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‘We should go or we’ll be late.’
Andrea’s terse voice made Siena jump slightly. She’d been caught up in the memory. She turned around and wondered if she’d ever get used to the little shock of awe when she saw him in a tuxedo. Thinking of the previous evening and what had happened made Siena look down, hiding her gaze. She picked up her wrap and bag and for the first time could appreciate the armour of her shimmering black designer dress. The heavy weight of a diamond necklace at her throat, the earrings in her ears and the bracelet on her wrist would keep her anchored tonight. She couldn’t afford to lose herself for a second. Or let him goad her.
If Andreas had a hint of her vulnerability he’d annihilate her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANDREAS WAS DRIVING them to the function in his sports car. It served the purpose of occupying his hands and his mind, so that he wasn’t in danger of ravishing Siena in the confined space of the back of his chauffeur-driven car. He would not debase himself again by proving that he could not last a few minutes without touching her. He didn’t want to think of the amount of times he’d almost made love to her in the back of that car.
It made him think of the other night and how he’d still had to touch her even when she’d detonated a small internal bomb with her question about whether or not he wanted children. He didn’t want to remember how she’d looked when he’d likened her to Estella from Great Expectations not once, but twice. It had worked, though. He’d welcomed the anger sparking in her eyes. Far easier to deal with that than the look in her eyes when she’d asked her question so inoccuously.
Lovers had asked Andreas before if he wanted children, and in every case Andreas had looked at them coolly and mentally ended the affair with little or no regret. Siena had asked and he had felt a primal surge of something very proprietorial. Something very disturbing that wasn’t an immediate and categoric rejection of what should be anathema to him. In that moment he’d felt exposed and reminded of his humiliation in Paris. Had Siena seen something he’d been unaware of? Something that had told her it was okay to ask that question because one week would not be enough for him? Because inevitably he couldn’t help but want more?
Andreas had felt like Pip then, from that great book. Chasing after an ever unattainable beauty. Forever destined to fall short. And so he’d lashed out. Had watched her pale and told himself she was acting.
He needed to maintain the distance he’d instigated in Paris. Too much had made him uneasy there and since: Siena’s insight into why he’d bought that hotel, the hunger for her which only seemed to be growing stronger, not weaker, and the way she’d asked him about his family…making him remember what he’d worked so hard to avoid.
So much of Andreas’s youthful rejection of his family had been brought into sharp focus after his humiliating rejection at her hands. He’d gone abroad with little or no warning, and he knew it had confused and upset his parents. They’d never really understood his hunger to succeed, how he’d had an irrational fear of not making it out of that small town—especially after Spiro had died.
Andreas reminded himself that this wasn’t a relationship like any other. With other lovers Andreas made an effort, small-talked, was witty and charming. With Siena it was about settling a score, sating the fever in his blood, exorcising the demons. He conveniently blocked out the fact that he appeared to be no closer to his goal than he had been a few days ago…
* * *
A couple of hours later Siena was feeling pain in the balls of her feet from the high heels. She wondered what Andreas would say if he knew that, contrary to his opinion of her, she’d give her right arm never to go to one of these functions again. Just then a tall, very good-looking man with dark hair approached Andreas and the two men greeted each other warmly. Siena found herself transfixed by Andreas’s wide smile. She’d seen it so rarely since they’d met again, and never directed at her.
He was introducing the stranger. ‘This is Rafaele Falcone, of Falcone Industries. He’s recently moved to London to extend his domination of the motor industry.’
Siena recognised the name of the iconic Italian car company and put her hand out. She smiled at the other man, who matched Andreas in height and build. He truly was sinfully gorgeous, with astonishing green eyes, and Siena had a fleeting moment of wishing he would have some effect on her which might prove that Andreas didn’t dominate her every sense. But when their hands touched there was nothing—despite the fact that Rafaele held her hand for a split second longer than was necessary, with a smile that made Siena feel like apologising because its effect was wasted on her.
‘If you find things getting dull with Xenakis, do give me a call.’
He was handing her a card, flirting outrageously, and Siena found herself smiling at his chutzpah with genuine amusement. She was reaching for the card out of politeness when it disappeared into Andreas’s fingers. His arm had come around her waist and brought her to his side in a way that had her looking at him, bemused. He’d never claimed her like this in public before.
Rafaele Falcone was putting up his hands in a gesture of mock defeat and backing away. ‘We’ll talk soon, Xenakis, I’ll be interested to hear how that deal goes, and I have a new car being launched next month that I think you’ll like…’
His gaze encompassed Siena and she flushed, suddenly not liking the way he was all but telling her of his interest if she were not with Andreas. She wasn’t really used to this kind of casual interplay. Her father had always been so protective.
When he’d turned and walked away Andreas let Siena go and turned to her. He was livid, and Siena took a step back.
‘Don’t even think about it.’
Siena was genuinely confused. ‘Think about what?’
Andreas jerked his head in the direction of his departing friend. ‘Falcone is off-limits.’
Rage filled Siena, and she knew it was coming from a dangerous place—more from Andreas’s dogged coolness in the past few days than what he’d just said. His possessiveness made her feel something altogether much more disturbing.
‘How dare you? When we’re done I can do what I like, and I intend to. If I think that includes having a rampant affair with Rafaele Falcone then I’ll be sure to give him a call.’
For a second Andreas looked so feral that Siena felt fear snake down her spine. He looked capable of violence.
‘You’re mine, Siena,’ he growled. ‘No one else’s.’
She lashed back. ‘One week, Xenakis. I’m yours for one week. You’re the one who put a time limit on it.’ Realisation hit her then, along with something very hollow. ‘And that one week is up in two days—or have you come to enjoy my company so much that you’d forgotten? Perhaps you want more?’
Siena wasn’t sure what was goading her when she said waspishly, ‘If you’re so concerned with keeping me out of other men’s beds it’s going to cost you a lot more than a few baubles.’
‘So this is how you’re funding yourself
