Forgiven but not Forgotten?. ABBY GREEN
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‘Oh, no, you don’t.’
Siena protested, ‘But I wasn’t—’
‘No?’ Andreas’s mouth was hard.
He didn’t believe her. Siena had never hit anyone in her life, and she felt sick at the thought that he could believe her capable of such violence.
‘I wouldn’t have hit you…’ she whispered, willing him to believe her, staring directly into fathomless deep blue eyes.
Andreas’s expression was stern. ‘And you won’t ever get the chance.’ The threat in his voice was a very sensual one.
He kept her close with one arm secure around her waist and let her wrist go to bring his other hand up to cup her jaw with surprising gentleness, considering what he’d believed her about to do. And then, before she could make another move, Andreas angled his head down and his mouth closed over hers.
Shock rendered Siena helpless against the sensual attack Andreas administered. His mouth moved over hers with a confidence that was heady, eliciting an immediate response from Siena that she wasn’t even aware of giving.
He was the only man who’d kissed her like this and she’d gone up in flames the first time. Nothing had changed. Heat pooled in her lower belly and spread slowly outwards, incinerating everything in its path. Her breasts tightened and felt heavy, achy. His arms around her were like a steel cage, but it was one she was pathetically loath to escape.
Siena was drowning in the scent of musky male, dimly aware of Andreas’s hand moving down her jaw, caressing, and his fingers undoing the tie at the throat of her shirt, opening the top buttons.
His tongue teased her lips, making her strain to get closer, to allow him access so that he could stroke his tongue along hers. This was the headiest of illicit pleasures…
Unbeknownst to Siena, her hands had unfurled from the fists they’d been against Andreas’s chest and were now spread out wide. She was up on tiptoe, as if to get closer to him. Andreas’s hand cupped the back of her head, fingers tangled in long, silky blonde strands of hair. His other hand gripped her hip, kneading the flesh, making Siena move against him.
It was only when she felt air touch the exposed flesh of her neck and throat that Siena came to her senses and pulled back. She looked up, completely dazed, into dark blue eyes. Heavy-lidded and explicitly sexual.
Slowly realisation came over her like a chill wind, making all that heady sensuality wither away. One touch and she’d become a slave to her senses. Unable to rationalise anything.
Siena used her hands to push back violently, almost falling over in the process.
A million and one things were clamouring in her head, but worst of all was that she’d spectacularly—in neon lights and with fireworks—humiliated herself. She winced when she recalled her haughty tones—‘I don’t want you.’ And what had she just been doing? Proving herself a liar again.
She grasped at her open shirt and couldn’t look Andreas in the eye. ‘I’d like you to leave now.’ Her voice sounded rusty and raw to her ears.
CHAPTER THREE
ANDREAS LOOKED AT Siena, holding onto her open shirt, looking almost shell-shocked, pale as the moonlight outside. His chest felt tight. This reaction was not something he’d expected. And then he realised: acting was second nature to this woman. It was in her blood—that made his blood boil. To have been duped again, even for a nanosecond…
His voice was harsh. ‘There’s no one here to cry wolf to now, Siena. You have to take responsibility for your actions.’
He started forward and suddenly her head came up. Her blue eyes were once again sparkling like jewels, her chin determined. Andreas stopped, his body still throbbing with heat. But he forced it back. Something hardened inside him. To think that for a second that he’d seen some kind of vulnerability…? Ludicrous.
He forced himself to be civilised when he felt anything but. ‘You still want me, Siena, and you can deny it all you want but it’s a lie. I am not leaving here without you tonight. You’ll pay for what you did: in my bed.’
Siena opened her mouth and shut it again, shock pouring into her body. He sounded so utterly determined. As if he was prepared to carry her bodily from this place. Siena’s mind skittered away from that all too disturbing scenario to think of his other assertion. How could she deny she wanted him after that little display of complete lack of control? His words terrified her, though—his easy assumption that she would just go with him. Just as her father had always expected her to do his bidding.
She’d tasted personal freedom for the first time since their father had disappeared and it terrified her to think of someone dictating her every move again.
Siena dropped her hand from her open top buttons and lifted her chin. ‘You seriously think that I’ll just walk out of here with you? How unbelievably arrogant are you?’
Andreas’s eyes darkened ominously. ‘I paid a high price for your petulant need to save face with your father that night, Siena. I was sacked and blacklisted from every hotel in Europe overnight, and I had the very unsavoury rumour of my having forced myself on a woman dogging my heels. My fledgling career was ruined. I had to go to America to start again.’
Siena couldn’t bear to feel that shame again and she lashed out. ‘So—what? I pay you now by becoming your mistress?’
Andreas smiled and it was feral. ‘That and more, Siena DePiero. You pay me by admitting to yourself and me just how much you want me.’
She looked at this man in the soft light of her grotty flat. He was standing like a maurauding pirate, legs firmly planted wide apart. Chest broad and powerful. Strip away the civilised veneer of the tuxedo and this man was a pure urban animal of the most potent kind.
He’s been looking for you for six months. He’s not just going to walk away… The realisation sent tendrils of panic mixed with something much more humiliatingly exciting through Siena’s blood. The confines of the tiny flat seemed to draw in around them even more.
She emitted a curt laugh to hide her trepidation. ‘So—what? You’d lock me into your penthouse apartment and take me out like a toy of some kind for your pleasure only?’ She’d been aiming to sound scathing but her voice betrayed her, sounding almost as if she was considering this.
Andreas’s eyes gleamed in the dim light and he smiled. ‘I can’t deny that that image does have its appeal, but, no, I’d have no problem being seen with you in public. I don’t have an issue with public opinion—unlike some people.’
Andreas was looking at her coolly, clearly waiting for her to say something.
‘And what then?’ she asked,