The boardroom was empty by the time Sienna arrived. Andreas had a face like thunder and the air was crackling with palpable tension.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he asked even before she had closed the door.
Sienna threw him a contemptuous glare. ‘Apparently we’re engaged,’ she said, clicking the door shut with considerable force. ‘I read about it in the press.’
His mouth went to a flat line. ‘I’m not the one who leaked that to the media.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘You know what they say about a woman scorned.’
Sienna raised her brows. ‘Perfect Portia did that? Wow, I bet she didn’t read that in the Good Girl’s Guide to Avoiding Social Slip-Ups.’
His brows snapped together. ‘I was about to ask her to marry me,’ he said. ‘She has a right to be upset.’
‘My heart bleeds,’ Sienna said on an exaggerated sigh.
He threw her a flinty look. ‘Bitch.’
She smiled at him sweetly. ‘Bastard.’
The air crackled some more.
Andreas paced the floor, his hand tracking another ragged pathway through the thick pelt of his hair. ‘We have to find a way to manage this,’ he said. ‘Six months and we’ll be free of this. I’ve looked at it from every angle. There’s no way out of it. We just have to do what’s expected. We can both win.’
Sienna pulled out one of the ergonomic chairs and sat down, swinging it from side to side as she watched him work the floor. ‘What’s in it for me?’ she asked.
He stopped pacing to look at her, his frown deepening. ‘What do you mean what’s in it for you? You get a truckload of money at the end of it.’
She held his hazel gaze. ‘I want more.’
His mouth tightened even further. ‘How much more?’
‘How about double?’
His jaw worked for a moment. ‘A quarter.’
‘A third,’ she said, holding his look.
He slammed his hands on the table right in front of her, his face so close to hers she could smell the good quality coffee on his breath. ‘Damn you to hell and back, you’re not getting any more,’ he said. ‘The deal stands as it stands. I’m not negotiating on it.’
Sienna rolled her chair back and rose to her feet in one fluid movement. ‘I guess that’s it then,’ she said. ‘If you want me to marry you then you’ll have to pay for the privilege.’
She was at the door when he finally spoke. ‘All right,’ he said on a heavily expelled breath. ‘I’ll give you a third on top of what my father bequeathed to you.’
Sienna turned to face him. ‘You want that chateau real bad, don’t you?’
His expression was rigid with tension. ‘It belonged to my mother,’ he said. ‘I will do anything it takes to keep it out of the hands of my greedy, profligate second cousin.’
‘Even marry me?’
He gave a humourless chuckle. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I can actually think of worse things than marrying you.’
‘Your imagination is streets ahead of mine because I can’t think of anything worse than being married to you,’ she said as she resumed her seat.
The air tightened like a steel cable.
Sienna felt his gaze run over her. It felt like a hot caress on her skin. His eyes seemed to sear the flesh off her bones. She felt naked under his scrutiny.
But then he had seen her naked, or almost.
She cringed at the memory. She had wanted him to be her first lover. She had dreamt about it for months. She had fantasised about him rescuing her from the life of drudgery she and her mother had been forced to live. All those years of never knowing what house they would be living in next. Not knowing what school or suburb she would be residing in. Her childhood had been a patchwork of packing up and leaving, of trying to fit in a new place, of trying to make friends with people who already had enough friends. She had always felt the odd one out. She didn’t belong upstairs or downstairs.
But everything had changed when her mother had got the position as housekeeper at the Ferrante villa in Rome. It was the most stunning property, with fabulous gardens and a massive swimming pool and tennis court. It had felt like paradise after years of living in a variety of cramped and mouldy inner city flats.
It had been the first time in her life Sienna had seen her mother truly happy and settled. She hadn’t wanted it to end. In her immature mind she’d had it all planned. Andreas, the son and heir of the Ferrante fortune, would fall in love with her and marry her. He was the handsome playboy prince, she was the pretty but penniless pauper, but their love and desire for each other would overcome that. She had been determined that he would notice her for once instead of treating her like an annoying puppy that hadn’t been properly housetrained. To him, she had always been the cleaning lady’s brat. He had even called her enfant terrible.
But this night it would be different. He hadn’t been home in months. This time he would see the change in her. He would see her for the sexually mature young woman she had believed herself to be.
She had seen his hazel eyes follow her all evening when she had helped bring in the family’s meal. She had sensed his male appraisal as she brought in the coffee and liqueurs to the salone. His nostrils had flared when she had leant down to place his cup beside him, as if he was breathing in her fragrance. Her hair had brushed against his arm and she had felt the electric current of awareness shoot through her body. He had looked at her then with those green and brown-flecked eyes of his and she had known he wanted her.
She had felt it.
She had waited for him in his bedroom, draping herself alluringly across his bed, dressed only in her knickers and bra, nervous but excited at the same time. Her body had tingled all over in anticipation.
The door had opened and Andreas had stood there for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. But then he seemed to give himself a mental shake and his expression immediately locked down, becoming stony, marble-like. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ he growled. ‘Get dressed and get out.’
Sienna had been crushed. She had been so certain he wanted her. She had seen it. She had felt it. She had sensed it in the air. The heavily charged atmosphere had practically exploded with erotic tension. The same tension she could see in his body even though he had done his best to hide it. ‘I want you to make love to me,’ she said. ‘I know you want me. I’ve known it for ages.’
His mouth had been so tight it looked as if it had been drawn there with a thin felt tip pen. ‘You’re mistaken, Sienna,’ he said. ‘I have no interest in you whatsoever.’
Sienna had got off the bed and approached him. It had been brazen of her and impulsive but she had wanted to prove to him that what she felt was not just a figment of her youthful imagination. ‘I want you, Andreas,’ she said in a sultry tone as she reached for him.
Andreas had grasped her by the upper arms just as the door opened …
Sienna blinked herself out of the past. She didn’t want to remember that dreadful scene between Andreas and his father. She didn’t want to remember the unforgivable lies she had told. She had been desperate, terrified that her mother would lose the job she loved so much. The words had come tumbling out, a river of nonsense that she had regretted ever since. Andreas had never come home again, not even when his mother lay dying.
When Sienna looked up Andreas was standing behind the boardroom table, his steely gaze focused on her. ‘There are some practicalities we need to sort out,’ he said.
She resisted the urge to moisten her bark-dry lips. ‘Practicalities?’
‘The will states we have to live together as man and wife,’ he said. ‘That means you will have to sleep wherever I sleep.’
Sienna shot to her feet so fast the chair toppled over behind her. ‘I’m not sleeping with you!’
He rolled his eyes as if dealing with an imbecile. ‘Not in the same bed, Sienna, but under the same roof,’ he said. ‘We have to put on a show for the public.’
She blinked at him. ‘You mean we have to act as if we really wanted to be married to each other?’
He continued to look at her with that unwavering hazel gaze. ‘As much as it pains me to say this, yes, we will have to act as if we’re in love.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ she gasped. ‘I can’t do that! Everyone knows how much I hate you.’