anything Andreas was looking at his watch and saying, with not a little acerbity, ‘Well, it is ten a.m., I expect this is relatively early for you?’
Siena fought down a wave of hurt as she thought of how hard she’d been working for the last few months. Usually by now she’d have done half a day’s work. But of course he was referring to her previous life. In fact she’d always been an early riser, up before anyone else. What she wasn’t used to, however, was the current exhaustion she was feeling, thanks to the unaccustomed hard work. And that made her angry at herself for being so weak.
She kept all of this hidden and said to Andreas sweetly, ‘Well, I’d hate to disappoint you. Tomorrow I can make it midday, if you like?’
He prowled closer, after helping himself to more coffee, and said, ‘I’d like it very much if we were in bed together till one o’clock.’
It took a monumental effort not to react to his provocative statement. He was so audacious. He sat down at the table, long legs stretched out, far too close to Siena’s. She fought the urge to move her own legs.
‘Yes, well, I can’t imagine you neglecting your business to that level.’ After all, she knew well how her father had consistently relegated his children to the periphery, only to be trotted out for social situations.
She looked away from that far too provocatively close rangy body and concentrated on eating the croissant.
‘Don’t worry,’ Andreas commented drily, ‘my business is doing just fine.’
Siena flashed back, ‘At the expense of all those poor people who are losing their jobs just because of your insatiable ambition.’
Andreas’s eyes narrowed on her and Siena cursed herself. Now she’d exposed herself as having followed his progress.
‘So you read the papers? I would have thought that you should know better than to believe everything you read in print. And since when have you been concerned with the poor people?’
