* * *
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
PANIC GRIPPED SIENA. She wasn’t ready for this. Threadily she answered, ‘No.’