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CHAPTER ONE
‘YOULOOKASthough you’d rather be anywhere but here.’
Sienna grimaced even before she turned to address the voice that had spoken, wishing she had been more successful at hiding her feelings and thoughts, wishing she had done a better job of looking as everyone wanted her to.
Naturally, she intended to deny the claim until she was blue in the face, but any idea of speaking flew from her mind the minute her eyes landed on the man who possessed the voice. It wasn’t as if he was the first handsome man she’d seen in her life, but, then again, handsome was a manifestly insufficient word to describe him.
Handsome was a word that was safe and ordinary, mild and run-of-the-mill, and none of those adjectives could be safely applied to the man who stood beside her, quirked lips that were moulded with obvious cynicism, eyes the exact colour of the sky at midday, deep blue, flecked with silver and black, so she stared into them and felt as though she were falling through space. His face was perfectly symmetrical, his jaw squared, as though shaped from stone, his brows thick and a dark brown, to match his slightly waved hair. He wore a tuxedo but he didn’t really—at least, not in the ordinary sense. The tuxedo was simply a prop, a costume, something donned for the wedding—it couldn’t hide his raw strength, his masculine virility, and the way it pulsed from him with an almost magnetic strength.
‘Weddings aren’t my scene either,’ he commented with a twist of his mouth, so her eyes dropped lower without her consent, tracing the outline of his lips until her tummy flipped and flopped and she had to wrench her eyes away or she was honestly terrified she might do something completely crazy and kiss him.
Her breath felt hot, trapped in her lungs, and her eyes seemed to dance with stars. She sought refuge in the crowd, scanning the room looking for something, anything, to anchor her to reality, only to clash with her mother’s gaze, and the disapproval on her beautiful face as she scrutinised Sienna’s appearance for the hundredth time that hour.
Out of the frying pan, into the fire...
‘Do you speak English?’ He attempted once more, and now, despite the coil that was tightening in the pit of her stomach, she found a small smile, flashing it at him with no idea of how it transformed her face, making her eyes sparkle and pressing a deep dimple into either cheek. Despite many attempts over the years, Sienna had never learned to hide her cheeky, impish nature from her features, and it beamed out of her now.
‘I do.’ She didn’t add that she also spoke several other languages—just managing two words had been an impressive feat.
‘Then you’re being diplomatic regarding the wedding?’
‘Perhaps generally, but not on this occasion. My sister’s the bride.’ She gestured towards Olivia, who was being held by her husband, dancing softly, slowly, in the middle of the room. ‘I’m very happy for her.’
‘I can tell.’
Sienna’s eyes widened in surprise and then she laughed, a soft, musical sound that had Alejandro standing imperceptibly taller, his eyes narrowing as they raked her face, then briefly dipped to the hint of cleavage exposed by the maid of honour dress.
His inspection was fleeting, but impossible to miss, and heat, a heat she’d never before known, flooded Sienna’s body so she had to swallow in an attempt to douse it. But it felt so good! Even as she wrestled for control, she wanted to relish this sensation, to glory in the way her body was stirring in response to his—a total stranger. It felt naughty and nice, all at once.
‘Are you always so honest?’
‘Yes.’
Her mother would say it wasn’t polite to pry, but Sienna was famously bad at following her mother’s advice, and found herself asking, ‘Why?’
‘What is the alternative? To lie?’
‘No. To be socially appropriate?’
‘Appropriateness is overrated,’ he said with a lift of his broad shoulders, so she was torn between a bubble of laughter and a moan of attraction. Thank God, her body settled on the former.
‘How do you know the happy couple?’ she asked, a hint of worry briefly creasing her eyes as she looked at Olivia and Luca once more.
‘Luca is my oldest friend.’
‘How come you weren’t his best man, then?’
‘Now who’s being direct?’
‘Is it a secret?’
‘Not at all.’
‘So?’
‘Weddings aren’t my thing either. It would have been hypocritical for me to stand up there beside him today.’
‘Even for thirty minutes?’
