Enemies at the Altar. Melanie Milburne
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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.’
‘Likewise,’ he said dryly, ‘but it’s only for six months and it’s only when we’re in public. We can wrestle each other to the ground when we’re alone.’
Sienna felt her cheeks flame with colour as the images his words conjured up flooded her brain. ‘I haven’t the faintest clue how to wrestle.’
‘Perhaps I could teach you,’ he said with a slanting smile that contained a hint of mockery and something else she didn’t even want to think about identifying. ‘The only thing you have to remember is the winner is the one who finishes on top.’
Sienna turned away so he couldn’t see how hot and bothered she felt. Her body felt as if it were on fire. Her skin was prickling all over as she thought of his strong lean body pinning hers beneath his. ‘How soon do we have to … you know … make things official?’
‘As soon as possible,’ he said. ‘I’ve applied for a special licence. It should come through any day now.’
‘And what sort of wedding do you have in mind?’ she asked, turning to look at him again.
‘You’re surely not hankering for a white wedding?’ he said with a mocking arch of one of his eyebrows.
She gave him a flippant look in return. ‘It’s supposed to be the bride’s day.’
‘You’ve already been a bride.’ He held her gaze for a microsecond before adding in disgust, ‘To a man old enough to be your grandfather.’
Sienna raised her chin at him. ‘At least I loved him.’
His lip curled. ‘You loved his money, you trashy little gold-digger,’ he said. ‘Did he make you earn every penny by opening your legs on command?’
She gave him her wild-child smile, the one the press had documented time and time again—the one that painted her as a sleep-around-slut on the make. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ she asked.
He flung himself away from the table, thrusting his hands deep in his trouser pockets as if he didn’t trust himself not to shake her till her teeth rattled.
Sienna found it exhilarating to know she had yanked his chain. He was always so cool and in control, but there was a side to him only she brought out. It was his primitive side, the raw male side that wanted to dominate and subdue her. The thought of him making her submit to him made her skin lift in a shiver.
She would fight him tooth and nail.
Andreas took some steadying breaths. She was doing it deliberately, of course. Trying her best to get under his skin, to prove nothing had changed in spite of the passage of time. How could one woman have such an effect on him?
He was not a slave to lust.
He had abhorred that in his father, how he had betrayed his wife of more than thirty years to bed a common tart.
Andreas prided himself on his self-control. He had the normal urges of any full-blooded male, but he always chose his partners with discretion. The women he slept with had class and poise. They were not headstrong harpies. They did not stir in him such unbridled passion.
He never lost his head.
But something about Sienna inflamed him and he had no control over it. He wanted to drive himself in her as hard and deeply as he could. He wanted to rut her like a wild animal did a random mate. He wanted to tame her, to have her submit to him in every way possible. His body ached and burned for her feverishly.
She was the forbidden fruit he had always prided himself he could resist.
That was no doubt why his father had set things up the way he had. He had known the temptation Sienna had always been for him. His father could not have thought of a worse punishment than tying her to him, dangling her under his nose, day in and day out. What had he been thinking? Had his father really hated him that much?
Andreas turned back to face Sienna. She was sitting down again, her jeans-clad legs propped up on the desk, her arms folded across her chest, which pushed her beautiful breasts upwards, looking every bit the impudent schoolgirl called into the headmaster’s office. She had a lamentable disrespect for authority. She was wilful and defiant. She didn’t know the meaning of the word respect. She could be surly and then sunny in the blink of an eye. She could be a sultry siren one second and an innocent waif the next.
He didn’t have a clue how he was going to manage this farcical arrangement, but manage it he would, even if it meant sleeping with her to get her out of his system once and for all.
Every drop of his blood sizzled at the thought.
‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t found a place yet,’ she said. ‘I only just flew in.’
‘Where are your things?’
‘I didn’t bring anything with me,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d leave the wardrobe arrangements up to you. I figured the stuff I normally wear won’t suit.’
He stared at her incredulously. ‘You came here with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing?’
She gave him a feisty look. ‘If I’m going to act the part, I need to dress for it. But you can pay for it, not me.’
‘I have no problem with footing the bill,’ Andreas said. ‘It just seems a little unconventional, if not impetuous, for a young woman of your age to fly about the globe with nothing but jeans and a T-shirt and a handbag. Most of the women I know carry enough make-up and toiletries to sink a ship.’
‘I’m very low maintenance,’ she said.
‘I very much doubt it,’ he muttered.
She lowered her slim legs to the floor with a movement that was both coltish and graceful. ‘I’ll need a place to stay until we make things official,’ she said. ‘A five-star hotel will do nicely.’
‘You can stay at my villa.’ He scribbled the address on a sheet of paper and pushed it across the desk to her. ‘I want you right under my nose where I can keep an eye on you.’
‘You think I’ll spill my guts to the press like your ex-fiancée did?’ she asked with an insolent smile as she popped the folded paper inside her bra.
‘Technically,