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Authors: Abby Green
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you really think you would ever have had a chance with someone like her? She’ll be married within a couple of years to one of those pale-faced pretty boys in that ballroom, or to some old relic of medieval Italian royalty.’
Andreas had said bitterly, ‘I only kissed her because she was looking at me as if I was her last supper—’
The other voice came again, harder now. ‘Don’t be such a fool Xenakis. She seduced you because like every other spoilt brat in there she was bored—and you were game. Do you seriously think she hasn’t already got a string of lovers to her name? Those girls are not the innocents they seem. They’re hardened and experienced.’
Siena had barely been breathing by then, her back all but flattened to the wall by the door. She’d heard Andreas emit an expletive and then she’d heard footsteps and fled, unable to countenance offering up an apology after that character assassination—after hearing his words, ‘I only kissed her because she was looking at me as if I was her last supper.’
The following morning Siena had woken early and felt stifled in her opulent bedroom. She’d dressed in jeans and a loose sweatshirt and had sneaked out through the lobby at dawn, with a baseball cap on her head in case she saw anyone she knew. She’d craved air and space—time to think about what had happened.
That searing conversation she’d overheard had been reverberating in her head and she had run smack into a stone wall. Except it hadn’t been a wall. It had been Andreas, standing beside a motorbike, in the act of putting on a helmet. Siena’s baseball cap had fallen off, and she’d felt her long hair tumble around her shoulders, but shock had kept her rigid. In the cold light of day, in a black leather jacket and jeans, he’d looked dark and menacing. But she’d been captivated by his black eye and swollen jaw.
Startled recognition had turned to blistering anger. ‘Don’t look so shocked, sweetheart. Don’t you recognise the work of your father’s men? Don’t you know they did this to avenge your honour?’
Siena had felt nauseous, and had realised why his voice had sounded so thick the previous evening. She should have known. Hadn’t her father done the same thing, and worse, to her half-brother—his own son?
‘I—’ she’d started, but Andreas had cut her off with a slash of his hand through the air.
‘I don’t want to hear it. As much as I hate you right now, I hate myself more for being stupid enough to get caught. You know I’ve lost my job? I’ll be lucky to get work cleaning toilets in a camping site after this...’
He’d burnt her up and down with a scathing look.
‘I’d love to say that what we shared was worth it, but the only thing that would have made it remotely worth it is if you’d stopped acting the innocent and let me take you up against the wall of that dressing room as I wanted to. Then your father might not have caught us in the act.’
The crudeness of his words—the very confirmation that all the time she’d been quivering and shivering with burgeoning need, half scared to death, he’d assumed she was putting on some sort of an act and had wanted to take her standing up against the wall—had frozen Siena inside. Not to mention the excoriating knowledge that he’d merely made the most of an opportunity, and she’d all but thrown herself at him like some kind of sex-crazed groupie.
He’d taken her chin in his fingers, holding her tight enough to hurt, and he’d said, ‘As the French say, au revoir, Siena DePiero. Because some day our paths will cross again. You can be sure of that.’
He’d let her go, looked at her and uttered an expletive. With that he’d put on his helmet, swung his leg over the powerful bike and with a roar of the throttle had left her standing there, staring after him as if she’d been turned to stone.
The streets of London at night made Siena’s memories fade. But the tangible anger she’d felt from
Andreas had said bitterly, ‘I only kissed her because she was looking at me as if I was her last supper—’
The other voice came again, harder now. ‘Don’t be such a fool Xenakis. She seduced you because like every other spoilt brat in there she was bored—and you were game. Do you seriously think she hasn’t already got a string of lovers to her name? Those girls are not the innocents they seem. They’re hardened and experienced.’
Siena had barely been breathing by then, her back all but flattened to the wall by the door. She’d heard Andreas emit an expletive and then she’d heard footsteps and fled, unable to countenance offering up an apology after that character assassination—after hearing his words, ‘I only kissed her because she was looking at me as if I was her last supper.’
The following morning Siena had woken early and felt stifled in her opulent bedroom. She’d dressed in jeans and a loose sweatshirt and had sneaked out through the lobby at dawn, with a baseball cap on her head in case she saw anyone she knew. She’d craved air and space—time to think about what had happened.
That searing conversation she’d overheard had been reverberating in her head and she had run smack into a stone wall. Except it hadn’t been a wall. It had been Andreas, standing beside a motorbike, in the act of putting on a helmet. Siena’s baseball cap had fallen off, and she’d felt her long hair tumble around her shoulders, but shock had kept her rigid. In the cold light of day, in a black leather jacket and jeans, he’d looked dark and menacing. But she’d been captivated by his black eye and swollen jaw.
Startled recognition had turned to blistering anger. ‘Don’t look so shocked, sweetheart. Don’t you recognise the work of your father’s men? Don’t you know they did this to avenge your honour?’
Siena had felt nauseous, and had realised why his voice had sounded so thick the previous evening. She should have known. Hadn’t her father done the same thing, and worse, to her half-brother—his own son?
‘I—’ she’d started, but Andreas had cut her off with a slash of his hand through the air.
‘I don’t want to hear it. As much as I hate you right now, I hate myself more for being stupid enough to get caught. You know I’ve lost my job? I’ll be lucky to get work cleaning toilets in a camping site after this...’
He’d burnt her up and down with a scathing look.
‘I’d love to say that what we shared was worth it, but the only thing that would have made it remotely worth it is if you’d stopped acting the innocent and let me take you up against the wall of that dressing room as I wanted to. Then your father might not have caught us in the act.’
The crudeness of his words—the very confirmation that all the time she’d been quivering and shivering with burgeoning need, half scared to death, he’d assumed she was putting on some sort of an act and had wanted to take her standing up against the wall—had frozen Siena inside. Not to mention the excoriating knowledge that he’d merely made the most of an opportunity, and she’d all but thrown herself at him like some kind of sex-crazed groupie.
He’d taken her chin in his fingers, holding her tight enough to hurt, and he’d said, ‘As the French say, au revoir, Siena DePiero. Because some day our paths will cross again. You can be sure of that.’
He’d let her go, looked at her and uttered an expletive. With that he’d put on his helmet, swung his leg over the powerful bike and with a roar of the throttle had left her standing there, staring after him as if she’d been turned to stone.
The streets of London at night made Siena’s memories fade. But the tangible anger she’d felt from
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