Reunited By A Shock Pregnancy

‘Come and dance with me for old times’ sake.’ Danny stood up and walked around the table.

Sienna hesitated, unable to explain to herself why she felt reluctant to take his hand. ‘I expect you want to dance with your wife.’

‘Victoria is dancing with her father.’ Danny tugged her out of her chair and led her over to the dance floor. He kept hold of her hand and slid his other arm around her waist. ‘We were good friends when we were younger, weren’t we? Do you remember when a group of us hired a river boat for the day in York and you fell in?’

‘You pushed me in.’

‘Ah, but I jumped in and rescued you, didn’t I?’ Danny went on to recount other stories from their youth, and Sienna was soon laughing at the memories. She had got to know Danny when he had been a regular at her father’s pub where she’d served behind the bar most evenings and weekends, saving up to go to university. Not that her father had paid her much for all the hours she’d worked, but at least while he was being obnoxious to her he had left her mother alone.

Danny De Conti and his public school friends had seemed glamorous and exciting compared to the local boys from the village.

‘Danny’s not bad looking, but his older brother is drop-dead gorgeous,’ the other barmaid, Becky, had told Sienna. ‘Domenico spends much of his time in Italy, but my mum is a cook up at the hall and she heard that he’s coming home next week. By the way, Lady Mandeville is looking for a part-time cleaner and Mum says she’ll put your name forward if you like.’

Which was how, ten years ago, Sienna had been mopping the kitchen floor at Sethbury Hall when Nico had walked in, his riding boots leaving footprints where she had just cleaned. ‘Mi dispiace,’ he’d murmured with barely a glance at her. But then he’d stopped and turned to stare at her, the faint frown between his eyebrows not marring the masculine beauty of his face. ‘Who are you?’

She had been struck dumb; dazzled by the handsome, bronzed god who had materialised in front of her and could not possibly be real. She’d blinked but he had still been there, tall and strong-looking, his exotic appearance emphasised by his golden skin and unexpected brilliant blue eyes. As she’d stared back at him, a slow smile had lifted the corners of his gorgeous mouth and her heart had raced.

‘Perhaps you are not real and that’s why you don’t have a name,’ he’d teased. ‘But if you are real your feet must be wet.’

Confused, she’d glanced down and discovered that the mop was dripping water over her trainers. ‘I’m Sienna,’ she’d blurted out, mortified when he’d run his eyes over her faded jeans and tee shirt. All her clothes had been years old but she hadn’t had money to buy new, fashionable stuff like the other girls she’d known at school. Her tee shirt had been too tight, and because it had been a hot day she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra.

To her horror she had felt her nipples harden, but when she’d hurriedly crossed her arms in front of her she had seen a gleam in Nico’s eyes that had sent a delicious shiver through her. It had been the first time in her life that she’d felt desire, and in that instant she had become aware of her femininity.

‘My name is Domenico, but my friends call me Nico,’ he’d told her.

‘I know, sir.’ She’d suddenly remembered her lowly position and his exalted one. One day he would inherit Sethbury Hall and the title of Viscount Mandeville when his grandfather died.

He had laughed. ‘I very much hope you will call me Nico, Si-enna.’ Even the way he’d said her name had been sexy. ‘You can’t have wet feet for the rest of the day. Take off your shoes and we’ll sit in the garden while they dry. You can tell me why a girl as beautiful as you is working here.’

She had been seduced by Nico’s easy charm and his self-assurance that even back then had sat lightly on his broad shoulders. He had kissed her for the first time that same afternoon while they were sitting in the shade of a lilac tree covered with heavenly scented purple spires. Later she had walked home on air and even her father’s drunken bad temper couldn’t burst her bubble. She’d been in love with a handsome prince who she’d been sure would make all her dreams come true.

Right now, Nico looked as dangerous as the wicked wolf beloved of so many fairy tales. Time shifted to the present and Sienna found herself looking into the glittering gaze of her ex-husband. He was moving purposefully across the dance floor towards her, accompanied by the new Mrs De Conti.

‘Let’s swap. I don’t want to be accused of monopolising your delightful bride,’ he said to Danny, skilfully executing the change of partners before Sienna had time to object.

He swept her across the dance floor so fast that her head spun and her feet barely touched the floor. When she tried to ease away from him, he clamped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him so that her breasts were crushed against his chest.

‘What are you doing?’ she muttered, struggling to speak with her face pressed against his shirt front. She could see the shadow of his dark chest hairs beneath the fine white silk. The heat of his body was melting her insides.

‘I could ask you the same question,’ he said in a terse voice, and when she glanced up at his face she realised that he was furious. ‘Did you come to Danny’s wedding to cause trouble?’

She was mystified. ‘What do you mean by trouble? What have I done?’

‘Did you give any thought to Danny’s new bride while you were flirting with him in front of the wedding guests?’

‘I was not flirting...’

‘You were all over him like a rash. Dio, you’ve got every male in the marquee panting over you. Why embarrass Victoria like that? Was it to prove that you can have any man you want, including my ass of a brother?’

Sienna sucked in a sharp breath, her temper rising to meet Nico’s. ‘You asked me to come to the reception,’ she snapped. ‘It’s ridiculous to make me out as some sort of man-eater. No one here is interested in me.’

‘I don’t believe you are unaware of the effect you have on men.’

‘I only have an effect on you.’ The words spilled from her mouth before she realised what she had said.

Nico tensed and stared at her, and the hunger in his eyes both excited and appalled her. He was her ex-husband and whatever there had been between them had died a long time ago, she reminded herself. So why did he make her feel dizzy and disconnected from reality?

She was barely aware of the other people on the dance floor. There was just Nico filling her vision and swamping her senses. He was even more dangerously handsome and charismatic than her memory of him but she was determined not to fall under his spell again.

CHAPTER THREE (#u0d01dbe0-5845-52f5-afeb-69a308fc3bf9)

SIENNA ATTEMPTED TO wrench herself out of Nico’s arms and glared at him when he tightened his hold on her waist. ‘I don’t want to dance with you,’ she told him, her fury mixed with panic that she could not control her response to him. She was tempted to dig one of her stiletto heels into his foot. ‘You can’t make me.’

‘Do you want to put that to the test?’ He laughed softly at her fulminating look. ‘You did not have such a fiery temper when you were my wife.’

‘At eighteen I was too in awe of you to say boo to a goose. But I grew up and I’m no longer the girl who worshipped the ground you walked on.’

‘You’ve certainly changed. You are more confident and assertive, and very sexy, cara.’ The unholy gleam in his eyes was part teasing and part male admiration that sent another sizzle of heat through Sienna. Nico dropped his hands from her waist and perversely she wished he was still holding her.

They had reached the door of the marquee, and when she followed him outside she took a deep breath to steady her racing pulse. In midsummer the days were long, and although it was past nine o’clock, darkness was only just falling, turning the sky a soft purple hue. The air was warm and sultry, filled with the mingled scents of roses and lavender that grew in wide beds in the garden. In the distance there was an ominous rumble of thunder.

‘I should go.’ As she spoke, Sienna checked her watch. She would have to walk back to the village where she had left her car, and it would be completely dark when she drove across the moors to pick up the main road that led to the motorway.

‘Come up to the house for a drink.’ Nico’s voice was casual, but when she glanced at him, something about his intent expression made her heart miss a beat.

‘I can’t,’ she said quickly before she gave in to the temptation to spend another hour with him. It was unlikely she would ever see him again after tonight and she resented the little pang her heart gave. She was so over him, she reminded herself sternly. ‘I had a glass of champagne when we toasted the bride and groom and I’ll be over the limit to drive if I have any more alcohol. Besides, it’s a good five-hour trip back to London.’

He frowned. ‘You can’t make that long journey tonight. Why didn’t you book a hotel room?’

She shrugged, not wanting to admit that she’d made a spur-of-the-moment decision that morning to drive to Much Matcham because she’d mistakenly believed that he was getting married and she had been curious about his choice of bride. ‘No rooms were available at The George, or at any of the local B & Bs. I suppose they were all booked by the wedding guests. If I’m tired on the way home, I’ll stop at a motorway services hotel.’

‘You can spend the night here at Sethbury Hall.’ Nico gave her a speculative look when she stared at him. ‘Why not?’

‘I can think of several reasons why it would be a terrible idea for me to spend the night with you.’

‘As a matter of fact I was going to suggest that you sleep in one of the guest rooms,’ he drawled. The amusement in his voice caused a hot stain of embarrassment to flare on Sienna’s cheeks and she was furious with herself for jumping to the wrong conclusion. ‘To satisfy my curiosity, why would it be a terrible idea for us to sleep together? We are attracted to each other and we’re both consenting adults.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ She shook her head and tried to dismiss the erotic images in her mind of Nico making love to her on his huge four-poster bed.

The gleam in his eyes made her wonder if he could read her thoughts. ‘What are you afraid of?’ he asked softly.

That you will break my heart for a second time.

‘I’m not afraid of anything,’ she snapped. ‘I simply think it’s a bad idea.’ She hated that he tied her in knots and without another word she swung round and started to walk along the gravel path that wound around the side of the house. But she had only taken a few steps when a thunderclap shattered the still air. The noise was as loud as an explosion and Sienna jumped when a bolt of lightning zigzagged like a white scar through the sky that had turned black as the storm clouds mustered. And then the rain fell; big, hard raindrops that stung her bare shoulders and arms.

In seconds it was a deluge. Nico grabbed her hand. ‘Come on,’ he shouted above the crash of thunder. Half-blinded by the torrential rain, she clung to his hand as they raced up the stone steps and across the terrace. Nico opened the French doors and pulled her behind him into the drawing room. Sienna barely noticed her surroundings. She was soaked to the skin and her dress clung to her body. Following Nico’s gaze, she glanced down and saw that her nipples were jutting provocatively through the wet silk.

He had closed the glass doors and the noise of the thunderstorm outside was muted. But inside the room a different storm raged. The sexual tension sparked between them and Sienna’s skin prickled; every one of her nerve-endings acutely aware of him.