Enemies at the Altar

‘Why would he say something like that?’ Kate asked with a wrinkled brow.

Sienna ground her teeth as she rinsed the cloth at the sink, splashing water everywhere in the process. ‘He wants me to marry him, that’s why.’

‘Erm … did I hear you correctly?’ Kate asked. ‘I think you said he wants to marry you. Did you actually say that?’

Sienna flung the milk-sodden tea towel in the sink. ‘I did but I’m not marrying him,’ she said with a scowl.

Kate clutched a hand to her chest theatrically. ‘Be still my heart,’ she said. ‘Andreas Ferrante—Florence-based millionaire, no, make that billionaire playboy—the most gorgeous-looking man on this planet—if not the entire universe—wants you to marry him and you said no?’

Sienna gave Kate an irritated look as she reached past her to wipe the milk off the bottom of the peanut butter jar. ‘He’s not that handsome.’

‘Not handsome?’ Kate gaped at her. ‘What about his bank account?’

‘I’m not interested in his bank account,’ Sienna said. ‘I married once for money. I’m not doing it again.’

‘But I thought you really loved Brian Littlemore,’ Kate said. ‘You cried buckets at his funeral.’

Sienna thought of her late husband and how close she had become to him in the few months before he died. She had married him for protection and security, not love. It had been a knee-jerk reaction when her life had spun out of control soon after the death of her mother. After a horrifying incident in which she found herself in bed with a complete stranger after one too many drinks, Brian Littlemore had offered her security and respectability at a time in her life when she had neither. Like her, he had been forced to live a lie for most of his life, but during their marriage he had been honest with her in a way few people ever were. She had come to love him for it. As far as she was concerned, his secret had died with him. She would never betray his trust in her. ‘Brian was a good man,’ she said. ‘He put his family before himself right to the day he died.’

‘It’s a pity he didn’t leave you better provided for,’ Kate said, reaching for the dishcloth. ‘I guess you could always ask your rich twin sister to help you out with the rent if you don’t manage to get a job in the next week or two.’

It still felt a little strange to Sienna to think of having a sister, let alone an identical twin. Gisele and she had been separated at birth when Sienna’s mother had accepted a pay-out from the high profile Australian married man who had got her pregnant. Nell had taken Sienna and handed over Gisele to the childless couple, Hilary and Richard Carter, who had subsequently raised Gisele as their own. Nell had taken the secret to her grave. Sienna had found out quite by accident about Gisele’s existence when she had been travelling in Australia a couple of months ago. She had only taken the trip on a whim when she’d seen a budget air fare online. She had always longed to go to Australia and, after Brian’s death, it seemed a good opportunity to help her clear her head a bit before she made a decision about her future. A chance encounter in a department store had brought about her reunion with her twin.

Although Sienna loved Gisele dearly, she was still finding her feet with the relationship. Gisele had suffered a very bitter and painful breakup because of the sex tape scandal Sienna had been caught up in. Finding herself in that man’s bed with no real memory of how she had got there had been such a shameful experience she had immediately left the country, thus having no idea of the fallout it had created for her sister. How that damning footage had got on the Internet and been wrongly linked to Gisele was something Sienna knew she would always feel dreadful about.

Gisele’s fiancé Emilio had believed Gisele had betrayed him, and it had only been the discovery of the truth about Sienna’s existence that had finally set things right. Their upcoming marriage in Rome was something she was looking forward to with bittersweet feelings. Her behaviour had almost wrecked Gisele and Emilio’s lives. They had lost two precious years together and a baby. What could she ever do to make it up to them?

But Kate had made a very good point. She had to find a source of income and find it soon. Before he had become ill, Sienna had worked in the office of Brian’s antiques business, but the family had stepped in after he had died and promptly sacked her. The trust fund Brian had left her had been just about gobbled up by the ongoing instability of the economy. Her dream of purchasing a home of her own had slipped out of her grasp, and there was no way—short of a miracle—for her to get it back.

Or was there?

Sienna thought of the money Guido Ferrante had bequeathed her. It was more than enough to buy a decent piece of real estate. The rest of it, invested sensibly, would set her up for life. She would be able to pursue her hobby of photography, perhaps even take it a step further and make a proper career out of it. How wonderful to be known for her talent instead of her mistakes and social blunders. How wonderful to be on the other side of the lens for a change, to be the one taking the pictures instead of being the subject.

She chewed at her lip as she thought of the conditions put on the will. Six months married to her worst enemy. It was a high price to pay, but then the reward at the end surely compensated for it?

It wasn’t as if it had to be a real marriage.

An involuntary shiver rippled over her skin at the thought of lying in Andreas’s strongly muscled arms, with his long hair-roughened legs entangled with hers, with his …

Sienna dried her hands on a fresh tea towel before she picked up her bag and keys. ‘I’m going away,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll send you the money for the rent.’

Kate swung around with the empty milk carton in one hand and a wet dishcloth in the other. ‘Away where?’

‘To Florence.’

Kate’s eyes bulged. ‘You’re going to say yes?’

Sienna gave her a grim look. ‘This could turn out to be the longest six months of my life.’

‘Six months?’ Kate frowned in confusion. ‘Isn’t marriage meant to be until death us do part?’

‘Not this one,’ Sienna said.

‘Aren’t you going to pack?’ Kate asked, eyes still out on stalks. ‘You can’t just turn up dressed in torn jeans and a T-shirt. You’ll need clothes, lots and lots of clothes and shoes and make-up and stuff.’

Sienna flung her handbag strap over her shoulder. ‘If Andreas Ferrante wants me to dress like one of his mistresses he can damn well pay for it. Ciao.’

‘Signor Ferrante is in a design team meeting and cannot be disturbed,’ the receptionist informed Sienna.

‘Tell him his fiancée is here,’ Sienna said with a guileless smile.

The receptionist’s eyes widened as they took in Sienna’s travel-worn appearance. ‘I’m not sure …’ she began uncertainly.

‘Tell him if he doesn’t see me right now the wedding won’t go ahead,’ Sienna said with a don’t-mess-with-me look.

The receptionist reached for the intercom and spoke in Italian to Andreas. ‘There’s a young woman here who claims to be your fiancée. Do you want me to call Security?’

Andreas’s deep mellifluous voice sounded over the system. ‘Tell her to wait in Reception.’

Sienna leaned over the desk and swung the speaker her way. ‘Get your butt out here, Andreas. We have things to discuss.’

‘The boardroom,’ he said. ‘Ten minutes.’

‘Out here now,’ Sienna said through gritted teeth.

‘Cara,’ he drawled, ‘such impatience fires my blood. Have you missed me terribly?’

Sienna pasted a false smile on her face for the sake of the receptionist. ‘Darling, you can’t imagine how awful it’s been without your arms around me. I’m going crazy for you. It’s been absolute torture to be without your kisses, your touch and your body doing all those wonderful things to—’

‘Let’s keep some things private, shall we?’ he interjected coolly.

Sienna smiled at the now goggle-eyed receptionist. ‘You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but he has the most amazingly huge—’

‘Sienna,’ Andreas clipped out, ‘get in here right now.’

Sienna slipped off the desk and gave the receptionist a fingertip wave. ‘Isn’t he adorable?’

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.’

‘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, she wasn’t my fiancée,’ he said, tearing his gaze away from the tempting sight of her pert breasts. ‘I hadn’t got that far. I had bought a ring, however. You can borrow it if you like.’

She gave him a slitted-eye glare. ‘Don’t even think about it, Rich Boy,’ she said. ‘I want my own ring, not someone else’s.’

Andreas came over to where she was standing. He could feel the force field of her as soon as he crossed that invisible line. Her summery fragrance assaulted his nostrils, a combination of flowers and feminine warmth that was as heady as any mind-altering drug. This close, he could see the tiny dusting of freckles over the bridge of her retroussé nose and the tiniest of chickenpox scars above her left eyebrow.

Almost of its own volition, his gaze flicked down to her mouth.

Lust gave him a knockout punch in the gut when he saw the way the tip of her tongue darted out to leave a glistening layer of moisture on those plump, ripe lips.

He fought his leaping pulse back under control, dragging his gaze back to her glittering one. ‘This is all a game to you, isn’t it?’ he said.

Her top lip curled at him and her grey-blue eyes glittered. ‘You were going to kiss me, weren’t you?’

Andreas ground his teeth until he thought he’d have to eat jelly for the rest of his life. ‘I want to throttle you, not kiss you,’ he said.

‘You put one finger on me and see what happens,’ she said, matching him stare for stare.