grandfather.’
Sienna raised her chin at him. ‘At least I loved him.’
His lip curled. ‘You loved his money, you trashy little gold-digger,’ he said. ‘Did he make you earn every penny by opening your legs on command?’
She gave him her wild-child smile, the one the press had documented time and time again—the one that painted her as a sleep-around-slut on the make. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ she asked.
He flung himself away from the table, thrusting his hands deep in his trouser pockets as if he didn’t trust himself not to shake her till her teeth rattled.
Sienna found it exhilarating to know she had yanked his chain. He was always so cool and in control, but there was a side to him only she brought out. It was his primitive side, the raw male side that wanted to dominate and subdue her. The thought of him making her submit to him made her skin lift in a shiver.
She would fight him tooth and nail.
Andreas took some steadying breaths. She was doing it deliberately, of course. Trying her best to get under his skin, to prove nothing had changed in spite of the passage of time. How could one woman have such an effect on him?
He was not a slave to lust.
He had abhorred that in his father, how he had betrayed his wife of more than thirty years to bed a common tart.
Andreas prided himself on his self-control. He had the normal urges of any full-blooded male, but he always chose his partners with discretion. The women he slept with had class and poise. They were not headstrong harpies. They did not stir in him such unbridled passion.
He never lost his head.
But something about Sienna inflamed him and he had no control over it. He wanted to drive himself in her as hard and deeply as he could. He wanted to rut her like a wild animal did a random mate. He wanted to tame her, to have her submit to him in every way possible. His body ached and burned for her feverishly.
She was the forbidden fruit he had always prided himself he could resist.
That was no doubt why his father had set things up the way he had. He had known the temptation Sienna had always been for him. His father could not have thought of a worse punishment than tying her to him, dangling her under his nose, day in and day out. What had he been thinking? Had his father really hated him that much?
Andreas turned back to face Sienna. She was sitting down again, her jeans-clad legs propped up on the desk, her arms folded across her chest, which pushed her beautiful breasts upwards, looking every bit the impudent schoolgirl called into the headmaster’s office. She had a lamentable disrespect for authority. She was wilful and defiant. She didn’t know the meaning of the word respect. She could be surly and then sunny in the blink of an eye. She could be a sultry siren one second and an innocent waif the next.
He didn’t have a clue how he was going to manage this farcical arrangement, but manage it he would, even if it meant sleeping with her to get her out of his system once and for all.
Every drop of his blood sizzled at the thought.
‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t found a place yet,’ she said. ‘I only just flew in.’
‘Where are your things?’
‘I didn’t bring anything with me,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d leave the wardrobe arrangements up to you. I figured the stuff I normally wear won’t suit.’
He stared at her incredulously. ‘You came here with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing?’
She gave him a feisty look. ‘If I’m going to act the part, I need to dress for it. But you can pay for it, not me.’
‘I have no problem with footing the bill,’ Andreas said. ‘It just seems a little unconventional, if not impetuous, for a young woman of your age to fly about the globe with nothing but jeans and a T-shirt and a handbag. Most of the women I know carry enough make-up and toiletries to sink a ship.’
‘I’m very low maintenance,’ she said.
‘I very much doubt it,’ he muttered.
She lowered her slim legs to the floor with a movement that was both coltish and graceful. ‘I’ll need a place to stay until we make things official,’ she said. ‘A five-star hotel will do nicely.’
‘You can stay at my villa.’ He scribbled the address on a sheet of paper and pushed it across the desk to her. ‘I want you right under my nose where I can keep an eye on you.’
‘You think I’ll spill my guts to the press like your ex-fiancée did?’ she asked with an insolent smile as she popped the folded paper inside her bra.
‘Technically, she wasn’t my fiancée,’ he said, tearing his gaze away from the tempting sight of her pert breasts. ‘I hadn’t got that far. I had bought a ring, however. You can borrow it if you like.’
She gave him a slitted-eye glare. ‘Don’t even think about it, Rich Boy,’ she said. ‘I want my own ring, not someone else’s.’
Andreas came over to where she was standing. He could feel the force field of her as soon as he crossed that invisible line. Her summery fragrance assaulted his nostrils, a combination of flowers and feminine warmth that was as heady as any mind-altering drug. This close, he could see the tiny dusting of freckles over the bridge of her retroussé nose and the tiniest of chickenpox scars above her left eyebrow.
Almost of its own volition, his gaze flicked down to her mouth.
Lust gave him a knockout punch in the gut when he saw the way the tip of her tongue darted out to leave a glistening layer of moisture on those plump, ripe lips.
He fought his leaping pulse back under control, dragging his gaze back to her glittering one. ‘This is all a game to you, isn’t it?’ he said.
Her top lip curled at him and her grey-blue eyes glittered. ‘You were going to kiss me, weren’t you?’
Andreas ground his teeth until he thought he’d have to eat jelly for the rest of his life. ‘I want to throttle you, not kiss you,’ he said.
‘You put one finger on me and see what happens,’ she said, matching him stare for stare.
Andreas already knew what would happen. He could feel it in his body. It was thundering through his veins like a torpedo. He couldn’t think of a time when he had felt such forceful, uncontrollable desire. It was like being a hormone-driven teenager all over again. Dynamite couldn’t do more damage than Sienna in temptress mode. ‘Get out of my sight,’ he ground out savagely.
She put up her chin. ‘Say please.’
He strode over to the door, holding it open pointedly. ‘Out.’
She tossed the silver-blonde curtain of her hair back behind her shoulders. ‘If I’m going to stay at your place I’ll need a key,’ she said.
‘The housekeeper will let you in,’ Andreas said. ‘I’ll
