Melanie Milburne - Enemies at the Altar

‘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.

Andreas already knew what would happen. He could feel it in his body. It was thundering through his veins like a torpedo. He couldn’t think of a time when he had felt such forceful, uncontrollable desire. It was like being a hormone-driven teenager all over again. Dynamite couldn’t do more damage than Sienna in temptress mode. ‘Get out of my sight,’ he ground out savagely.

She put up her chin. ‘Say please.’

He strode over to the door, holding it open pointedly. ‘Out.’

She tossed the silver-blonde curtain of her hair back behind her shoulders. ‘If I’m going to stay at your place I’ll need a key,’ she said.

‘The housekeeper will let you in,’ Andreas said. ‘I’ll call her now and tell her to expect you.’

‘What will you tell her and the rest of your staff about us?’ she asked.

‘I don’t make a habit of exchanging confidences with the household staff at any of my residences,’ he said. ‘They will assume it’s a normal marriage, just like everyone else.’

A little frown appeared over her grey-blue eyes. ‘Even though we won’t be sharing a room?’

Andreas felt that punch to his gut again. He could think of nothing more tempting than rolling around his bed with her legs wrapped around his waist, his body buried to the hilt in hers. His blood thickened and pulsed as he thought of how it would feel to finally satiate this need he had harboured so long. He would have his fill of her once and for all. In six months he would walk away. He would finally be immune. Free. In control.

‘It’s very common for people with villas the size of mine to occupy different suites,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t make sense to cram into one room when there are thirty others to choose from.’

Her eyes went wide. ‘That big, huh?’

‘It’s bigger than my father’s.’

A little smile played about the corners of her mouth. ‘I just bet it is,’ she said.

Andreas took out his wallet and handed her a credit card. ‘Here,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘Go shopping. Get your hair and nails done. Have coffee. Have a meal. I won’t be back till late. Don’t wait up.’

She took the card from him without touching his fingers and popped it in her bag. She moved past him in the doorway, not touching but close enough for every hair on his body to stand to attention and for every blood vessel to expand and throb. He was about to let out the breath he was holding when she suddenly stopped and turned back to look at him. ‘Do you have any idea why your father did this?’ she asked.

‘No idea at all.’

She chewed at her lower lip for a moment, a shadow passing like a cloud over her face. ‘He must have really hated me …’

‘What makes you think that?’ he asked, frowning at her. ‘This is about me, not you. My father hated me as much as I hated him.’

A little beat of silence passed.

‘I’d better get going,’ she said with an overly bright smile. ‘So many things to buy, so little time. Ciao.’

Andreas closed the door once she had left and leant back against it heavily, a frown tugging at his forehead. Half an hour with Sienna was like being in the middle of a hurricane with nothing but a paper parasol for protection.

How was he going to get through six months?

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