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He thought she was upset about the wedding, and about her mother. He couldn’t know that a whole other incident had usurped everything else in her mind.
‘Thank you, but I have to stay until Olivia leaves. It will raise questions if I ghost earlier.’
‘Fair enough. But the offer is there.’
‘Lord Highbury.’ She would know Alejandro’s voice anywhere. She stiffened, turning to face him, wondering how long he’d been standing there.
‘Alex!’ To her surprise, mild-mannered Andrew smiled broadly, reaching out an enthusiastic hand and shaking Alejandro’s—Alex’s—in it. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here.’
‘Luca and I went to school together.’ He flicked his gaze to Sienna and a thousand sparks ignited. There was anger simmering in his gaze. Or was she misreading him? She couldn’t say. Her fingers curled more tightly around her champagne.
‘Of course, of course. I should have thought. I haven’t seen you in almost a year. Are you well?’
How did Andrew know Alejandro? And how well?
‘Yes.’ He didn’t ask the same questions of Andrew. ‘I promised Sienna a dance earlier. Excuse me.’ He reached for her hand and she was so surprised that she didn’t pull away, she didn’t say anything, she simply stared up at him, the contact searing her soul.
‘And who are you?’ Gertie’s voice, though made frail by age, still reached through the tension, drawing Alejandro’s impatient gaze.
‘Alejandro Corderó.’
Corderó.She tasted the word in her mouth, whispering it to herself, before realising that Gertie was watching her from between shrewd eyes.
Pull it together.
‘And how do you know our Sienna?’
The possessive nature of the question was obvious, so too his reaction: his hand tightening around hers.
‘Through Luca. Excuse us.’
Belatedly, as they cut through the crowd, Sienna went to pull her hand away but he held it fast, his eyes turning to her, pinning her with a warning.
‘What are you doing?’ she muttered.
‘Dancing.’
‘I don’t want to dance with you,’ she lied, and he knew it was a lie, a look of mockery on his face when he turned to face her. He didn’t take her to the middle of the dance floor and she was glad; instead, he found a spot on the edge, where there was less light, more privacy, and pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest.
Sparks flew. She felt each and every one of them embed in her body, felt their heat and warmth, and knew the answer to that warmth, she knew exactly how to relieve them. ‘I am leaving after this dance.’
Emptiness trapped her stomach. She stopped moving, and simply stared up at him. It was a betraying gesture and she hated herself for showing it to him, but it occurred to Sienna that she was never going to see this man again. She hadn’t expected she would, and yet the realisation that he was about to walk out of her life just as abruptly as he’d walked into it filled her mouth with sawdust.
‘Fine. It’s late. I’m sure Luca won’t mind. I need to stay until the end, until my sister leaves—’
She was babbling. She clamped her lips together and focussed on a point to the right of his shoulder. He drew her closer, holding her body against his body, so she was aware of every part of him, aware of what he felt like, of what he looked like, aware of how his weight had pressed her to the chair, aware of what it was to want someone with your whole, entire heart. Except her heart wasn’t the issue, so much as a suddenly awakened libido.
‘Listen to me.’
She swallowed, pressing her lips together, waiting.
‘I presumed you were experienced. Not necessarily very experienced, but that you at least had some.’
She glared at him. ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
His eyes flashed to hers. ‘I did not say I was disappointed by anything we shared, querida.’
And despite the grim look on his face, she felt a hum of warmth at the admission—or as close as he was going to get to an actual admission—that he had enjoyed what they’d shared despite her inexperience.
