our fortune. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that we became personae non grata overnight.’
Andreas’s eyes narrowed. ‘No. It would be untruthful of me not to admit that I knew your father had been soliciting prostitutes for years, and about the evidence of his involvement in drugs and political corruption. But proof that he’d been trafficking women all over Europe for sex must have been the killer blow for two penniless heiresses. No one wants to be seen to be associating with a scandal of that level.’
The shame Siena felt nearly strangled her. Her father had solicited prostitutes while married to their mother because it had excited him. He’d fathered a son with one of those women. She’d thought she’d hated her father before…but she’d hated him even more when he’d disappeared into thin air to avoid the numerous charges levelled against him. To this day no one knew where he was, and Siena never wanted to see him again.
The thought of all those poor defenceless and vulnerable women being sold into a life of torture and degradation… Even now bile rose in her throat, because it had also been proved that her father had been more than just involved in a peripheral sense. He’d been an active participant.
Andreas must have seen something in her expression and he said quietly. ‘Your father’s sins are not your sins.’
Siena was taken aback at this assertion. She looked at him, unable to read his face. ‘Perhaps not, but people don’t want to believe that.’
‘Did the press in Italy gave you a hard time?’ He answered her disbelieving look with a shrug. ‘I was travelling in South America for work when the full extent of your father’s scandal hit. By the time I got back to Europe your father had disappeared and a new scandal was unfolding. I missed most of it.’
Siena thought of the relentless days of headlines like: Heiresses no more. Who will marry the poor little rich girls now? And: Serena DePiero caught in flagrante just days after disgraced father’s disappearance! That had been the moment Siena had known she had to get herself and Serena out of Italy. Her sister had been spiralling dangerously out of control, and she’d been barely clinging onto sanity after everything they’d known had been ripped asunder.
Siena hadn’t expected any quarter from the press—she’d seen how they delighted in savaging the once lofty and untouchable of society—and thanks to her father’s extreme hubris the DePieros had had it coming. Nevertheless she voiced an understatement in a flat voice. ‘Yes, you could say they gave us a hard time.’
Andreas was surprised at the lack of emotion in Siena’s voice. The lack of reproach or injury. He could well imagine the field-day the press had had at seeing two blonde and blue-eyed princesses reduced to nothing.
Once again he had to marvel at her sheer natural beauty. She wore not a scrap of make-up but her skin glowed like a pearl. In this world of artifice and excess she really was a rare jewel. Even in the plain shirt and tie, that threadbare denim jacket, he could see the tantalising curves of her body. Fuller now that she was a woman, not a teenager.
Desire was hot and immediate, tightening his body. A fit of pique went through Andreas when he realised that he’d subconsciously avoided blonde women in the last five years, seeking out the complete opposite and telling himself that she’d burned his taste for blondes. But she hadn’t. He just hadn’t wanted any blonde except her.
Women didn’t usually reduce him to such immediate carnal reaction, no matter how desirable or beautiful. And yet she had from the very first moment he’d laid eyes on her…
Andreas looked at her now with fresh resolve filling his belly and lifted his glass. ‘To whatever the future might bring.’
Siena had a very scary suspicion that the future Andreas was envisaging had something to do with her. Very deliberately she ignored his toast and drained her glass, put it down on the nearby table. The alcohol blazed its way down her throat.
Andreas looked merely amused and chided softly, ‘A 1977 port should be savoured a little more delicately than that, but each to their own.’
He downed his too. Siena blanched. She could just imagine how much it had cost. Her father had thought of himself as an expert in fine wines so she’d learnt something by proxy.
Thinking of her father made her think of her sister, and that made her stand up jerkily, only vaguely aware of the stunning view of London on the other side of the huge windows. ‘I really do need to get home. I have an early start in the morning.’
Andreas rose too, as fluidly as a panther, rippling sinew and muscle very evident despite the severe cut of his suit. As if it barely contained him. Siena would have taken a step back, but the chair was behind her.
She sensed a spiking of electricity in the air and there was a pregnant pause just before he said innocuously, ‘Very well.’
He went to a discreet phone on the sideboard and picked it up, saying to someone, ‘I’m coming back down. Please have my car brought round. Thank you.’
He extended his arm to allow her to precede him from the room, and to Siena’s utter chagrin her overwhelming feeling wasn’t one of relief. She was a little confused. She’d expected…more. More of a fight? And yet he was happy to let her go so easily. Something bitter pierced her. Perhaps he’d just wanted to amuse himself by seeing the disgraced heiress up close and he was already bored.
So why did she feel so desolate all of a sudden?
Andreas stepped into the lift behind Siena and pressed the button. He might be giving her the illusion of letting her go, but that was not his intention in the slightest. Seeing her again had merely solidified his desire to have her in his bed. Finally. Acquiescent and his. That disdain she did so well would have no place in the relationship they would have. She was in no position to argue or resist him, and the thought of seeing her come undone was heady in the extreme.
His car was waiting by the kerb and a young security guard jumped out, giving the keys to Andreas, who held the passenger door open for Siena to get in.
Siena stood stiffly by the open door and looked at Andreas without meeting his eye. She was still trembling at the way his hand had rested lightly on the small of her back the whole way down in the elevator. And also at the speed with which he now appeared to want to get rid of her.
‘If you can point me in the direction of the nearest tube I’ll make my own way home.’
Andreas’s voice was like steel. ‘It’s almost eleven-thirty at night. There is no way you’re taking the tube alone. Get into the car, Siena, or I will put you in myself. Don’t think I won’t.’
Siena looked at him properly and saw how stern he seemed. She felt a shiver of something go through her—recognition of how huge and broad he was against the night sky. And yet she wasn’t scared of him. Not as she’d been of her father. She somehow knew instinctively that Andreas would never lash out like that. Violence towards women was born of weakness and fear. Andreas didn’t have that in him. And it surprised her to admit that she trusted this gut feeling so much.
Knowing that if she walked off now he’d just follow her again, Siena gave in and slid into the car, its luxurious confines once again surrounding her like a cocoon. Until Andreas got in beside her and the atmosphere turned from relaxing to electric.
As they pulled away from the kerb Andreas asked easily, ‘Did your sister come to London with you?’
Instantly
