Siena fought the childish urge to cross her arms and say stubbornly no. But eventually she put her hand into Andreas’s and stepped out. He kept a tight hold of it as they walked into the hotel with much bowing and scraping from the staff.
Siena was surprised to see that the hotel had undergone a very beautiful overhaul since she’d seen it last. Gone was the rather over-fussy atmosphere. It felt lighter, younger, yet still oozed elegance and timeless wealth. This, Siena guessed, must be one of the reasons Andreas had become so successful in such a dizzyingly small amount of time.
Andreas was talking briefly to someone who looked like a manager, and then he was walking forward again without even a glance back to Siena. His hand was still tight around hers. A lift set apart from the others was waiting with open doors.
They stepped in and an attendant greeted them politely before pressing the one button. Siena was beginning to feel claustrophobic in the familiar surroundings, and tried to pull her hand free of Andreas’s. He turned to look at her and only gripped hers tighter. This silent battle of wills went on behind the attendant, who was looking resolutely forwar
d, avoiding eye contact.
After what seemed like aeons the lift came to a halt and the doors opened. Andreas said merci to the attendant and then they were stepping straight into what could only be described as a shining palace of golds and creams, with acres of soft cream carpet, parquet floors with faded oriental rugs, and floor-to-ceiling French doors and windows. Outside the Place de la Concorde was spectacularly lit up like a golden beacon.
Siena forgot herself for a moment, and only came back into the room when she realised that Andreas had finally let her hand go and was striding into the main drawing room, shucking off his suit jacket and dropping it into a nearby chair.
Everything that had brought her here to this moment—the fact that she had slept with this man and so blithely given him her innocence, his cool demeanour since she’d seen him again today—all combined now to make her feel very prickly and unsure of herself.
He had his back to her, hands on his hips, and she remarked caustically, ‘So, you bought the hotel where you were once a lowly assistant manager because this is where you’ve always had the fantasy of bedding the debutante who got you sacked—is that it?’
Slowly Andreas turned around and Siena steeled herself. His hand came up to his slim silver-grey tie and long fingers undid it. He opened the top buttons of his shirt and just looked at her with a burning intensity before saying quietly, ‘You regard yourself very highly if you think I did all that just so I might one day get you into bed seven floors above where you once teased me because you were a spoilt little socialite who got bored between her main course and dessert.’
Siena flushed at his rebuke. She knew what she’d said was grossly unfair, but if Andreas came too close she might shatter completely. Once again the knowledge that he wouldn’t welcome the truth of that night washed through her with a sense of futility. Even if he did choose to believe her it would mercilessly expose her and her sister to his far too cynical judgement.
He crossed the space between them and Siena’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes were narrowed on her. Instinctively Siena took a step back, panic and something much more treacherously exciting rising from her gut.
‘Oh, no.’ Andreas shook his head and reached for her with strong hands, wrapping them around her waist. ‘We have some time before going to the opera and I know exactly how to spend it.’
Breath was a strangled bird in Siena’s throat as Andreas blocked out everything behind him and bent his head, slanting that wicked hot mouth over hers. As predictable as the inclement English weather her body fizzed and simmered. Blood rushed to every nerve-point and to all parts of her body, engorging them, making them tight and sensitive.
It felt as if he was devouring her, sucking her under to some dark wicked place where all she wanted was to feel his mouth on hers. Siena wrapped her arms around Andreas’s neck and her whole body strained to get closer to his. His tongue was rough and demanding, making Siena mewl a little when he took his mouth away to trail kisses over her jaw and down further.
Siena’s spiteful little barb about his motives for buying the hotel had lodged in Andreas’s gut, driving him to seek out physicality rather than think about it. But when he had to lift his head to draw in an unsteady breath and Siena’s eyes stared up into his he couldn’t escape…
He’d claimed otherwise, but he had to admit that once he’d known this hotel was up for grabs he’d had to have it—with a viscerality that went beyond mere business. But when he’d returned here, conquering owner, it hadn’t felt as satisfying as he’d thought it would. It had felt somehow empty, hollow.
Andreas tried to force the unwelcome thoughts out of his head. He saw Siena’s slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks, felt her breasts rise and fall against his chest with her breath. Something caught his eye and he looked down to see that the only piece of jewellery she wore was the simple gold birdcage necklace. For some reason it made him unaccountably nervous. As if there was some hidden message he wasn’t getting. He wasn’t sure he wanted to get it.
He touched the necklace with a finger. ‘I hope you’ve brought something more substantial than this to wear?’
Siena flushed and avoided his eyes. ‘Of course.’
Her voice sounded husky, and just like that it pushed Andreas over the brink of control. With a smooth, effortless move he lifted Siena into his arms and strode to the master bedroom. She gave a little squeal and her arms tightened around him.
‘This time—’ he was grim ‘—we’ll make it to the bedroom.’
* * *
When Siena woke a couple of hours later it was to feel fingers running up and down her bare back, along the indentations of her spine. It was delicious, and yet she felt as if she would never be able to open her eyes again. She frowned and made some incoherent mumble, distantly aware of pleasurable aches and sensations in her body, a faint tingling.
‘Come on…we don’t have much time to get ready.’
Siena’s eyes snapped open when she heard that deep dark voice. Andreas was sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but a small towel, smelling clean and fresh, his hair damp. He’d just had a shower. Siena was instantly awake.
He stood up, and she couldn’t help but watch his sheer leonine grace as he unselfconsciously dropped the towel and went to the wardrobe to look for clothes. Siena averted her eyes. She still felt shellshocked by what had just happened. The way Andreas had stripped her bare, laid her on the bed and proceeded to explore her entire body with a thoroughness that had had her gasping, pleading and begging. Like some wanton stranger.
When he’d finally surged between her legs it had been all she could do not to explode right then, and Andreas had been a master of torture, bringing her close to the brink but never over…until she had been crying genuine tears of frustration. She could still feel them now, slightly sticky on her face. She hated that feeling of being a slave to his touch.
Humiliation washed through her and she cursed her relative innocence, not liking the thought of other, more proficient lovers who undoubtedly drove him over the edge.
After all, hadn’t he specified that he expected her to be an inventive lover? Except when he touched her any semblance of thought went out of the window and she could only feel.