A Breathless Bride. Fiona Brand

chest again.

      His hold on her arms tightened reflexively. The sudden full-body contact sent another electrifying shock wave of heat through Constantine, and in that moment the list of what he wanted, and needed, expanded.

      Two years ago passion had blindsided him to the point that he had looked past his parents’ stormy marital history and the tarnished reputation of the Ambrosi family in an attempt to grasp the mirage. He didn’t trust what he had felt then, and he trusted it even less now. But he knew one thing for sure: one night wouldn’t be enough.

      Sienna threw a glance over her shoulder. “This media craziness is all your fault. If you hadn’t turned up, they wouldn’t have bothered with us.”

      “Calm down.” Constantine studied the approaching reporters. “And unless you want to be on the six o’clock news, stay with me and keep quiet. I’ll do the talking.”

      The two dark-suited men who had been flanking Constantine earlier materialized and strolled toward the reporters.

      In that moment Sienna realized they had been joined by a television crew.

      The barrage of questions started. “Ms. Ambrosi, is it true Ambrosi Pearls is facing bankruptcy?”

      “Do you have any comment to make about your father allegedly conning money out of Lorenzo Atraeus?”

      Several flashes went off, momentarily blinding her. An ultraslim, glamorous redhead darted beneath one of the bodyguard’s arms and shoved a mike in her face. Sienna recognized the reporter from one of the major news channels. “Ms. Ambrosi, can you tell us if charges have been brought?”

      Shock made Sienna go first hot then cold. “Charges—?”

      “Unless you want a defamations suit,” Constantine interjected smoothly, “I suggest you withdraw those questions. For the record Ambrosi Pearls and The Atraeus Group are engaged in negotiations over a business deal. Roberto Ambrosi’s death has complicated those negotiations. That’s all I’m prepared to say.”

      “Constantine, is this just about business?” The redheaded reporter, who had been maneuvered out of reach by one of the bodyguards, arched a brow, her face vivid and charming. “If a merger of some kind is in the wind, what about a wedding?”

      Constantine hurried Sienna toward a sleek black Audi that had slid to a halt just yards away. “No comment.”

      Lucas climbed out of the driver’s seat and tossed the keys over the hood.

      Constantine plucked the keys out of midair and opened the passenger-side door. When Sienna realized Constantine meant her to get into the car, with him, she stiffened. “I have my own—”

      Constantine leaned close enough that his breath scorched the skin below her ear. “You can come with me or stay. It’s your choice. But if you stay you’re on your own with the media.”

      A shudder of horror swept through her. “I’ll come.”

      “In that case I’m going to need your car keys. One of my security team will collect your car and follow us. When we’re clear of the press, you can have your little sports car back.”

      Suspicion flared. “How do you know I have a sports car?”

      “Believe me, after the last few days there isn’t much I don’t know about you and your family.”

      “Evidently, from the answers you gave the press, you know a lot more than I do.” She dug her keys out of her purse and handed them over. As badly as she resented it, Constantine’s suggestion made sense. If she had to return to the cemetery to pick up the car later on, it was an easy bet she’d run into more reporters and more questions she wasn’t equipped to answer.

      Seconds later she was enclosed in the luxurious interior of the Audi, the tinted windows blocking out the media.

      She reached for her seat belt. By the time she had it fastened, Constantine was accelerating away from the curb. Cool air from the air-conditioning unit flowed over her, raising gooseflesh on her damp skin.

      Nerves strung taut at the intimacy of being enclosed in the cab of the Audi with Constantine, she reached into her purse and found her small traveling box of tissues. Pulling off a handful, she handed them to Constantine.

      His gaze briefly connected with hers. “Grazie.”

      She glanced away, her heart suddenly pounding. Hostilities were, temporarily at least, on hold. “You’re welcome.”

      She pulled off more tissues and began blotting moisture from her face and arms. There was nothing she could do about her hair or her dress, or the fact that the backs of her legs were sticking to the very expensive leather seats.

      She glanced in the rearview mirror. Her small sports car was right behind them, followed by the gleaming dark sedan, which contained the second of Constantine’s bodyguards and his brothers. “I see you still travel with a SWAT team.”

      Constantine smoothly negotiated traffic. “They have their uses.”

      She flashed him a cool look. There was no way she would thank him yet, not when it was clear that Constantine’s presence had attracted the press. Until he had showed up, neither she nor any member of her family had been harassed. She studied the clean line of his profile, the inky crescents of his lashes and the small scar high on one cheekbone. Unbidden, memories flickered—the dark bronze of his skin glowing in the morning light, the habit he’d had of sprawling across her bed, sheets twined around his hips, all long limbs and sleek muscle.

      Hot color flooded her cheeks. Hastily she transferred her gaze to the traffic flowing around them. “Now that we’re alone you can tell me what that media assault was all about.” The very fact that Constantine had interceded on her behalf meant something was very wrong. “Conned? Charges? And what was that about negotiating a deal?”

      With her background in commercial law, Sienna was Ambrosi Pearls’ legal counsel. At no point in the past two years had her father so much as mentioned The Atraeus Group, or any financial dealings. After the loan Roberto had tried to negotiate had fallen through, along with her engagement, the subject had literally been taboo.

      Constantine braked for a set of lights. “There is a problem, but I’m not prepared to discuss it while I’m driving.”

      While they waited in traffic her frustration mounted. “If you won’t discuss it …” her fingers sketched quotation marks in the air, “then at least tell me why, if Ambrosi Pearls is supposed to have done something so wrong, you’re helping me instead of throwing me to the media wolves?”

      “In an instant replay of the way I treated you two years ago?”

      The silky edge to his voice made her tense. “Yes.”

      The lights turned green. Constantine accelerated through the intersection. “Because you’re in shock, and you’ve just lost your father.”

      Something about the calmness of his manner sent a prickle of unease down her spine, sharpened all of her senses.

      His ruthless business reputation aside, Constantine was known to be a philanthropist with a compassionate streak. He frequently gave massive sums to charities, but that compassion had never been directed toward either her or her family.

      “I don’t believe you. There’s something else going on.” During the short conversation during which he had broken their engagement, Sienna had tried to make him understand the complications of her father’s skyrocketing gambling debts and the struggle she had simply to support her mother and keep Ambrosi Pearls afloat. That in the few stressful days she’d had before Constantine had discovered the deal, the logic of her father asking Lorenzo Atraeus for a loan had seemed viable.

      She had wasted her breath.

      Constantine had been too busy walking out the door to listen to the painful details of her family’s financial struggle.

      “As you heard from