Forgiven but Not Forgotten? (8 page)

Gritting her teeth and repeating her mantra—
one week, one week
—Siena folded her jeans and T-shirt into her small suitcase, with no intention of following his autocratic command to throw them away, and slipped on the dress. It was simple in the way that only the best designer dresses could be, and beautifully made. Gathered under her bust in an Empire line, it flowed in soft silken and chiffon folds to the floor.

The bodice part of it clung to her breasts, making them seem fuller, and was cut in such a way as to enhance her cleavage. Siena had felt naked. Her father would never have allowed her to wear something so revealing...so sensual.

She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and returned to the salon barefoot. When the two jewellers had stood up on her return Siena had barely noticed, only aware of the dark blue, heavy-lidded gaze that had travelled down her body with a look so incendiary she’d almost stumbled.

Andreas had taken her hand and pulled her in beside him on a small two-seater couch, his muscular thigh far too close to hers through the flimsy covering of her dress. His arm had moved around her, his fingers grazing the bare skin of her shoulder, drawing small circles, making her breath quicken and awareness pierce her deep inside.

She’d cursed him and tried to move away—only to have him clamp his hand to her waist, pulling her even more firmly against him, so that her breasts had been crushed to his side and she’d been acutely aware of how hard his chest felt. The way his big hand curled possessively around her, fingers grazing her belly.

The jewellery itself had been a blur of glittering golds and diamonds, pearls, sapphires and emeralds. Andreas had picked things out and taken Siena’s wrist to slip jewelled bracelets on, before adding them to a growing pile. When he’d put necklaces around her neck his hands had trailed softly across her bare shoulders, his fingers lightly touching her collarbone. Siena’s face had flamed. It had felt like such an intimate touch.

She had tried to hold herself as rigidly as possible, aghast at how much it was affecting her to be subjected to what were relatively chaste touches. They’d been under the beady eyes of the jewellers, but Siena had had to remind herself they were being observed.

Losing count of the mounting pile of jewellery, Siena had been ready to scream by the time Andreas had tried a simple platinum and diamond necklace and matching bracelet on her and said, ‘Wear this dress and these jewels tonight.’

She had bitten back a retort—a knee-jerk reaction to being dictated to. Her new-found sense of independence had surged forth, but then she’d reminded herself that he’d bought her. Therefore he could have her any which way he wanted. She’d had a very disturbing image of herself, naked, splayed across Andreas’s bed, dressed in nothing but all these jewels.

When Andreas had finally declared himself satisfied the other men had started to gather up the remaining jewellery. But Siena had spotted something out of the corner of her eye. A flash of something delicate and golden. Before she could stop herself she’d reached out to touch the necklace, hidden in folds of velvet.

As she’d lifted it out it had become clear that it didn’t have the same glittering
wow
factor of the other gems, but it was exquisite: a simple golden chain with a wrought-gold birdcage detail. The tiny filigree door was open and further up the chain was a bird flying, suspended. Siena’s belly had clenched. Something about the bird flying out of its cage had resonated deeply within her.

The senior jeweller had cleared his throat uneasily. ‘That’s actually not meant to be part of the display we brought today. It was included by accident. It’s by a Greek jeweler...’

‘Angel Parnassus.’ Siena had said, half absently. She knew the famous delicately crafted designs of the renowned jeweler and had always admired them.

‘Yes...’ the man had confirmed.

‘We’ll take that too,’ Siena had heard Andreas say brusquely.

She’d started to protest, hating that Andreas had witnessed her momentary distraction and vulnerability. She’d looked at him and his eyes had been hard.

‘It’s a fraction of the price of the earrings you’ll wear tonight. Have it if you like it so much, Siena.’

Siena hadn’t wanted anything for
herself,
but she’d had no chance to speak. Andreas had already been standing up, shaking hands with the two men, seeing them out, leaving her with the necklace clutched in her hand.

Siena heard a noise now and tensed, her attention brought back to the present. Andreas had arrived a short while before, knocking on her door to check that she was nearly ready. When she’d swallowed the frog in her throat and assured him that she was, he’d disappeared—presumably to get ready himself. Siena was waiting in the drawing room, feeling ridiculously nervous at the thought of the evening ahead. This was a situation she’d never experienced before.

She was wearing the black dress, as decreed by Andreas. But when it had come to the jewels Siena had had a moment of rebellion. Instead of the diamond necklace and bracelet he’d wanted her to wear she’d picked out a bold diamond and sapphire necklace, with a matching cuff bracelet.

Somehow the brashness of the necklace felt like some kind of armour. But then Siena heard a familiar footfall behind her and any illusion of armour went out of the window.

* * *

When Siena turned to face Andreas he felt as if someone had just punched him in the belly. For a second he couldn’t breathe. He’d dreamed of her so often like this...as he remembered her... Stunningly beautiful, elegantly aloof. Untouchable in a way that made him ache to touch her.

Her hair was drawn back and up into a high bun, effortlessly simple and yet the epitome of classic grace. Her make-up was understated, perfect. Nothing so brash as red lipstick. She didn’t need it. The drama came from her cool blonde perfection.

His eyes narrowed on her necklace and a spurt of something hot went through him. ‘You have defied me.’

Siena’s chin hitched up minutely. ‘You may have all but bought me for a week, but that does not mean I can’t exercise some free will.’

Andreas inclined his head and tamped down on the hotness inside him. ‘Indeed. That necklace is equally...beautiful.’

He had to admit that it set off her rather understated appearance with just the right amount of
élan.
The thick collar piece was studded with tiny diamonds and it curled around her neck and throat in a sinuous line down to where an enormous sapphire pendant hung against the creamy pale skin of her upper chest. The dark blue of the precious stone inevitably made the lighter blue of her eyes pop out.

Andreas pushed down the niggling vague doubts he’d had all day, ever since he’d overheard the conversation between her and Mrs Bright in the kitchen, when he’d learned that Siena had preferred to appear like a spoilt brat rather than reveal she didn’t know where the oven was.

And then her reaction to the jewellery hadn’t been the unmitigated greed and glee he’d expected to see. Siena had barely looked at the impressive array of jewellery, and the one thing that had caught her eye had been a simple gold pendant. Exquisite, yes, but not in the same league as the other jewels at all.

Andreas put such disturbing thoughts out of his head now. She hadn’t shown much interest in the jewellery because she would be converting it all into cold hard cash within days. How could he forget that?

More importantly, by tonight all that cool, untouchable beauty would have come undone. She would be bucking against him and begging for release. She would no longer look so pristine. She would be as naked and sated as he intended to be. Flushed and marked by his passion.

His blood surged. He put out his hand. ‘Come. It’s time to go.’

* * *

A couple of hours later, after a sumptuous sit-down dinner, Siena was standing at Andreas’s side and it felt as if her skin was slowly going on fire. Since he’d taken her hand in his in the apartment to lead her out he hadn’t stopped touching her. Even if it was just a hand at the small of her back to guide her into the ultra-luxe Grand Wolfe Hotel, where the charity dinner banquet was taking place.

For someone who generally shied away from physical contact, because she’d never really experienced it growing up, Siena was dismayed at how much her body seemed to gravitate towards Andreas’s touch. She wished pettily that she could break out in a rash, allergic to his touch.

‘Drink?’

She looked at Andreas to see him holding out a glass of champagne. Siena shook her head. After a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, and an aperitif of Prosecco when they’d arrived, her head was feeling woozy enough. Andreas merely shrugged and put the glass back on a passing waiter’s tray.

‘Uncomfortable?’

Siena looked at Andreas again. For a second she thought he meant in her dress or shoes, but then she saw the gleam in his eye and thought to herself,
Bastard
. She schooled her expression. ‘I’m perfectly comfortable, thank you, considering the level of public interest in seeing who your new mistress is, and the realisation that she is one of the disgraced DePieros.’

Siena knew Andreas had to be aware of the way people had been looking and pointing all evening. The way a hush would fall when she came close, only to spark a flurry of whispers as they passed.

‘Don’t tell me it’s actually
affecting
you? The debutante who so coldly excised a momentary mistake from her life?’

Andreas’s voice was mocking and Siena held herself stiffly. She hadn’t known just how much it would affect her to be in public again, exposed to people’s excoriating judgement, but could she blame them? Even now as she caught someone’s eye they looked away hurriedly.

Her voice was cool. ‘Why would I deny you your moment of public retribution? No doubt this is highly entertaining for you.’

She turned and looked up into his face properly, making his hand which had been resting on the small of her back fall away. It was a tiny pathetic triumph.

‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘you should consider taking me to Rome to get the full effect of people’s censure? After all, here in London I’m relatively unknown.’

Andreas’s eyes flashed and he effortlessly put his arm around her and pulled her tight in against him, making Siena gasp softly. His body was so lean and hard. Like a wall of muscled steel. And against her belly she could feel the potent stirring of his body. Inside she went hot.

‘I think it’s time we danced.’

Before she could even remember what they’d been talking about Andreas was pulling Siena in his wake onto the dance floor, where other couples were already dancing in the seductively dim light. A very smooth jazz band were playing, but Siena hardly even registered the music as Andreas swung her round and into his arms, holding her close.

Siena tried to pull back in his embrace but it was impossible. His arm was a steel band high across her back and her hand was held high in his, against his chest. Dark blue eyes glittered down into hers and reminded her of the deep blue of the sapphire pendant that swung against her chest, the thought leaving a tart taste in her mouth. But even that couldn’t impinge when she was this close to Andreas, breathing his evocative masculine scent deep.

Feeling his body harden even more against hers was rendering her completely defenceless. How could she remain immune to this level of sensual attack? This was his punishment, his revenge, right here on this dance floor. Making her mute with aching need and a burning desire which seemed to writhe within her like a coiled snake. Everything else fell away, and she was suddenly terrified that she wouldn’t be able to contain this feeling. It was as if they were enclosed in a bubble, completely separate from everyone around them, even though Siena was dimly aware that Andreas was steering them expertly around the floor.

She’d danced with plenty of men since that debutante ball in Paris, usually propelled into their arms reluctantly by her father, but no dance had ever felt this raw or carnal. Andreas’s hand on her back rested against bare skin and she could feel his fingers stroking rhythmically, making her legs weaken and the secret apex between them grow hot and wet.

This went far beyond what she’d felt that evening in Paris, when this same man had aroused her with just a look and a sexy smile. She’d been too young then to truly be able to handle everything he’d aroused within her. Now she knew he’d unleashed a completely alien part of her—a part of her that felt wild and needy, aching for something she’d never known before. She’d always found it so easy to be detached, contained, until she’d met him. And all that was rushing back now.

At that moment Andreas stopped, and Siena realised that the music had also stopped. The air crackled between them and Siena knew with a fatalistic feeling in her belly that this was it.

Eyes locked with hers, Andreas said huskily, ‘It’s time to go.’

Keeping her hand in his, Andreas swiftly negotiated their way off the dance floor. Siena felt as if she couldn’t really breathe. Her skin prickled and felt hot. Her belly was tight. Somehow, magically, someone appeared to hand Siena her wrap, and she took it with both hands, pathetically grateful that Andreas wasn’t touching her for just a second.

But then her hand was in his again and he was leading her out into the cool spring air. His car was already waiting by the kerb, its back door held open by a hotel doorman.

Once they were in the car it pulled away smoothly from the glittering hotel.

Andreas said curtly to his driver, ‘Tom, some privacy, please.’

Instantly Siena saw the silent glide of the black partition cutting them off from the driver. She looked at Andreas and his eyes glowed in the dim light. He looked feral, wild, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

‘Come here,’ he instructed throatily.

CHAPTER SIX

P
ANIC
GRIPPED
S
IENA
. She wasn’t ready for this. Threadily she answered, ‘No.’

Andreas arched a brow. His voice was deceptively mild. ‘No?’

Siena shook her head, and then words were tumbling out. ‘Look, you can’t just expect that I’m going to—’

But her words were stopped mid-flow when Andreas reached across almost lazily and took her by the waist. He slid her along the seat until their thighs were touching. His hands felt huge around her and her eyes were locked with his. The air around them felt heavy and dense, thick with something Siena didn’t really understand.

But when Andreas raised his hands up her body, brushing against the curves of her breasts, and slanted his mouth across hers Siena understood what it was. It was desire, and suddenly she was alive with it. Humming all over. It thickened her blood, forcing it through veins and arteries, pooling low in her pelvis, between her legs.

Her hands had been up, almost in a gesture of self-defence, but now Siena found herself putting them on Andreas’s chest, to balance herself when he tugged her forward so that she half lay across him. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think beyond the hot slide of his mouth against hers, and her mouth opened of its own volition under his.

Their tongues touched and Siena’s hands curled into his shirt, bunching it unconsciously, seeking something to hold onto when she felt as if she were falling down and down.

One of Andreas’s hands went down to her back and pulled her into him, making her arch against him. She was dimly aware that his other hand had moved up, was undoing her hair so that it fell around her shoulders, sensitising nerve-ends that were already tingling.

The kiss grew hotter. Andreas’s tongue stabbed deep. His hand was tangled in her hair now, and he pulled back gently so that he could claim even more access. Siena couldn’t hear anything through the blood roaring in her head and ears. When Andreas’s mouth left hers she heard a low moan and only seconds later realized it was coming from her.

By then his mouth was trailing hot kisses across her jaw and he was pulling her head back even more, to press his mouth against her throat and down to where she could feel her pulse beat against his tongue.

Siena had the barest sensation of her dress feeling looser before she realised that Andreas had pulled the zip down at the back. He lifted his head and leant back for a moment. Siena tried to force some air into her lungs, but they seized again when she felt him pull down the bodice of her dress to reveal one naked breast.

They were in a cocoon. Siena wasn’t even aware of the city streets and lights as they glided through London. They could have been transported to another planet. She was only aware of herself as some very primal feminine being, and of Andreas as her masculine counterpart.

She saw Andreas’s head dip down, felt his hot breath feather over an almost painfully tight nipple before his mouth closed around it. Siena sank back against the seat, every bone in her body melting at the exquisite tugging sensation that seemed to connect directly to where a pulse throbbed between her legs.

As if reading her mind, Andreas moved his hand under her dress and up her legs, pushing them apart. She was helpless to resist as he expertly pulled down the bodice of her dress completely and bared her other breast, to which he administered the same torture.

Everything was coalescing within Siena, building to some elusive crescendo of tension. Her hips were rolling and one of her hands was in Andreas’s hair, fingers tangling in silken strands as she held him to her breast. Her other hand was clenched tight, and an ache of gigantic proportions was growing between her thighs.

Andreas’s long fingers had found her panties and he was tugging them down over her hips. Siena was mindless, wanting Andreas to alleviate this exquisite tension inside her. Her hips lifted and he slid the black lace down her legs, over her feet in their vertiginous heels and off completely.

And then Andreas’s mouth left her breast and he straightened up. It took a second for Siena to register that he was just looking at her. Her breasts were bared and throbbing slightly, wet from his mouth and heaving with her laboured breath. Her dress was hiked up almost to her waist and her legs were parted. She saw her flimsy lace panties dangle from his fingers, and then he put them in the pocket of his jacket.

Siena’s tongue felt thick. ‘What are you doing?’

It was only then that she realised how pristine Andreas looked in his jacket and tie, barely a hair out of place. Far too belatedly she scrabbled with numb hands to pull her dress up over her breasts and down over her thighs.

‘I’m making sure there’s no delay once we get inside.’

Inside.
It was only then that Siena became aware that they were outside his apartment building and the young valet was approaching the door of the car. Siena felt Andreas push her forward slightly, the brush of his fingers against her back as he pulled her zip up. Then he was handing her her wrap and the door was opened.

By the time she was out in the cool air she was incandescent with rage—not only at Andreas, but at herself for being so weak. When Andreas touched her back to guide her into the building she jerked away from him. She all but ran to the door and yanked it open before he could open it for her, making straight for the lift, punching the button with unnecessary force. Andreas was a tall dark presence beside her which she ignored.

When they stepped into the lift Siena moved to one corner and resolutely looked forward. To her absolute horror she could feel heat prickling at the backs of her eyes and her throat tightening. She willed down the emotion which had sprung up with every fibre of her being and swept out of the lift when the doors opened.

When Andreas joined her and opened the apartment door he had barely shut it behind him when she rounded on him, hands curled into fists.

‘How
dare
you?’

Andreas looked so cool and composed and Siena was completely undone. Her hair was around her shoulders and she’d never felt more vulnerable.

‘How dare I what, Siena? Kiss you?’ His mouth twisted. ‘How could I
not
have kissed you? Don’t you know by now that I have a fatal attraction to your unique brand of remote aloofness?’

Siena could have laughed out loud. She’d never felt less remote or aloof. Right then she hated Andreas with a passion that scared her with its intensity.

She couldn’t stop the words tumbling out. ‘I hate you.’

‘Be careful, Siena,’ he mocked, ‘Love is just the other side of hate, and we wouldn’t want you falling for me, now, would we?’

Siena spluttered. ‘
Fall
for you? I couldn’t think of anything less likely to happen.’ Her words fell into a hole inside her and echoed painfully.

Siena lifted her chin, determined to get off that disturbing topic and claw back some control. ‘I am not going to be ritually humilated by you, whenever and wherever it takes your fancy.’

Andreas prowled closer and drew Siena’s lace panties from his pocket, holding them up. Siena died a small death.

‘It takes two to tango, Siena, and you were with me every second of the way back there. To be honest I hadn’t expected you to be a back seat of the car kind of woman.’

Siena lifted her hand to grab her underwear but Andreas snatched them back out of her reach and then deposited the lacy scrap of material back into his pocket. Without realising he’d even moved, Siena found herself with her back against the main door of the apartment, her wrist held high in Andreas’s hand, above her head. He was pressing against her and she could feel herself responding to that tall muscular length all over again. The heated insanity of what had happened came back in lurid Technicolor.

‘Let me go,’ Siena gritted out, desperately afraid of how susceptible she was.

He shook his head and his eyes glowed like dark jewels. ‘Never. You’re mine now, Siena, until I say so.’

And then he bent his head and his mouth found hers, and when she tried to turn her head away he only brought his free hand to her head and held her there, captive, as he kissed and stroked her weak resistance away with his clever tongue.

Siena was so full of turbulent emotions and sensations that it was almost a relief to give in to the sheer physicality of the moment. Here, with Andreas kissing her like this, she couldn’t think. And she didn’t want to.

When he finally released her hand she found herself, not pushing him away but clutching his shoulders, before finding that her hand was sneaking underneath his jacket, to push it off.

Their mouths were fused together, tongues a tangle of heated lust, and when Andreas removed his hands so that he could shrug off his jacket Siena sought and found his bow-tie, undoing it so that she could open the top button of his shirt.

In some very dim place she told herself that she had a desire to see him as undone as she felt, but in truth she just had a growing need to see him naked.

Siena felt her zip being pulled down again, and it was almost a relief to have her breasts freed. Andreas’s mouth and tongue was a potent memory. She wanted to feel him again. Her hands took his head, guiding him away from her mouth and down...

Only minutes after she’d stood in front of him, vowing she hated him, Andreas’s mouth was on her breast and Siena was once again reduced to some writhing wanton. But her mind skittered weakly away from that anomaly.

Siena felt feverish. Her legs were weak. But she couldn’t move. Andreas had straightened and was opening his shirt, ripping it off, and Siena’s eyes grew huge and round as she took in his olive-skinned magnificence. Not an ounce of fat. All lean muscle. Flat brown nipples enticed her to lean forward and touch with her tongue, exploring his salty taste.

Andreas groaned softly and slid his hand into her hair. After a minute of her mouth torturing him with some pseudo-innocent touch she must have learned somewhere Andreas dragged her head back. Her mouth was open, she was panting slightly, and her eyes were wide and slumberous, pupils dilated. His erection thickened and with an impatient hand he undid his belt and zip, pulling down his trousers and his briefs with them. He had to have Siena
now.
He couldn’t even move from this spot. He was aware that he was about to take her exactly as he’d fantasised five years ago, standing up, like some kind of feral animal. But he didn’t care.

All he could see was that white-blonde hair tumbled over bare shoulders, her full round breasts, flushed and moist from his touch and his mouth. All he could think about was how her nipples had felt against his tongue—tight and puckered—the way she’d moaned when he touched her there.

Feeling ruthless, Andreas kicked away his clothes. He was naked now, and Siena’s eyes grew bigger as she looked down his body, making him throb with a need to be inside her, thrusting up into the tight core of her body, seeking his release. Finally.

Cursing softly, having a flash of clarity at the last moment, Andreas reached down and pulled protection from his jacket, fumbling in a way he hadn’t in a long time as he ripped it open and stroked the rubber along his length.

The scent of Siena’s arousal hit him like a ton of bricks and, unable to stop himself, he fell to his knees before her, pulling her dress down all the way until it pooled at her feet in a tangle of chiffon and lace. Now she wore only her shoes, and Andreas removed them, hearing her husky, hesitant-sounding entreaty.

‘Andreas...’

He ignored it.

His need was too strong to resist.

She was more than he could have ever imagined in his fantasies. Long slender limbs, pale all over. A triangle of blonde curls between her legs. Andreas knelt there and parted her thighs. He could feel her resistance but said gutturally, ‘Let me taste you.’

After a second when her legs trembled so lightly he might have imagined it her resistance faltered and Andreas bared her to him, his mouth and tongue seeking and finding her essence, revelling in her sweetly musky smell and taste.

Her hand was in his hair, gripping tightly enough to be painful, but it only fired him up even more. He could feel his erection strain against its rubber confinement between his legs and knew he couldn’t wait. There would be more time to savour her later. But now he had to have her. He had to be buried so deep inside her that he would forget his own name.

Andreas surged up and just managed to catch Siena before she collapsed. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her back arch into him, her breasts crushed against his chest.

‘Wrap your legs around my waist,’ he instructed roughly.

Siena put her arms around his neck, and then her legs were wrapped around his waist. Andreas hitched her up and rested her back against the door, so that it would take some of her weight, even though she felt as light as a feather.

Holding her with one arm, he reached down between them and ran his finger along her cleft.
She was so wet.
It nearly undid him there and then. He spread his legs and positioned himself, taking himself in his hand and guiding the head of his erection to those moist folds of flesh.

Andreas forced himself to curb the desire to thrust so far and so deep he’d find instant release. He was more than that. He wouldn’t let her do this to him. He found her mouth and braced himself, before thrusting up and into the giving wet clasp of her body.

He felt her open-mouthed gasp of surprise before he registered that he’d felt an impediment to his movement. Sweat broke out on his brow. He drew away and looked at Siena, every nerve and muscle protesting at this interruption.

‘What...?’

Siena was pale, and the unmistakable light of shock shone in her eyes. Stripped bare of that hazy pleasure he’d seen a moment ago. He flexed his buttocks and saw her wince as he moved a bit deeper. Her arms tightened around his neck. Andreas felt something cold prickle at his neck. It couldn’t be possible... The information simply wouldn’t compute...

He spoke out loud. ‘You can’t be...’