marriage to a handsome Italian playboy Franco De Conti, whose family’s enormous fortune had derived from their exclusive hotel chain, had produced an heir and a spare, Danny had once joked to Sienna. They had been at Sethbury Hall where Nico had organised a tennis tournament with a group of friends. Sienna had been startled by the bitterness in Danny’s voice. She’d told herself she must have imagined that he was jealous of his older sibling. But now, as she looked across the table and saw Danny staring at Nico with an odd expression on his face, she remembered that day all those years ago.
Nico had beaten Danny in a tennis match and Danny had stormed off the court. Later, he’d laughed and told her it was just brotherly rivalry. ‘Nico wins everything, including my girlfriend,’ he’d said. It wasn’t strictly true. She had gone out with Danny a couple of times, but when he had tried to kiss her she’d explained that she just wanted them to be friends. Nico had arrived at Sethbury soon after and she had fallen instantly in love with him.
Sienna’s mind jolted back to the present when Danny leaned across the table. ‘When did you get back with my brother? I’m surprised Nico didn’t mention that he was seeing you again.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to explain that she hadn’t had any contact with Nico since their divorce. But there had been faint suspicion in Danny’s voice, and bizarrely she wanted to protect Nico from embarrassment so she said lightly, ‘Oh, we bumped into each other in London recently and he invited me to the wedding. Nico knew that you and I had been friends, and I was pleased to have the chance to wish you and your new bride a happy marriage.’
‘Come and dance with me for old times’ sake.’ Danny stood up and walked around the table.
Sienna hesitated, unable to explain to herself why she felt reluctant to take his hand. ‘I expect you want to dance with your wife.’
‘Victoria is dancing with her father.’ Danny tugged her out of her chair and led her over to the dance floor. He kept hold of her hand and slid his other arm around her waist. ‘We were good friends when we were younger, weren’t we? Do you remember when a group of us hired a river boat for the day in York and you fell in?’
‘You pushed me in.’
‘Ah, but I jumped in and rescued you, didn’t I?’ Danny went on to recount other stories from their youth, and Sienna was soon laughing at the memories. She had got to know Danny when he had been a regular at her father’s pub where she’d served behind the bar most evenings and weekends, saving up to go to university. Not that her father had paid her much for all the hours she’d worked, but at least while he was being obnoxious to her he had left her mother alone.
Danny De Conti and his public school friends had seemed glamorous and exciting compared to the local boys from the village.
‘Danny’s not bad looking, but his older brother is drop-dead gorgeous,’ the other barmaid, Becky, had told Sienna. ‘Domenico spends much of his time in Italy, but my mum is a cook up at the hall and she heard that he’s coming home next week. By the way, Lady Mandeville is looking for a part-time cleaner and Mum says she’ll put your name forward if you like.’
Which was how, ten years ago, Sienna had been mopping the kitchen floor at Sethbury Hall when Nico had walked in, his riding boots leaving footprints where she had just cleaned. ‘Mi dispiace,’ he’d murmured with barely a glance at her. But then he’d stopped and turned to stare at her, the faint frown between his eyebrows not marring the masculine beauty of his face. ‘Who are you?’
She had been struck dumb; dazzled by the handsome, bronzed god who had materialised in front of her and could not possibly be real. She’d blinked but he had still been there, tall and strong-looking, his exotic appearance emphasised by his golden skin and unexpected brilliant blue eyes. As she’d stared back at him, a slow smile had lifted the corners of his gorgeous mouth and her heart had raced.
‘Perhaps you are not real and that’s why you don’t have a name,’ he’d teased. ‘But if you are real your feet must be wet.’
Confused, she’d glanced down and discovered that the mop was dripping water over her trainers. ‘I’m Sienna,’ she’d blurted out, mortified when he’d run his eyes over her faded jeans and tee shirt. All her clothes had been years old but she hadn’t had money to buy new, fashionable stuff like the other girls she’d known at school. Her tee shirt had been too tight, and because it had been a hot day she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra.
To her horror she had felt her nipples harden, but when she’d hurriedly crossed her arms in front of her she had seen a gleam in Nico’s eyes that had sent a delicious shiver through her. It had been the first time in her life that she’d felt desire, and in that instant she had become aware of her femininity.
‘My name is Domenico, but my friends call me Nico,’ he’d told her.
‘I know, sir.’ She’d suddenly remembered her lowly position and his exalted one. One day he would inherit Sethbury Hall and the title of Viscount Mandeville when his grandfather died.
He had laughed. ‘I very much hope you will call me Nico, Si-enna.’ Even the way he’d said her name had been sexy. ‘You can’t have wet feet for the rest of the day. Take off your shoes and we’ll sit in the garden while they dry. You can tell me why a girl as beautiful as you is working here.’
She had been seduced by Nico’s easy charm and his self-assurance that even back then had sat lightly on his broad shoulders. He had kissed her for the first time that same afternoon while they were sitting in the shade of a lilac tree covered with heavenly scented purple spires. Later she had walked home on air and even her father’s drunken bad temper couldn’t burst her bubble. She’d been in love with a handsome prince who she’d been sure would make all her dreams come true.
Right now, Nico looked as dangerous as the wicked wolf beloved of so many fairy tales. Time shifted to the present and Sienna found herself looking into the glittering gaze of her ex-husband. He was moving purposefully across the dance floor towards her, accompanied by the new Mrs De Conti.
‘Let’s swap. I don’t want to be accused of monopolising your delightful bride,’ he said to Danny, skilfully executing the change of partners before Sienna had time to object.
He swept her across the dance floor so fast that her head spun and her feet barely touched the floor. When she tried to ease away from him, he clamped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him so that her breasts were crushed against his chest.
‘What are you doing?’ she muttered, struggling to speak with her face pressed against his shirt front. She could see the shadow of his dark chest hairs beneath the fine white silk. The heat of his body was melting her insides.
‘I could ask you the same question,’ he said in a terse voice, and when she glanced up at his face she realised that he was furious. ‘Did you come to Danny’s wedding to cause trouble?’
She was mystified. ‘What do you mean by trouble? What have I done?’
‘Did you give any thought to Danny’s new bride while you were flirting with him in front of the wedding guests?’
‘I was not flirting...’
‘You were all over him like a rash. Dio, you’ve got every male in the marquee panting over you. Why embarrass Victoria like that? Was it to prove that you can have any man you want, including my ass of a brother?’
Sienna sucked in a sharp breath, her temper rising to meet Nico’s. ‘You asked me to come to the reception,’ she snapped. ‘It’s ridiculous to make me out as some sort of man-eater. No one here is interested in me.’
‘I don’t believe you are unaware of the effect you have on men.’
‘I only have an effect on you.’ The words spilled from her mouth before she realised what she had said.
Nico tensed and stared at her, and the hunger in his eyes both excited and appalled her. He was her ex-husband and whatever there had been between them had died a long time ago,