Forgiven but not Forgotten?

As if he sensed the direction her thoughts were taking, Siena could see Andreas’s eyes flash triumphantly in the gloom.

Suddenly, as if she’d been injected with a dose of adrenalin, her brain became clear. Thinking of her sister focused her thoughts. If she was going to walk out of this apartment with this man she had to make sure that the one person who needed her was going to benefit.

The thought of telling Andreas about her sister, appealing to his humanity, was anathema. If anything, this evening had proved just how far Andreas was willing to go to seek his revenge. If she told him about Serena he might very well use her against Siena in some way, exactly as her father had. Siena shivered at the very thought. No way could she ever let that happen again.

She knew, though, that the very audacious plan forming in her head would ensure Andreas’s hatred of her for ever.

Andreas’s blood hummed with anticipation as he watched the woman who stood just feet away, her chin still lifted defiantly, even though they both knew she was about to give in. She would be his. Her little act of pride had just been an exercise in proving to Andreas that he was still the last man she’d choose on earth, even if there was enough heat between them to melt an iceberg. And even if she was desperate.

His mouth tightened into a line. If anything it just proved that he was right: Siena wanted out of her challenging circumstances and back into the world she knew so well.

All he cared about was sating this burning desire inside him. Witnessing Siena DePiero swallow her pride and her denial of their mutual attraction would be a delicious revenge, and the very least he deserved after suffering so acutely at her hands.

‘Well, Siena? What’s it to be?’

Siena hated the smug tone of arrogance in Andreas’s voice. She couldn’t believe she was even contemplating what she was about to do, but assured herself she could do this. She had to.

In a way it should be easy—she’d merely be reverting to the type she’d played well for as long as she could remember: that of a privileged heiress with nothing more on her mind than the dress she’d wear to the next charity function. No one except for Serena had ever known of her deep hatred of that vacuous world where people routinely stabbed one another in the back to get ahead. Where emotions were so calcified that no reaction was genuine.

Before she could lose her nerve altogether, Siena blurted out, ‘I will come with you—right now if you wish.’ She saw Andreas’s slow smile of triumph curling his mouth and said quickly, before he thought he was about to have everything his way, ‘But I have terms for this…if we’re to embark on…’ Words failed her. She simply could not articulate what he wanted and expected. What she’d agreed to in her head.

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