Sienna disappeared through the door with a swirl of yellow silk, leaving Nico faintly stunned when he realised that she was leaving him—again.
A memory flashed into his mind of when he had watched her walk out of the gates of Sethbury Hall eight years ago. She had carried a small suitcase containing the few chain-store clothes that were all she’d owned when she had married him. He had found all the designer dresses that he’d bought her hanging in the wardrobe, and she had also left behind the jewellery he’d given her, including her wedding ring.
As he’d watched her slender figure march down the driveway, her back ramrod straight, he had told himself he was glad she was leaving. Lying bitch. Her accusation that he had been unfaithful was all the more galling because he knew the truth about her. She was the cheat, the one who had kept secrets. Dio, he had trusted her, but after what his brother had told him, Nico had vowed that he would never again believe a word Sienna said.
His jaw clenched. He had never revealed to Sienna that he knew she had slept with his brother first, before him. Danny had admitted it when Nico had confided two years after his wedding that the marriage was in trouble. When Sienna had suffered a late miscarriage she had been advised to wait a few months before trying to conceive again. Nico hadn’t told Danny or anyone else that after he and Sienna had tried unsuccessfully for a year to have another baby, he had done a home test, which showed he had a low sperm count.
Danny’s confession had eaten away at Nico, and the suspicion that Sienna had been pregnant with his brother’s child when he’d married her had festered like something rank and rotten in his soul. Sienna’s accusation that he was having an affair with his PA had been the final straw. Her hypocrisy had infuriated him and divorce had been a way out of a marriage based on lies. He had set her free so that she could meet someone else who would give her a child—which he was unable to do.
He pulled his mind away from the past when he heard the click of her heels on the marble stairs and pictured her in her sexy, yellow silk dress. Ten years ago she had been a pretty teenage bride with no idea of her potential to be a stunning beauty in the future. The grown-up Sienna had exceeded all his expectations, he brooded. She was a ravishing, sensual siren and ever since he had caught sight of her in the church, desire had pulsed hot and urgent in his blood.
The sensible thing to do would be to let her walk out of his life as he had done once before. But he had never been able to forget her, and seeing her again had evoked an unexpected sense of regret that he had lost her. At the very least, he was curious to know why she had turned up in Much Matcham having read in the paper that he was getting married. Her excuse that Iris had told her grandmother Rose it was Danny’s wedding was patently another lie.
Immediately after the divorce he had hated her, but now he was merely indifferent to Sienna’s wiles, Nico assured himself. He grimaced as the ache in his groin reminded him that his body was not as uninvolved as he’d like. But he wasn’t a young man at the mercy of his hormones any more. He was older, hopefully wiser, and he had learned not to mistake lust for a deeper emotion. Undoubtedly he could handle his inconvenient attraction to his ex-wife.
‘Nonna will be disappointed if you leave,’ he called after her as he strode onto the landing and leaned over the banister rail. ‘Especially as she clearly went to some lengths to make sure you came back to the house for the reception.’
Sienna paused on her way down the stairs and looked up at him. ‘Emotional blackmail won’t work with me. You allowed Iris to think there is something going on between us but you’ll have to tell her the truth.’
‘Oh, I’m all for the truth, cara,’ he murmured, walking swiftly down the stairs to join her on the half-landing. ‘And the truth is we both still feel the wildfire attraction that burned between us a decade ago.’ He felt a tremor run through her and saw hunger in her eyes before her lashes swept down and concealed her thoughts. Triumph surged through Nico, threatening the self-control he had been so confident would not waver.
‘I had only left school a month before we met. What chance did I stand?’ she demanded in a bitter voice. ‘You were six years older than me and already worldly and experienced. In contrast I was painfully innocent but you soon changed that, didn’t you, Nico? You were used to having whatever you wanted and it was my misfortune that you decided you wanted me.’
Misfortune? He had married her, hadn’t he? He gritted his teeth. ‘I don’t remember hearing you complain, cara. But I do remember the moans you made when I kissed your breasts. Please, Nico, take me now,’ he mocked, his satisfaction mixed with a stab of shame when fiery colour winged along her high cheekbones and hurt flashed in her eyes.
‘You always were an arrogant bastard.’ She pushed her hair back over her shoulders and he inhaled the scent of vanilla. Her foot was poised over the lower stair. ‘This is a pointless conversation. No good ever comes from digging up the past. Goodbye, Nico.’
‘Stay.’ The word burst from him, harsher than he’d intended, but then he hadn’t intended to plead with her. She stared at him, looking as shocked as he felt. She was so beautiful. He could look at her for ever and never grow tired of her delicate features. That sexy mouth of hers was a little too wide and all the more perfect for it, and her eyes were the colour of storm clouds. ‘Please,’ he said roughly.
She swallowed and the convulsive movement of her throat betrayed emotions that he sensed she was desperate to hide. ‘I...’ She did that flippy thing with her hair again, running her fingers through the layers and making him want to touch the silken strands of rich burgundy. ‘Why do you want me to stay for the reception?’ she asked huskily.
He shrugged to hide the fact that he was asking himself the same question. ‘You said you’ve changed in the years since we were divorced and so have I. We are not the people we were then, but the attraction we both feel is as strong as when we first met.’
Her tongue darted across her lips. ‘I don’t know what you want,’ she said in a low tone.
What he wanted was to whisk her back to his bedroom so that they could spend the rest of the afternoon in bed. And if she carried on looking at him with eyes that had turned smoky and held a gleam of sensual promise, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. ‘I’d like to get to know the grown-up Sienna Fisher,’ Nico told her, startled to discover it was the truth.
* * *
Sienna looked around the huge marquee, which was decorated with extravagant floral displays, and sighed when Nico’s grandmother gave her a friendly wave from across the room.
‘My angina pump spray was in my handbag all the time. I don’t know how I missed it,’ she’d explained when Sienna had asked before they sat down to dinner if she was feeling better. ‘I’m glad you decided to stay for the reception after all. It’s good to see you and Nico getting on so well,’ Iris had added pointedly.
She must be mad to have agreed to stay, Sienna thought. If Iris told Grandma Rose that she had returned to Sethbury Hall as Nico’s guest, she would have some explaining to do. Nico had said that four hundred guests had been invited to the wedding. There was no top table and everyone, including the bride and groom, had sat at individual tables when the five-course meal was served by an army of white-jacketed waiters.
The food had looked exquisite but she’d been so conscious of Nico sitting beside her that she had barely tasted what she was eating. Now that the meal was over and the toasts and speeches were finished, the band had started playing and people were already on the dance floor.
Nico was talking to one of his relatives sitting on the other side of him and Sienna studied him covertly from beneath her lashes while she sipped her champagne. It was unfair that he was so indecently sexy, she brooded. His mother had been regarded as one of the great beauties of her generation. Like his grandfather before him, Nico’s patrician