Forgiven but Not Forgotten?

I have a meeting in Paris tomorrow morning. We will spend tonight there and go to the opera this evening. Pack accordingly and be ready to leave at three p.m. Andreas

Siena could see that they were approaching the airfield now, and felt nervous at the thought of confronting Andreas again after he’d explored her body with such thorough intimacy and then deposited her back in her bed like an unwelcome visitor.

They swept in through wide gates and Siena could see a small Lear jet and a sleek silver sports car nearby. Andreas was taking out a small case and suit bag. Her belly swooped. He looked so tall and handsome. Intimidatingly so. Especially now that she knew the barely leashed power of the body underneath that suit.

The car stopped and Siena saw Andreas register it and straighten up. He looked intense, serious, and her nervous flutters increased. She had no experience of how to handle this situation. She smoothed her hand down her dress, feeling vulnerable now when she thought of how she’d chosen it over more casual clothes, how carefully she’d chosen a dress for the evening, along with the ubiquitous jewelry Andreas would expect her to wear. Because, after all, an inner voice reminded her, she’d demanded it.

Andreas watched Siena emerge from the back of the car and was glad he wore sunglasses which would hide the flare of lust in his eyes. She was wearing a champagne-coloured silk shirt dress, cinched in around her waist with a wide gold belt. The buttons were open, giving just enough of a hint of cleavage, and her hair was tumbled around her shoulders in golden abandon.

Her legs were long and bare, flat gold gladiator-style sandals on her feet. She looked effortlessly un-put-together in the way that only women wearing the best clothes could. The knowledge made him reel again: she was here and she was his. More irrevocably his than he’d ever imagined. But even now, much to his chagrin, he couldn’t seem to drum up that sense of triumph. It was more of a restless need. As if he’d never get enough of her. It made him very nervous.

Andreas wanted to rip open the buttons of that dress and take her right there, standing against the car. Like you took her against the door of your apartment last night? Shame washed through him as he recalled the heated insanity of that coupling. The fact of her innocence. And the fact that while he’d managed to restrain himself from making love to her again before she was ready he’d had to touch her again.

Andreas cursed. This woman had made him useless for the whole day. He’d lost his train of thought in meetings and his assistant Becky had looked at him strangely when he’d left his office. He didn’t need her to tell him that his usual cool, organised self had deserted him.

Before he could dwell on the disturbing side-effects of having Siena in his life and in his bed, Andreas strode forward and let an attendant take his things before taking Siena’s bag in his hand.

And then, because once he came close to her and her scent hit his nostrils he was unable not to, he wrapped his other hand around her neck and pulled her close, settling a hot, swift kiss to her mouth. When he felt momentary hesitation give way to melting, his body hardened.

He drew back and without saying a word took her hand and led her up into the plane.

* * *

By the time they’d landed in Paris and were driving into the city centre Siena was feeling even more on edge. Andreas had largely ignored her for the flight, apart from one brief conversation. She wondered if this was what he did: ignored his lovers once he’d taken them to bed?

She’d been completely unprepared for that swift but incendiary kiss by the plane. It had unsettled her for the entire journey, making her nerve-ends tingle. Andreas had appeared unaffected, though, concentrating on his laptop with a frown between his brows and conducting a lengthy business discussion in Spanish. Siena could understand Spanish, as it had been one of her languages at finishing school, and she’d been surprised to hear him discussing the fate of hotel workers in a small hotel he’d just acquired in Mexico.

He’d said, ‘That area is challenged enough as it is. I won’t have those people struggling to find new jobs when I’m going to need their experience when the new hotel opens. I want you to offer them retainers, or help find them alternative employment until the work on the new hotel is finished.’

He clearly hadn’t liked whatever the person on the other end of the phone had said, and had replied curtly, ‘Well, that’s why you work for me, Lucas, and not the other way around.’

Andreas had caught her looking at him as he’d terminated the conversation, and had raised a brow. She’d flushed and said, ‘I’m the first to admit that I don’t know much about business, but surely that isn’t exactly good financial sense?’

Andreas had settled back in his seat, a small smile curving that sensual mouth. ‘You agree with my field manager? And why not? You’re right. It’s not good financial sense. But the fact is that this small town in Mexico is where my benefactor and mentor came from. When I moved to New York I worked in a hotel for Ruben Carro. He liked me, saw that I had potential, and essentially groomed me to take over from him.

‘He had no family or heirs, and unbeknown to me had an inoperable brain tumour. I think he felt an affinity with me, arriving from Europe, penniless. He’d come from Mexico as an impoverished worker. Both his parents were killed trying to get across the border. When he died he left everything to me with the proviso that I continue his name and that I do something to help improve his home town. He left a substantial part of his fortune to be used to that end. Buying this hotel is just the first step. There are further plans to develop the infrastructure and employment opportunities.’

Siena had felt a little shaky hearing all of this. She’d heard of the legendary billionaire hotelier Carro. ‘That’s a very ambitious project.’

Andreas had smiled. ‘I’m a very ambitious man.’

‘That’s why your hotel chain is known as Xenakis-Carro? After him?’

An unmistakable look of pride had crossed Andreas’s face. He’d nodded. ‘I’m proud to be associated with his name. He was a good man and he offered me the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s the least I can do to continue his legacy.’

Andreas had turned away then, back to his work, and the knowledge had sat heavily in Siena’s belly. Clearly the newspaper reports about his business ethics had been wrong, and yet Andreas hadn’t cared enough to defend himself when she’d slung that slur his way.

Siena’s focus came back to the present now, as the familiar lines of the Champs-Elysées unfolded before them. Dusk was settling over the iconic city and Siena felt tense. She’d always loved Paris. Until the debutante ball. Until that evening. Since then, coming back here had been fraught with painful reminders of her own naïvety and what she’d done. And never more so than now, when she shared a car with the very man who was at the centre of those memories and emotions.

He was looking out of his window and seemed remote. Was he remembering too? Hating her even more? Siena shivered slightly. They were drawing around to the front of the huge glittering façade of a hotel, and Siena only realised where they were when they came to a smooth halt.

She looked at Andreas, who was regarding her coolly from the other side of the car. ‘Is this some kind of a sick joke? Returning to the scene of the crime?’

Andreas’s mouth tightened, and then he answered far too equably, ‘Not at all, Siena. I don’t play games like that. We’ve come here merely because it’s impractical to go to another hotel when I own this one.’

Shock hit Siena and she looked out again at the stunning façade of the world-famous Paris hotel where the debutante ball was still held every year. She was aware of Andreas getting out of his side of the car and then he was opening her door. She looked up at him and suddenly, despite her shock, her breath got stuck in her throat and she saw only him, silhouetted against the dusk. He had never looked more gorgeous, or more dark and threatening with his stern visage. Images of the previous night slammed into her. She felt hot deep down inside her, where secret muscles clenched.

He put out a hand and said imperiously, ‘Come.’