have stepped back, reassessed, postponed the meeting.
Gotten a grip before he wrecked any chance that she might want him again.
Unfortunately, Sienna doing battle with him across the polished width of her father’s desk had put a kink in his strategy. Her cheeks had been flushed, her eyes fiery, shunting him back in time to hot, sultry nights and tangled sheets. It was hard to think tactically when all he wanted to do was kiss her.
She had never been this animated or passionate with him before, he realized. Even in bed he had always been grimly aware that she was holding back, that there was a part of her he couldn’t reach.
That she was more committed to Ambrosi Pearls than she had ever been to him.
To compound the problem, he had mentioned the bad old days when the Atraeus family had been dirt-poor. Given that he wanted Sienna back in his bed, the last thing he needed was for her to view him as the grandson of the gardener.
Jaw tight, he turned to stare out at the sea view as he spoke to his personal assistant. Tomas had been trying to reach him for the past hour. Constantine had been aware he had missed calls, something he seldom did, but for once, business hadn’t been first priority.
Another uncharacteristic lapse.
Constantine hung up and broodingly surveyed Sienna as she gathered the pages she had knocked onto the floor and stacked them in a precise pile on the desktop. Even with her dress crumpled and her makeup gone, she looked elegant and classy, the quintessential lady.
A car door slammed somewhere in the distance. The staccato of high heels on the walkway was followed by the sound of the front door opening.
Constantine caught the flare of desperation in Sienna’s gaze. Witnessing that moment of sheer panic was like a kick in the chest. He was here to right a wrong that had been done to his father, but Sienna was also trying to protect her family, most specifically her mother, from him. It was a sobering moment. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “I won’t tell her.”
Sienna stifled a surge of relief and just had time to send Constantine a grateful glance before Margaret Ambrosi stepped into the room, closely followed by Carla.
“What’s going on?” her mother demanded in the cool, clear tone that had gotten her through thirty years with a husband who had given her more heartache than joy. “And don’t try to fob me off, because I know something’s wrong.”
“Mrs. Ambrosi.” Constantine used a tone that was far gentler than any Sienna could ever remember him using with her. “My condolences. Sienna and I were just discussing the details of a business deal your husband initiated a few months ago.”
Carla’s jaw was set. “I don’t believe Dad would have transacted anything without—”
Margaret Ambrosi’s hand stayed her. “So that’s why Roberto made the trip to Europe. I should have known.”
Carla frowned. “He went to Paris and Frankfurt. He didn’t go near the Mediterranean.”
An emotion close to anger momentarily replaced the exhaustion etched on her mother’s face.
“Roberto left a day earlier because he wanted to stop off at Medinos first. He said he wanted to visit the site of the old pearl facility and find his grandparents’ graves. If anything should have warned me he was up to something that should have been it. Roberto didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. He went to Medinos on business.”
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