Forgiven but not Forgotten?. ABBY GREEN

in a cold sweat. He thought she had the wherewithal to handle him, that it would be second nature, when she didn’t have the first clue about handling a man like him.

      She pushed aside the fact that her apology had been as futile as she’d believed it would be and tossed her head in her most haughty fashion, eyes flashing. ‘I would prefer to clean your toilets rather than do as you’re suggesting. Perhaps you think that because I’m desperate I’ll say yes to becoming your mistress. Is that it, Xenakis?’

      Andreas smiled and bared his teeth. ‘I thought I told you to call me Andreas—and, yes, I think you’ll agree because you miss your life of luxury. But, more than that, because despite everything you want me…’

      Siena went cold. She did want him, but he had no clue who she really was, or why she’d had to betray him so awfully. He had no idea about the tender beating inner heart of her that had very fragile hopes and dreams for a life far from the one she knew. He only saw a spoilt ruined heiress and a way to humiliate her. Because she’d rejected him. He had no idea who she’d had to protect, and that that was why she’d let him be accused in the worst way possible. She’d had no choice.

      She knew now that, if given a chance, this man would take her and humiliate her for his own pleasure. For revenge.

      In her most cutting voice Siena said, ‘Contrary to your over-inflated view of your own levels of attraction, I do not want you. I may well be in a desperate situation Mr Xenakis, but I still have my pride and I wouldn’t become your mistress for your sick amusement if you were the last man on this earth.’

      Andreas looked at the woman standing just a few feet away from him and felt like clapping. Her clothes were crumpled and stained, her hair was tumbled around her face and shoulders in messy golden abandon, but she could have been a queen berating a lowly subject. And he wanted her with a hunger bordering on the very word she’d used herself: desperation.

      He growled, ‘I’m not in the habit of propositioning women who don’t want me, Siena.’

      She backed away at that, and reiterated with not a little desperation, ‘I don’t want you.’

      ‘Liar.’

      She saw the danger in Andreas’s eyes. He advanced on her and she backed away, panic constricting her vocal cords, stopping her from saying anything. Panic at the awful, traitorous way her body was already getting hot, tingling with anticipation. If he kissed her now… Her mind blanked at the thought.

      ‘Once again you’re just too proud to admit you want me, Siena DePiero, and I’m going to prove how much you want me right now.’

      It was insulting how easily Andreas was able to gather her into his arms and pull her close. From somewhere deep inside Siena dredged up the fight she needed. This man was far too dangerous to her. When he pulled her even closer and his head started to descend Siena acted on a visceral reflex to protect herself. She stiffened in his arms and lifted a hand to try and block his mouth from touching her. He obviously misread her intention and caught her wrist with lightning-fast reflexes. The strength of his grip made her gasp.

      ‘Oh, no, you don’t.’

      Siena protested, ‘But I wasn’t—’

      ‘No?’ Andreas’s mouth was hard.

      He didn’t believe her. Siena had never hit anyone in her life, and she felt sick at the thought that he could believe her capable of such violence.

      ‘I wouldn’t have hit you…’ she whispered, willing him to believe her, staring directly into fathomless deep blue eyes.

      Andreas’s expression was stern. ‘And you won’t ever get the chance.’ The threat in his voice was a very sensual one.

      He kept her close with one arm secure around her waist and let her wrist go to bring his other hand up to cup her jaw with surprising gentleness, considering what he’d believed her about to do. And then, before she could make another move, Andreas angled his head down and his mouth closed over hers.

      Shock rendered Siena helpless against the sensual attack Andreas administered. His mouth moved over hers with a confidence that was heady, eliciting an immediate response from Siena that she wasn’t even aware of giving.

      He was the only man who’d kissed her like this and she’d gone up in flames the first time. Nothing had changed. Heat pooled in her lower belly and spread slowly outwards, incinerating everything in its path. Her breasts tightened and felt heavy, achy. His arms around her were like a steel cage, but it was one she was pathetically loath to escape.

      Siena was drowning in the scent of musky male, dimly aware of Andreas’s hand moving down her jaw, caressing, and his fingers undoing the tie at the throat of her shirt, opening the top buttons.

      His tongue teased her lips, making her strain to get closer, to allow him access so that he could stroke his tongue along hers. This was the headiest of illicit pleasures…

      Unbeknownst to Siena, her hands had unfurled from the fists they’d been against Andreas’s chest and were now spread out wide. She was up on tiptoe, as if to get closer to him. Andreas’s hand cupped the back of her head, fingers tangled in long, silky blonde strands of hair. His other hand gripped her hip, kneading the flesh, making Siena move against him.

      It was only when she felt air touch the exposed flesh of her neck and throat that Siena came to her senses and pulled back. She looked up, completely dazed, into dark blue eyes. Heavy-lidded and explicitly sexual.

      Slowly realisation came over her like a chill wind, making all that heady sensuality wither away. One touch and she’d become a slave to her senses. Unable to rationalise anything.

      Siena used her hands to push back violently, almost falling over in the process.

      A million and one things were clamouring in her head, but worst of all was that she’d spectacularly—in neon lights and with fireworks—humiliated herself. She winced when she recalled her haughty tones—‘I don’t want you.’ And what had she just been doing? Proving herself a liar again.

      She grasped at her open shirt and couldn’t look Andreas in the eye. ‘I’d like you to leave now.’ Her voice sounded rusty and raw to her ears.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ANDREAS LOOKED AT Siena, holding onto her open shirt, looking almost shell-shocked, pale as the moonlight outside. His chest felt tight. This reaction was not something he’d expected. And then he realised: acting was second nature to this woman. It was in her blood—that made his blood boil. To have been duped again, even for a nanosecond…

      His voice was harsh. ‘There’s no one here to cry wolf to now, Siena. You have to take responsibility for your actions.’

      He started forward and suddenly her head came up. Her blue eyes were once again sparkling like jewels, her chin determined. Andreas stopped, his body still throbbing with heat. But he forced it back. Something hardened inside him. To think that for a second that he’d seen some kind of vulnerability…? Ludicrous.

      He forced himself to be civilised when he felt anything but. ‘You still want me, Siena, and you can deny it all you want but it’s a lie. I am not leaving here without you tonight. You’ll pay for what you did: in my bed.’

      Siena opened her mouth and shut it again, shock pouring into her body. He sounded so utterly determined. As if he was prepared to carry her bodily from this place. Siena’s mind skittered away from that all too disturbing scenario to think of his other assertion. How could she deny she wanted him after that little display of complete lack of control? His words terrified her, though—his easy assumption that she would just go with him. Just as her father had always expected her to do his bidding.

      She’d tasted personal freedom for the first time since their father had disappeared and it terrified her to think of someone dictating her every move again.

      Siena dropped her hand from her open top buttons