Response. Penny Jordan

carols being sung on Christmas Eve as a child, the lump in her throat threatening to render her completely speechless. Alexis saw her reaction and laughed deep in his throat, a husky, satisfied sound, and she knew that the fact that she was still a virgin was pleasing him.

      ‘Ah, yes, we shall be lovers, you and I,’ he promised her, ‘but not today… not yet. First we shall enjoy the anticipation a little, and I shall try to school myself to playing the suitor rather than the lover. Also there is work to do, because I wasn’t lying about my need for a secretary.’

      Work? After this? Sienna stared mutely at him, but as she discovered as the day progressed he hadn’t been joking. Marvelling at his ability to change from lover to employer, she tried to follow his lead and concentrate on the detailed dictation he was giving her, all the time acutely conscious of the maleness of him; the way his trousers moulded the strong muscles of his thighs; the breadth of his shoulders and the depth of his chest in the clinging silk shirt that seemed to mould itself to his body.

      In that afternon Sienna gained a brief understanding of how diverse his business interests were: he wasn’t just the Chairman of Hellas Holidays, he also had an interest in an international airline, in villas on the islands, which he owned and let out, in olive groves, and even a vineyard in the Napa Valley in California. That had come to him through his mother, who Sienna deduced from the brief comments that he made had been half Italian and half American, which no doubt accounted for his height, and less swarthy complexion than she might have expected. It also explained the grey eyes which were so totally unexpected and devasting in the pure symmetry of a face which had its beginnings in the very best of the ancient sculptures.

      They worked without pause until six o’clock. Sienna felt limp and drained when they had finished. Alexis had dictated consistently in English, but she had translations to make into French and German, and she was relieved when he told her that she would have the best part of the following morning to work on what he had just given her.

      ‘I shall be in meetings for most of the morning.’ He saw her face and smiled, and the dying rays of the sun streaming through the windows lingered against his skin casting shadows that gave him a faintly cynical, predatory air, and one which was totally at odds with the man Sienna thought him to be. She shivered in spite of herself, faintly repelled by the transformation, the cold, almost detached air with which he seemed to be studying her, but then he moved and it was gone, and she laughed inwardly at her own folly. It had been a trick of the sunlight, nothing more, and she forgot that he was a man who came from a land that was more used to harsh sunlight then gentle shadows, she forgot everything as he came towards her, pulling her out of her chair, gently removing her pad and pencil from nerveless fingers, framing her face with his hands as he studied her wildly flushed features.

      ‘Tomorrow I must work, but we still have tonight. Will you let me take you out to dinner?’

      Would she? Sienna moistened her lips and trembled as she saw the flaring reaction of his eyes to the gesture and felt its echo in his body.

      ‘No, I am not going to take you to my bed tonight,’ he muttered accurately reading her mind… ‘but one night, not so very far from now when you are ready for me, I shall.’

      I’m ready now, Sienna wanted to tell him, half appalled by her own immodesty and hunger, but he was already releasing her, putting her away from him, smiling at her as he asked politely, ‘Will you be able to be ready by half past eight? I’ll book a table for nine. Aristotle, my chauffeur, is waiting downstairs to take you home. Unfortunately I am expecting an important call from New York, otherwise I would go with you. Do you live alone?’

      With a shock Sienna realised it was the first personal question he had asked her. Somehow exchanging past histories had seemed irrelevant, but now she managed to murmur, ‘No… with my brother, but he’s away at the moment. He’s a reporter. Our parents are dead, and Rob very kindly took me in when our father died. I used to work for him, you see, and when he died I just didn’t know what to do with myself.’

      ‘You love your brother very deeply?’

      Sienna frowned, wondering at the darkness in his eyes and the curt iciness in his voice. Surely he wasn’t jealous of Rob? ‘Yes,’ she replied simply. ‘Everyone likes him. He’s a marvellous person, so kind and thoughtful….’

      ‘And he has a woman, this kind and thoughtful brother?’

      Sienna hesitated, disturbed by the thread of sarcasm she could sense woven into the words. ‘I… I don’t know,’ she finished lamely, feeling it would be wrong to discuss her suspicions about Rob’s feelings for Gillian with anyone else, even Alexis.

      ‘So…. Then he has never discussed with you a special woman, this wonderful brother of yours whom you so admire?’

      He must be jealous, Sienna thought blankly, there could be no other reason for the dislike and, yes, almost hatred embittering his voice. ‘Never,’ she responded resolutely.

      ‘You had better leave now, Aristotle will be waiting.’ The abrupt change of subject startled her a little at first, but Sienna accepted it, thinking there would be time that evening to question Alexis about his family and background.

      She went over to the door and shrugged into her coat, picking up her bag. ‘And, Sienna…’ She paused, wondering if he was going to change his mind and command her to remain with him after all. He smiled, warmth infusing the darkness of his features and making her weak with the need to go to him and touch him. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Tonight wear something that permits me to see a little more of your body than the clothes you are wearing now. That way I shall have something to warm my lonely bed tonight.’

      He saw her face and shook his head. ‘No, this is no brief casual thing between us, and I will not hurry it. When a man finds the food which is to last him for the rest of his life he does not consume it with greed as though it were his final feast. Now go,’ he said softly, ‘before I forget all my lofty ideals and remember only how badly I want to make you mine.’

      All the way down in the lift her heart sang. Alexis had put the final seal on her happiness. He wanted her, not just for now, but for always, it had been implicit in his final words to her. She thought of having Alexis as her husband, of bearing his children, and her body shook with the pleasure the thought gave her.