easily. Something bitter pierced her. Perhaps he’d just wanted to amuse himself by seeing the disgraced heiress up close and he was already bored.
So why did she feel so desolate all of a sudden?
* * *
Andreas stepped into the lift behind Siena and pressed the button. He might be giving her the illusion of letting her go, but that was not his intention in the slightest. Seeing her again had merely solidified his desire to have her in his bed. Finally. Acquiescent and his. That disdain she did so well would have no place in the relationship they would have. She was in no position to argue or resist him, and the thought of seeing her come undone was heady in the extreme.
His car was waiting by the kerb and a young security guard jumped out, giving the keys to Andreas, who held the passenger door open for Siena to get in.
Siena stood stiffly by the open door and looked at Andreas without meeting his eye. She was still trembling at the way his hand had rested lightly on the small of her back the whole way down in the elevator. And also at the speed with which he now appeared to want to get rid of her.
‘If you can point me in the direction of the nearest tube I’ll make my own way home.’
Andreas’s voice was like steel. ‘It’s almost eleven-thirty at night. There is no way you’re taking the tube alone. Get into the car, Siena, or I will put you in myself. Don’t think I won’t.’
Siena looked at him properly and saw how stern he seemed. She felt a shiver of something go through her—recognition of how huge and broad he was against the night sky. And yet she wasn’t scared of him. Not as she’d been of her father. She somehow knew instinctively that Andreas would never lash out like that. Violence towards women was born of weakness and fear. Andreas didn’t have that in him. And it surprised her to admit that she trusted this gut feeling so much.
Knowing that if she walked off now he’d just follow her again, Siena gave in and slid into the car, its luxurious confines once again surrounding her like a cocoon. Until Andreas got in beside her and the atmosphere turned from relaxing to electric.
As they pulled away from the kerb Andreas asked easily, ‘Did your sister come to London with you?’
Instantly Siena tensed. She answered carefully, ‘No... She went to...to the south of France to stay with friends of hers.’
Andreas glanced at Siena, who was looking stonily ahead. He had to concede that she’d never taken after her more obvious sister by appearing in the gossip columns. Siena clearly preferred to clean toilets rather than to be seen in polite society again and be exposed to ridicule or censure.
He had to admit to a grudging and surprising respect that Siena was doing the sort of work she would have taken completely for granted her whole life. Perhaps now that their father was gone Siena saw no need to be responsible for the precious family name and was happy to wash her hands of her infamous sister, who had been well known as a party girl.
In truth, Andreas didn’t really care about Serena. The sister he was concerned about was sitting right beside him, her legs looking very long as she angled them well away from him. He allowed himself a small predatory smile to think of a time when they would be wrapped around his hips as he finally exorcised this demon from his blood for good.
He hadn’t elaborated on the fact that he had been actively looking for her for six months. In fact he’d been thinking about her ever since Paris. However, it had only been six months ago, when he’d finally had the luxury of time after establishing himself, that he’d begun to focus on such a personal pursuit. Siena DePiero had always been in his sights...
To Siena’s relief Andreas seemed to be done with questioning her, and they drove in silence through the empty London streets. Rain started to spatter gently on the windscreen. For the first time since she’d left Italy Siena felt a pang of