- -
- 100%
- +
“When I was young, yes,” Nick said.
Siena stopped herself from casting him a swift look. Although his tone was perfectly pleasant she detected an edge to it she hadn’t heard before.
He finished, “However, it’s been some time since I thought of either Siena or her twin as sisters.”
“And I’m sure neither of them ever thought of you as a brother.” Portia’s voice had lowered and she smiled at him.
It wasn’t exactly a possessive smile, nor an openly desirous one, but there was a proprietorial gleam mixed with the feminine appreciation. And it cut through Siena’s composure like a sword.
What’s happening to me? she thought worriedly.
Not that she blamed Nick’s lover. Several inches taller than the blonde woman, his black head gleaming in the lights, Nick radiated the cool, leashed assurance Siena always associated with him—as though he could take on the world and win.
Which was exactly what he had done—and on his own terms.
He looked at Siena, his eyes hooded. “Both Siena and her sister considered me an intruder.”
Lighten up, Siena told herself. It took an effort to produce a soft laugh. “Especially when you tried to teach us chess.”
His grin flashed white. “I was endeavouring not to remember that.”
“I’m sure you were an excellent teacher,” Portia said a little abruptly, as though somehow Siena had cast aspersions on his intelligence.
“Siena beat me,” he told her.
“Because you let me,” Siena objected.
She recognised the smile he gave her—amused yet tinged with cynicism. “For the first half of the game, yes,” he conceded. “After that I was desperately trying to regain ground.”
Portia produced a tinkling little laugh. “And was your sister a prodigy too?”
Nick said, “Gemma was definitely not into board games.”
He glanced up as Siena’s parents returned, their arrival followed by a flurry of congratulations. In answer to a glance from Nick a waiter glided up to take his order for more champagne, and while that lasted they all made conversation.
Eventually he and Portia went back to their table out of sight. Strung tense as taut wire, Siena forced herself to lean back in her chair and look around the room.
“How lovely to see Nick again,” Diane said once they were safely out of earshot. “He was such a tightly buttoned boy I used to worry about him, but things have worked out so well for him.” She patted her husband fondly on the arm. “Thanks in no small measure to you, Hugh.”
“He’d have got there by himself,” Hugh said confidently. “What we did for him, I think, was to show him what a happy household was like.”
Surprised, Siena said, “Do you think so? I wouldn’t have thought he’d seen enough of us to do that. From what I remember he spent most of his time doing boy things with you.”
Hugh shook his head. “Oh, he knew. Nick’s always been extremely astute. When his parents’ marriage ended his father was awarded custody at first, then somehow his mother regained it. Shortly after that the father died. I thought it was interesting that Nick never spoke of him.”
Diane said quietly, “He did—once—to me. In a chilling, very adult way. He told me he’d never allow himself to be like his father. I wondered if his father had beaten him, but he didn’t react like a child who feared physical harm.”
Siena was horrified. Her comment to Nick about family dynamics couldn’t have been more unfortunate. “Do you think he beat Nick’s mother?”
“Possibly,” Diane said.
Shocked, Siena tried to reconcile this new information with what she knew of Nick. Somehow—by osmosis, perhaps—she’d absorbed knowledge that his family hadn’t been a happy one, but her parents had never discussed him and she’d had no idea his childhood had been traumatic.
Had that trauma something to do with the shattering end to their—their what? Romance?
Hardly. Although she’d prayed it might become one. Ever hopeful at nineteen, she thought grimly. Not a romance and neither had it been an affair, because that implied something more important than several weeks of flirtation followed by one night together.
One-night stand she refused to accept. It had been—at least on her side—more than that. She’d been so sure she was in love with him.
Interlude, she decided.
Yes, that fitted the situation perfectly—reduced it to insignificance.
Her mother broke into her thoughts with an inconsequential remark. “It’s time Nick got married. He was—what?—thirty in October?”
“In November,” her husband informed her.
It figured, Siena thought—Scorpio to the core, she’d bet. Dark and dominant, controlling a passionate nature with a will of steel. Her skin tingled as she remembered.
Diane paused before saying, “I hope Portia isn’t what he has in mind.”
Siena could only agree. The woman seemed cold—cold to the core.
However, she said lightly, “I’m sure you can leave it to Nick to choose the right woman for him. Now, are you two going to dance again?”
“I’m not—not right now, anyway. But you are,” her mother said briskly. “I’m going to repair my lipstick in the wonderful cloakroom they have here, so you two can enjoy this one.”
The evening progressed very pleasantly; carefully keeping her gaze well away from the foliage that hid Nick and his lover, Siena watched her parents take the floor. She danced with her father again, and her parents told her all about their short tour.
She despised herself for noticing that Nick and his Portia didn’t dance.
Eventually Hugh noticed her hide a yawn. “You must be jet-lagged. I wish you could have found a room in this hotel.”
“Dad, I couldn’t afford to sleep in the boot cupboard here. I’m so glad you decided to splurge all the way with this trip.”
Her parents laughed. “This is the only night we’re spending here,” Diane admitted.
Siena said easily, “Enjoy it! My hotel might not be anywhere near as opulent as this, but it’s perfectly comfortable.” She got to her feet and gave her father a quick hug. “I’m only going to be there tonight and tomorrow night—I’m staying in Cornwall with Louise until the end of the week, and then I’m heading home.”
“Such extravagance,” her mother said fondly, hugged in her turn. “But it was so lovely to see you—a wonderful surprise! I just wish you could come with us on this cruise.”
“Don’t be silly—you don’t want anyone else on your second honeymoon.” Siena grinned. As yet her parents didn’t know she’d thrown in her job, and by the time they got back she fully intended to have a new position. “Enjoy it to the full, and I’ll see you in a month!”
“I’ll come down and see you into a taxi,” her father stated firmly.
Siena hid a smile. Like Nick, her father was innately protective, and she wasn’t surprised when her mother immediately decided to accompany them.
Unfortunately Nick and his girlfriend chose that time to leave, and Nick’s offer to take her back to her hotel put her in an awkward position.
“No, thanks, I’ll be fine,” she said, wondering if the icy chill coming in waves from Portia’s direction was real or merely a figment of her too-active imagination. Whatever the other woman had planned for the rest of the evening, it most definitely didn’t involve giving Siena a lift anywhere. And Siena definitely didn’t want to play gooseberry.
So she said firmly, “Thank you for thinking of it, but it’s not necessary. What on earth could happen to me in a London taxi?”
Nick shrugged. “Where’s your hotel?”
When she told him he said, “It’s on our way.” He nodded at the hotel forecourt. “And there’s the car.”
He travelled in style. If Portia hadn’t been standing frostily by, Siena might have teased him about the large, discreet limousine and uniformed driver that waited for them.
Once she’d have done just that, but Nick now was different from the boy she’d known, the man who had shown her just how intensely wonderful passion could be.
And then left her.
“Nick, dear, that’s wonderful of you,” her mother interposed. She smiled at Portia. “So kind.”
Siena knew when she was beaten. So did Portia, who sketched a thin smile in response.
Fortunately Siena’s hotel was a mere five minutes’ drive away. She could be polite for that long—and so, she learned, could Nick’s lover.
But the atmosphere was not conducive to small talk, and she was glad to get out. “Thanks so much,” she said firmly, hoping Nick would take the hint. “Goodnight.”
However, he escorted her to the hotel door. “What are you doing after your parents leave?” he asked.
“I’m sightseeing tomorrow, and the next day I’ll take the train to Cornwall to stay with an old schoolfriend for a few days,” she said, oddly discomposed.
“When did you become engaged?”
The abrupt change of subject startled her into looking up. “Several months ago.”
His brows met above the arrogant blade of his nose. “No one told me.”
Siena blinked. It sounded like an accusation, but before she could respond, he went on, “Is this Adrian anyone I know?”
“Adrian Worth. His family have a station in the South Island high country.” Old money, and a lovely set of relatives. And a very nice, honourable man.
“The name sounds familiar,” he said, and left it at that. With a cool smile he nodded and bent his head. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her?
He did, a swift peck on her cheek, dropped in place only to be immediately forgotten, she thought, her heart thudding unevenly in her ears when he straightened. “Sleep well,” he said.
Siena couldn’t control a startled blink. Nick’s narrow smile was something. Somehow it roused an excitement she didn’t even want to think about. She felt as though she’d been dipped in champagne.
No, she thought cynically, not champagne. The very best brandy—dangerous, delicious and far too potent …
“Goodnight,” she managed, and crossed the lobby, feeling the impact of his gaze between her shoulder-blades.
Through the closing lift doors she saw him turn and go back to the big car and the woman who waited for him.
Presumably they’d end the evening in bed together.
Stop being so prying and intrusive, she thought bleakly while the lift eased to a stop. She had no right whatever to speculate about Nick’s love affairs.
His private life was just that—private.
Or as private as he could make it with paparazzi following him around.
She spent a restless night, tossing in an unfamiliar bed, listening to traffic, wondering why she wasn’t more excited at being in London. Perhaps because at night it was impossible to distinguish between traffic in London and Auckland—a lonely sound in both places.
Eventually she managed to drop off to sleep, only to wake later than she’d planned. A day’s sightseeing lay ahead, so she scurried around and left the hotel, intending to grab breakfast and coffee somewhere on her way.
It was a busy day, one she enjoyed. It was only on her way home that she realised she hadn’t checked her email. Sitting on the top of the double-decker tourist bus, she flicked her phone open and scrolled through, feeling guilty when she saw one from Adrian.
It took her only a moment to read it, a moment in which the noisy buzz of traffic faded into the sound of her heart drumming in her ears.
I’m so sorry. I’m a complete coward for doing this by email, but I don’t know how to tell you I’ve fallen in love with someone else. It’s not your fault, and I feel awful about it, but I can’t help it. Please forgive me. You can’t think any worse of me than I do myself. I wish you every happiness.
And he was hers sincerely, Adrian.
Siena sat in numb, incredulous disbelief, her gaze locked on the screen as Adrian’s words danced crazily on it.
An aching emptiness brought a swift, cold spurt of tears. Shivering, she fought them back, trying to tell herself that it was just as well he’d found out now instead of waiting until after they’d married.
Despite the shock, in her innermost heart she knew she’d been waiting for this day. Somehow she’d sensed this—even though she’d refused to face it—long before she’d left New Zealand. For weeks Adrian had seemed distant and on edge, brushing off her enquiries with reassurances that now rang hollow and false.
Nick had called her bossy, and she probably was, but she’d learned to fight for what she wanted. Her parents had always been meticulously fair, but it hadn’t been exactly easy growing up in the shadow of a twin who’d been a beautiful baby, progressed to become an enchanting child and then a stunning teenager, before finally maturing into a woman so beautiful she’d dazzled every boyfriend Siena had brought home.
Swallowing hard, Siena fought back nausea. She didn’t—refused to—want a man who loved another woman.
So she had to get over this horrible anguish. But first she needed privacy, a few hours alone to deal with her grief. Tomorrow she was heading to Cornwall to stay with her best friend from school, and she would not depress her by moping around.
She clicked off the phone and put it back in her bag, staring resolutely out of the window until she could once more see and hear.
Back at the hotel she fled to her room, eyed the mini-bar, but decided bleakly that a stiff drink was the last thing she needed right now. Opting instead for the familiar solace of a cup of tea, she sat in the uncomfortable chair and forced herself to drink it, trying to achieve some serenity.
None came. Before she’d taken more than a couple of sips she leapt to her feet and, setting her mouth, wrenched off her engagement ring.
No, no longer her ring. The diamond winked and glittered in the palm of her hand, and without volition her fingers closed around the lovely thing. She fought back another sob and thrust it into a zipped pocket in her handbag with a sharp, final movement.
Tomorrow it would be on its way back to Adrian.
The hotel telephone rang, making her jump.
Startled, she stared at it, her heart bumping in her chest. It had to be Louise. Pick it up, Siena!
But it was Nick’s voice that answered her cautious greeting. “Did your parents get off all right?” he said.
“I got a text from Heathrow just before they boarded.” Her voice sounded odd.
“What are your plans for tonight?” Nick asked.
“I haven’t got any,” she said unevenly.
“So you can come out to dinner with me.”
She didn’t know what to say. “No, that’s not possible,” she said, obeying the instinct that warned her to hide away for a few hours.
“Why?” he asked.
She stuttered a few words, then stopped.
Into the silence Nick said with a cool decisiveness she found rather intimidating, “There will be just you and me, Siena. I don’t like to think of you alone in London.”
Say no, it’s all right, Nick, I’m fine. But she knew her voice would wobble.
Nevertheless she tried, swallowing first to ease her dry throat, and Nick demanded sharply, “What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing.” Again her voice betrayed her.
“Siena, I’ll be around straight away.”
“No!”
But he’d already cut the connection, and after a moment she hung up.
That damned protective instinct, she thought, staring wretchedly down at the half-empty teacup.
She couldn’t go out to dinner feeling as though everything that was inside her—heart, passion, laughter and joy—had been scooped out and thrown away, leaving only a shell.
Like Gemma, Nick was accustomed to attention. Even when he’d been a teenager girls had flocked after him, and as he’d grown they’d become more importunate. His meteoric success helped too, she thought with a flash of cynicism.
Once her mother had said with wry amusement, “All it takes is for that green gaze to drift over some woman’s face, and she’s hooked. It’s as though he’s a magnet.”
Last night almost every woman in the restaurant had given him several intrigued glances, many openly admiring, drawn as much by his leashed, potent energy as his boldly handsome face and that compelling aura that subtly signalled his prowess as a lover.
That thought sent a peculiar shiver down her spine. Ignoring it, she reached for the phone, only to pull back her hand when she realised she didn’t know Nick’s number. And after minutes of fruitless searching she realised he wasn’t listed either. She tried his office, only to be told by some smooth-voiced receptionist that he was unavailable.
Balked, Siena got up wearily and looked out of the window onto the street below. It blurred, and she blinked ferociously to clear an onslaught of tears. Perhaps a shower would clear her head.
She made it short, but when she emerged, fully dressed in case Nick had somehow persuaded the reception clerk to give him a key, her cell phone summoned her.
This time it was Louise.
Ten minutes later Siena put down her cell phone, her friend’s strained words still echoing in her ears. “It’s my father-in-law,” she’d said. “He’s had a stroke, and Ivan’s mother’s at her wits’ end with two younger children at home, so we’re going up tomorrow. I’m so sorry, Siena, but it’s impossible for you to stay with us now. But the cottage is here, and we—oh, Siena, I was so looking forward to seeing you …”
Siena had refused the offer of the cottage and done her best to reassure her, but now she stared around the hotel room as though she’d never seen it before.
“What now?” she said aloud, then caught herself up.
No need to feel it was the end of the world. So it had all happened at once, but friends had emergencies and parents went on long-anticipated cruises.
And fiancés fell in love with someone else.
Nobody ever died of a broken heart. Eventually this dull pain would ease.
She dragged in a sharp stabbing breath. She’d organise her return journey to New Zealand, then go down and wait for Nick in the foyer, tell him she couldn’t go out to dinner with him.
She would, she thought tautly, be extremely boring company, and he’d probably only asked her because he knew her parents were leaving and she’d be alone.
In effect, he’d behaved just like the brother he considered himself to be.
Nick saw her as soon as he entered the foyer. She hadn’t noticed him, and something about the way she was sitting made him frown, and quicken his pace. A friend had once described her—patronisingly—as “a taking little thing”. Tiny and black-haired, with eyes so blue they were a startling contrast to her porcelain skin, she certainly looked doll-like—except for her mouth. Lush, sensuously curved, her mouth was a delicious miracle made for smiles—and kisses.
Now it was pinched, and set in a straight line. She was holding herself stiffly, warding off an invisible blow. Nick swore under his breath and increased the length of his stride.
It was impossible to link Siena with the word defeat, but that was how she looked—as though she’d been knocked to the ground so roughly she couldn’t be bothered getting up again. And she certainly wasn’t dressed for dinner.
Her parents …?
“What’s the matter?” he demanded from two strides away.
She blinked as though she didn’t recognise him. Then with a brave attempt at her usual spark she said, “Oh, a couple of things, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Nothing had happened to Hugh and Diane, then. Hiding his relief, he said more moderately, “So tell me.”
The hands in her lap tensed. No ring, he realised.
What the hell—?
She said, “Well, I think I mentioned I was going to stay with a friend in Cornwall, but that’s off.”
Nick listened to her explanation, nodding when she finished. “So what are you going to do?”
Her white teeth dented her curved bottom lip. Nick’s gut tightened in spontaneous appreciation of that succulent mouth. Damn it, asking her out had been a bad idea; he should never have succumbed to the questionable impulse.
Getting to her feet, she said in a rigidly controlled voice, “I’m trying to get a flight back home.”
“And?”
“So far no luck, but I’ll keep at it.” Nick frowned. “So you’ve got a week to spend in London?”
She shook her head. “No.” “Why?”
“Can’t afford it,” she admitted, lifting her chin to give him a direct glance that glittered a challenge. “I have to go home.”
Now was not the time to press her about the absence of her engagement ring. He owed it to her parents to make sure she was all right. “We can discuss your options over dinner. Come on.”
After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head. “I’d really rather not, Nick. I’m not dressed—”
“It’s all right. We’ll eat at my place.”
He saw her waver and felt an odd, irritating triumph when she nodded.
“Very well,” she said quietly, as though too tired to protest further. But once she got up she made a final objection. “Nick, I’m probably not going to be very good company.”
“Why?”
“Oh, nothing important.” Her voice was stronger, more like the Siena he knew.
You’re lying. And you’ll tell me what’s going on before the evening’s out, he thought. The Siena he remembered wouldn’t have let a change in plans affect her like this.
She said, “I’ll go up and get changed. I won’t be any more than ten minutes.”
“You’re fine the way you are,” he told her.
After giving his suit a brief glance she said with a return to her usual tone, “I’ll change.”
Shoulders held very erect, she walked across the foyer towards the lift. Although small, he thought, his loins stirring again, she was in perfect proportion. Well-worn jeans showed off slim, elegantly shaped legs, and the clear pink thing she wore on top marked every curve of breast and hip, and the narrow allure of her waist.
He wasn’t the only one watching her. The receptionist, a boy not long out of his teens, was also following her progress with too much interest. A spurt of anger took Nick by surprise.
He caught the kid’s eye, and was coldly and foolishly pleased when he flushed and with a bobbing Adam’s apple got busy with the computer. Nick transferred his gaze to two other men. Hastily they abandoned their interested survey and disappeared into the bar.
Satisfied, Nick quelled his cold disapproval and waited.
CHAPTER THREE
SIENA eyed her blue dress—a little tired after its outing the previous night, but it was all she had. Nick had somehow managed to overcome her instinctive need to hide away like a wounded animal—aided by her realisation that she’d be better off in his powerful, formidable presence than sitting alone in her hotel room wondering why her only two serious relationships had ended with the men she loved—or thought she loved—leaving her.
That bitter feeling of alienation chilled her. She struggled with the impulse to tear off her clothes and crawl into bed. It wouldn’t work—if she knew one thing about Nick it was that he was determined. One way or another, he’d get her out of her room.
Anyway, self-pity was a loser’s indulgence.
But the prospect of eating anything made her feel sick, a nausea that escalated when the lift started to take her down.
When she saw Nick, darkly dominant and looking more than a little grim, she managed a smile. He didn’t return it. Head held high, she parried his keen scrutiny and a strange alteration to her heartbeat transmuted into racing pulses and a moment of lightness, of keen anticipation.
“I only brought one going-out-to-dinner outfit,” she told him. Heavens, was that her voice—husky and almost hesitant?
Get a grip, she ordered.
“So? You look charming,” he said calmly, and took her arm. “I suppose you travelled with nothing more than hand luggage?”
Rills of sensation ran from his fingers to her spine, spreading out through every cell in a gentle flood. Almost she shivered, and it took a considerable amount of self-control to respond in the easy tone of one old friend to another, “Afraid not. I expected to be here for a week, and as it’s winter on this side of the equator I had to pack warm clothes. I don’t have a home in every capital, with wardrobes full of clothes made specially for me.”