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Sienna blushed in recollection, but her smile remained elusive, her heart skidding again as a different issue interrupted her happiness.
Another thing that would’ve made her birthday perfect was Emiliano’s presence. Or, barring that, a simple phone call.
All she’d received was an email wishing her happy birthday and a single line to say he was aboard his plane, flying back home from Argentina. Although she’d been relieved that the unexpected extension of his overseas trip by four more days was finally over, she’d yearned to hear his voice. So much so, she’d called him straight back the moment she’d got home, only to have her call go to voicemail. Same as most of her calls the last three days. The one time he’d picked up, he’d been brusque to the point of monosyllabic.
She curbed the tiny spurt of anxiety and pulled on her underwear before sliding on the dress she’d shopped for for hours before discovering it in a tiny shop in Soho. The blood-red sleeveless gown showed off the slight tan she’d gained from their recent weekend away in St Tropez. Fastening her new necklace and earrings, she brushed out her shoulder-length black hair and stepped into black stilettos. The added height would be nowhere near Emiliano’s six-foot-three-inch frame, but the confidence boost was nevertheless welcome.
Exhaling, she pushed away the insidious voice that wouldn’t remain silent, reminding her that everything in her life—bar her career—thus far, had been ripped from her. That what she had with Emiliano would follow suit. After adding the finishing touches of perfume, clutch and wrap, she headed for the door.
She didn’t want to, but Sienna couldn’t stop the nerves that assailed her, or the equal amounts of excitement and dread that fluttered through her stomach at the notion of going out in public with Emiliano tonight. Even though they’d never resolved their argument, he’d grown increasingly possessive of her in public recently, his bold caresses almost baiting her to protest. Unwilling to provoke another disagreement, she hadn’t, and in her quiet moments even admitted to enjoying those displays. Nevertheless, the butterflies in her stomach grew, their wings beating so loud she almost missed her phone buzzing with a text message.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Emiliano’s name on her screen.
Slight change of plan. We’ll dine at home. Restaurant delivery is taken care of. Let me know if that suits? E.
Her smile burst forth anew, her heart squeezing with happiness as she quickly answered.
That more than suits. Can’t wait to see you! XXX
Hitting Send, she stared at the little faint bubble that said her message was being read. Then waited. He didn’t answer.
Swallowing, she returned her phone to the clutch and left the bedroom.
The restaurant they were supposed to dine at was a mere two miles away from the Knightsbridge penthouse she shared with Emiliano. And, if Emiliano had already contacted her favourite chef, then the meal was most likely already on its way.
She walked down the stunningly decorated hallway and through the vast sitting room to find Alfie, their young live-in butler, setting the table in the dining room.
He looked up and smiled when he saw her. ‘Good evening, miss.’
She returned his smile and nodded at the table. ‘Looks like Emiliano has given you the heads-up on the change of plan?’
‘Indeed. He’s also given me the night off,’ he replied with a grin. ‘I’ll just wait for the delivery to arrive then I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy your birthday.’
She fought the blush that threatened, recalling the butler’s wry comment months ago about how he’d become the grateful recipient of many sudden nights off since she’d moved in with Emiliano. ‘Thanks.’
Alfie nodded and went back to laying the table. Not wishing to intrude, she drifted back into the living room. Decorated with luxury and deep comfort in mind, the slate-coloured sofas, matching tables and the white walls were interspersed with dark-gold throw pillows and rugs that added welcoming warmth to the large room. A dominating fireplace was aglow to complement the November autumnal weather.
Sienna strolled to the mantel, picked up the single picture adorning it and stared down at the selfie she’d taken of herself and Emiliano three months ago. It had been a rare moment of throwing caution to the wind and all the more special for it. On a late-afternoon stroll in the park across from the penthouse, after a morning and afternoon spent making love, she’d confessed to sadness at not having photographic mementos of a childhood spent in foster care, no matter how wretched. Emiliano had insisted she seize the moment to make a memory. And, even though he’d refused to look into the camera, his years of avoiding the glare of the paparazzi’s lens deeply ingrained, he’d posed for the picture. The end result was Emiliano staring at her while she looked into the camera, flushed and self-conscious from his brazenly hungry scrutiny.
He’d taken a look at the photo, pronounced himself satisfied and promptly printed and framed it for the mantel.
Sienna stared at the profile of the man who commanded her days and nights, the boss who’d changed his own company’s rules, despite her many blithely ignored protests, in order to date her. Her heart skipped another beat, and with it the secret wish lurking in her heart.
Emiliano Castillo had done more than amend his company’s rules. He’d gone on to trigger a few more firsts, as she’d found out in the months following the start of their relationship. For a start, he hadn’t been one for relationships. Certainly not one with a vice-president of his venture capitalist firm. Most of his liaisons only lasted a couple of months. He’d also never lived with a lover. And he’d certainly never lived with one for going on six months!
Which was why Sienna was daring to believe that theirs was more than a supercharged physical affair. It was why she’d found herself hoping for more. They had never talked about a family, largely because the subject had been strictly off-limits for both of them, save for unavoidable instances that filtered through their lives.
As far as she knew, his relationship with his parents was strained at best, but she’d seen his devastation when his brother had been seriously injured in a car accident four months ago. And, with each trip she’d accompanied him on to the state-of-the-art medical facility in Switzerland where Matias was being cared for after his brain surgery had left him in a coma, she’d witnessed Emiliano’s distress and sadness.
Hers was a different story. She had no past to discuss, so she never did.
The desolation she’d learned to live with overpowered her for a single moment before she pushed it back into its designated box. Today was her birthday. She was lucky she had a date to celebrate. But she’d also worked hard to make a life for herself, and she was determined it wouldn’t fall victim to rejection and heartache.
So celebrate she would.
She returned the picture to the mantel in time to hear the penthouse door’s electronic lock disengage.
Expecting it to be Alfie, taking delivery of their food, her heart leapt into her throat when Emiliano walked in.
He was supposed to have been gone for two days. He’d been gone for six. She hadn’t comprehended just how much she’d missed him until he handed over the food boxes to Alfie and walked tall and proud into the living room. A rush of longing and happiness overtook her as her gaze met his.
At six foot three, with a powerful but streamlined physique, Emiliano Castillo gave the term ‘tall, dark and handsome’ full, visceral meaning. But he also carried an extra edge that ensured that heads, and hearts, turned whenever he graced humanity with his presence. His wasn’t a flawless face, to start with. A scar sustained along his right jawline from a horse-riding accident as a teenager evoked a sense of illicit danger, if you just looked at him. Bold slants of jet eyebrows over brooding, dark, coppery eyes and a full and sensual mouth sculpted for long, steamy lovemaking nights made him very difficult to look away from.
So she stared, transfixed, heart slamming against her ribs, as he walked slowly towards her. He stopped several feet from where she stood. Electricity crackled through the air as they stared at one another. Then slowly, his eyes traced her body from head to toe, lingering, possessing, and back again.
Expecting him to stride forward and sweep her into his arms in that overwhelmingly possessive and blatantly male way he employed, she braced herself, her every sense leaping with excitement.
But he remained where he stood.
‘Happy birthday, querida. You look exquisite.’ His voice was deep, laced with the Spanish intonation he carried proudly. But the words, despite being felicitous and complimentary, were a touch grave. As were the hands he shoved deep into his pockets instead of using them to reach for her as he normally did when they’d been apart this long.
Her heart skittered, but Sienna pushed away the fizzle of anxiety. ‘Thank you. It’s great to have you back,’ she replied, with her tongue lightly slicking lips gone nervous and dry.
His eyelids descended for a moment, then his head tilted slightly, dark eyes resting on her, seeming to absorb her every expression. ‘Have you had a good day?’ he asked.
The reminder of how her day had gone brought a smile. His breath seemed to catch as her smile widened. ‘It was wonderful, Emiliano. I’m not sure how you planned everything without my knowledge but I loved every second of it. Thank you so much for these...’ She caressed her necklace and earrings. ‘I should be angry with you for forcing me to field questions, though.’ She deliberately infused lightness into her tone, but her reluctance to incite another row didn’t mean she was damping down what was important to her.
‘No doubt you found your usual diplomatic way to deny my existence despite it being an open secret,’ he returned with a distinct edge to his tone.
Sienna’s breath snagged in her lungs. Yes, the subject was definitely still a sore one. But one she intended to tackle soon. Maybe tonight...
‘I’ve never denied your existence. Merely not fuelled workplace gossip. There’s a difference.’
His upper lip curled slightly, his jaw flexing a touch. ‘If you say so.’
She floundered for a moment, the ground beneath her feet shaking a little. Was her continued denial of their relationship outside the privacy of their penthouse causing more damage than she realised?
Inhaling deeply, she widened her smile.
‘I do say so. And it would’ve been perfect if you’d been here, regardless of who knows about us.’ Sienna knew she was offering a tentative olive branch, while subtly digging for answers to questions she wasn’t completely certain were wise to pursue, but the worry that had taken root between her ribs was growing by the second.
‘I’m sorry. The situation couldn’t be helped.’
She wasn’t surprised at the slightly cryptic answer. The enigma that was Emiliano Castillo operated at optimum capacity, always. She’d learned the hard way that to gain his attention she had to meet her lover and boss toe to toe. It was what had brought her to his attention in the boardroom. It was why their chemistry remained sizzling hot in the bedroom. A chemistry that had stunned and bewildered her in the beginning and continued to overawe her even now. It was the reason she checked herself now from leaving the safety of the mantel to close the seemingly yawning distance between them, even though every muscle strained to be in his arms.
Denying herself the pleasure, she remained where she was, sensing the deep, puzzling tension within him as a muscle jumped in his shadowed cheek. But even from a distance she experienced the jolt of electricity that lanced through her when his eyes remained fixed on hers. ‘You didn’t elaborate on what was going on. Is it Matias?’ she asked.
A shadow drifted over his face. ‘In a way, yes.’
‘Is he okay? Has there been any improve—’
‘His condition remains unchanged,’ he interrupted.
Her gaze dropped, drifting over his lower lip. He inhaled sharply, gratifying her with his reaction. But his hands remained in his pockets.
‘So you spent all six days with your parents?’
Another clench of his jaw. ‘Sí.’ The word was chillingly grave.
Her heart dropped. ‘Emiliano... I... Is everything okay?’
He finally breached the gap between them and grasped her hand in his. Lowering their linked hands, he stared at her upturned palm for several seconds before he released her. ‘No, everything is not okay, but it’s nothing that won’t resolve itself eventually.’
She opened her mouth and started to demand more information. But he’d turned away.
‘Come, the food will be getting cold.’
She followed him into the dining room and pinned the smile on her face as he held her chair and saw her seated. Again she anticipated his touch on her bare shoulders, a drift of his sensual mouth across her temple. She received neither.
She watched him take his own seat, the neutrality of his expression underlined with a grimness that lodged a cold stone in her stomach.
‘Emiliano...’
‘I belayed ordering oysters. I didn’t want them to be ruined in transit. We’ll have your second favourite.’
She waved him away as he opened the first of the specially packed gourmet dishes. ‘It’s fine. I don’t care about the food. We can have oysters some other time.’ Her blush at the mention of oysters and the special significance they held for them was suppressed beneath the blooming disquiet. Even then she couldn’t help but be disturbed that he’d made the order without speaking to her first. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
His firm mouth thinned for a split second and the eyes that met hers were closed off, bordering on cold. ‘Querida, I don’t wish to upset your birthday celebration.’
She frowned. ‘Why would telling me how your trip went ruin my birthday? What happened?’ she pressed.
His gaze swept away from hers, back to the dish in his hand. Shutting her out. ‘My parents happened.’ He looked up, tawny-gold eyes piercing her. ‘And since they come under the numerous subjects we don’t discuss, perhaps we can drop it?’ he drawled.
The statement hurt a little, but Sienna couldn’t deny that it was accurate. There were swathes of their private lives they avoided, their common threads of familiarity were business and the bedroom. Again she experienced the ominous sense of shifting sands, prompting her to go against her better judgment.
‘Maybe...this one time we can make an exception? And, before you bite my head off, I only request it because I can see that whatever happened is affecting you, Emiliano.’
‘You are kind, querida, but I would also caution you against making those sorts of statements. There are some things you can’t take back. Besides, I believe you’re exaggerating things a little.’ He dished the seafood salad starter onto her plate, served himself and poured them both glasses of chilled white wine.
‘You think I’m exaggerating things?’ She hated herself for the tiny catch in her voice and the needy words that spilled in the bid to make her point. ‘Then why haven’t you kissed me since you walked in the door? Usually, you can’t keep your hands off me, yet you haven’t so much as touched me. And, if you clench your jaw any tighter, it’ll snap.’
‘I’ve told you, you look breathtaking. I’ve wished you happy birthday. I showered you with presents all day, even in my absence. Perhaps I’m saving the rest for later. I know how much you love the anticipation,’ he drawled before he raised his glass to her and took a large gulp.
Sienna caught a glimpse of the banked desire in his eyes. Her heart resumed its erratic thumping, but she couldn’t dismiss the other, more terrifying feeling residing beneath her breast. Because there was something else lurking in his eyes. Something cold, bracing and soul threatening.
‘Six days of anticipation is more than enough. “One day is too long.” Isn’t that what you said last month when you returned from that two-day business summit in Athens?’ That she had to remind him of that was even more shocking, the unusual recounting of gestures received but never spoken about making her reel.
‘Careful, Sienna, or you’ll have me thinking these declarations you’ve previously led me to believe are over the top are in fact secretly yearned for.’
A flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks but she didn’t drop her gaze. ‘As I said, perhaps I wish to make an exception.’
His shrug was almost...bored. ‘There is no need. I’ve had a long and turbulent flight, amante. Right now, I want to relax and see you sated with food. Is that too much to ask?’ His voice held a definite bite. A warning to leave well enough alone.
She shook her head, convinced more than ever that something was seriously wrong. ‘Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I...I want to help.’ Throwing caution to the wind, she abandoned her glass and, in a first move that made her insides quake, she initiated touch by placing her hand over his.
He tensed, his nostrils flaring as he gazed down at her hand.
Then he removed his hand from under hers.
Her heart stopped as another thought sliced through her mind.
‘Emiliano? Is it me?’
The eyes that held hers were completely devoid of emotion. ‘Sienna, leave this alone...’
‘Oh, God, are you annoyed with me for finalising the Younger deal without you?’
‘What?’
‘You gave me carte blanche, remember? You said I should go ahead and offer whatever we needed to land the deal. And that’s what I did. I know it was another five million more than we initially agreed, but I did the figures and judged that it was worth it.’
His brow clamped in a frown as he yanked his tie loose with his free hand. ‘Santo cielo, not everything is about business—’ He ruthlessly checked himself and drew in a breath. ‘Rest assured, I’m not annoyed with you about the deal. Without your quick thinking and acting, we’d have lost it. I believe I had Denise send you an email commending you for it today.’
She’d seen the email from his executive assistant, and again wondered why Emiliano hadn’t contacted her himself. ‘Okay, but—’
‘You want further commendations from me? More flowers? More accolades on top of the presents you’ve already received? Is that what this show of neediness is about?’
Shock and anger scythed equal swathes of pain through her. ‘Excuse me?’ Despite having called herself the same only minutes ago, the label stung badly.
He drained his glass and set it down with more force than necessary. Charging to his feet, he rounded the table. His impressive height and bristling demeanour would’ve made a lesser woman cower. Hell, she’d seen grown men wither beneath the look displayed on his face now.
But she’d never been one of them.
Surging to her feet, she faced him, their untouched food abandoned. ‘Did you just call me needy?’
‘Am I wrong? Now that we’re behind closed doors, where your precious reputation isn’t at risk, do you not need something from me? Have you not been full of needful words since I walked in the door?’ he accused.
‘Don’t twist my words. I just want to talk to you, find out what’s—’
‘I don’t want to talk, querida. You’re usually adept at picking up simple cues like that. Has my absence affected you that much, or is there another agenda going on here?’ he taunted.
The tightly furled subject she’d tentatively intended to broach with him tonight knotted harder, congealing into stone that chafed against her heart. Incisive eyes dragged over her face, probing her expression and then widening upon witnessing the evidence she couldn’t quite disguise.
‘Sí, another agenda,’ he bit out. ‘Do I get three guesses or shall I strike for gold and deduce that you’re breaking your unique mould to broach the predictable “where do we go from here?” conversation women feel the need to have at the most inappropriate times?’
Sienna wasn’t sure whether it was his uncanny acuity or the abrasive tone that alarmed her more. ‘You’re turning this around on me, Emiliano. We were talking about you.’
‘A subject I’ve clearly expressed my abhorrence for. Now, are we to go around in circles, or are we going to eat?’
She lifted her chin, the distress and foreboding she’d staunched so fiercely blooming into life within her chest. ‘I’ve lost my appetite.’
He took another dangerous step closer, swallowing the gap between them, extinguishing the very air that sustained them until only pure, sizzling electricity remained. Soot-coloured lashes swept down and paused, the heat in his eyes branding her mouth for endless seconds before his gaze rose again.
‘For food? Or for everything else?’ His voice was thicker. Deeper. His nostrils flared in blatant, carnal hunger.
‘Why are you so angry with me?’ she whispered, unable to stem the dread crawling over her skin.
An enigmatic expression blanketed his face for a blind second, his eyes blazing with a light she couldn’t fathom. ‘Perhaps I’m tired of being compartmentalised in your life, of being put on a shelf and taken down and dusted off only when your needs get the better of you.’
She gasped. ‘What? I’ve never—’
The firm finger that drifted over her lower lip stemmed her answer. ‘I wish to get off this merry-go-round. So I ask you again, what have you lost your appetite for?’
Lust, need, anger and hurt strangled her in equal measures. With a few pithy words, he’d reduced her to a needy female eager to sink her talons into a man she wanted to possess. With one label, he’d reminded her of the one thing she’d vowed never to be again.
Dependent.
They’d had disagreements before, but nothing like this. Sienna couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t stem the hurt that flowed like a bloodied wound. But with each second that passed, with each intake of his breath and exhalation of hers, a different emotion surged forth. Familiar. Overwhelming. Devastating.
A deep tremble seized her, shaking her from head to toe. He saw her reaction and triumph coated his features, his eyes darkening as he watched. Waited.
‘Emiliano...’
‘Sí, Sienna?’ he whispered against her mouth, but holding himself a breath away, taunting her with his proximity.
Her breath shook out. ‘Something’s going on. Don’t make me think I’m crazy or that I’m overreacting. Please, just tell me—’
‘Stop. You know better than to push a closed subject. You’re an expert on closed subjects, after all. So do not let tonight be the moment you change your tune, querida, hmm?’
Another bolt of shock went through her. Her gaze collided with his. The hunger was still there, but everything else was just...wrong. ‘Who are you? Why are you speaking to me this way?’
‘You’re the one who insists on incessant discourse,’ he bit out at her.
‘You don’t want me to talk? Fine!’ She grabbed his tie and pulled it free. One vicious twist of her wrist sent it flying across the polished table. Then she attacked his shirt. Buttons turned into tiny missiles launched across the room, the depth of unbelievable hurt and lust tearing through her and making her irrational.
Her actions felt surreal, an out-of-body experience that sent shockwaves through her other self, the one observing what she was doing from a safe distance.
The live, breathing one initiating hot-headed moves swallowed hard at the first sight of Emiliano’s tanned, chiselled chest and gave a helpless groan, her body weakening and surging with desire at the same time.
Emiliano’s breath hissed out when she reached for his belt buckle. ‘Querida—’
‘No! If I don’t get to talk, neither do you,’ she insisted, probably because she was terrified that talking now would force her to think about what she was doing, and the possible reason behind Emiliano’s behaviour. Which was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. Not in this instance. Not when a mere hour ago she’d felt on top of the world.