A Breathless Bride (4 page)

Four

T
he vibration of a cell phone broke the electrifying silence.

Constantine answered the call, relieved at the sudden release of tension, the excuse to step back from a situation that had spiraled out of control.

He had practically threatened Sienna, a tactic he had never before resorted to, even when dealing with slick, professional fraudsters. In light of the heart-pounding discovery that Sienna hadn’t known about her father’s latest scam, his behavior was inexcusable. He should have stepped back, reassessed, postponed the meeting.

Gotten a grip before he wrecked any chance that she might want him again.

Unfortunately, Sienna doing battle with him across the polished width of her father’s desk had put a kink in his strategy. Her cheeks had been flushed, her eyes fiery, shunting him back in time to hot, sultry nights and tangled sheets. It was hard to think tactically when all he wanted to do was kiss her.

She had never been this animated or passionate with him before, he realized. Even in bed he had always been grimly aware that she was holding back, that there was a part of her he couldn’t reach.

That she was more committed to Ambrosi Pearls than she had ever been to him.

To compound the problem, he had mentioned the bad old days when the Atraeus family had been dirt-poor. Given that he wanted Sienna back in his bed, the last thing he needed was for her to view him as the grandson of the gardener.

Jaw tight, he turned to stare out at the sea view as he spoke to his personal assistant. Tomas had been trying to reach him for the past hour. Constantine had been aware he had missed calls, something he seldom did, but for once, business hadn’t been first priority.

Another uncharacteristic lapse.

Constantine hung up and broodingly surveyed Sienna as she gathered the pages she had knocked onto the floor and stacked them in a precise pile on the desktop. Even with her dress crumpled and her makeup gone, she looked elegant and classy, the quintessential lady.

A car door slammed somewhere in the distance. The staccato of high heels on the walkway was followed by the sound of the front door opening.

Constantine caught the flare of desperation in Sienna’s gaze. Witnessing that moment of sheer panic was like a kick in the chest. He was here to right a wrong that had been done to his father, but Sienna was also trying to protect her family, most specifically her mother, from him. It was a sobering moment. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “I won’t tell her.”

Sienna stifled a surge of relief and just had time to send Constantine a grateful glance before Margaret Ambrosi stepped into the room, closely followed by Carla.

“What’s going on?” her mother demanded in the cool, clear tone that had gotten her through thirty years with a husband who had given her more heartache than joy. “And don’t try to fob me off, because I know something’s wrong.”

“Mrs. Ambrosi.” Constantine used a tone that was far gentler than any Sienna could ever remember him using with her. “My condolences. Sienna and I were just discussing the details of a business deal your husband initiated a few months ago.”

Carla’s jaw was set. “I don’t believe Dad would have transacted anything without—”

Margaret Ambrosi’s hand stayed her. “So that’s why Roberto made the trip to Europe. I should have known.”

Carla frowned. “He went to Paris and Frankfurt. He didn’t go near the Mediterranean.”

An emotion close to anger momentarily replaced the exhaustion etched on her mother’s face.

“Roberto left a day earlier because he wanted to stop off at Medinos first. He said he wanted to visit the site of the old pearl facility and find his grandparents’ graves. If anything should have warned me he was up to something that should have been it. Roberto didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. He went to Medinos on business.”

“That’s correct,” Constantine said in the same gentle tone, and despite the antagonism and the towering issue of the debt, Sienna could have hugged him.

One of the qualities that had made her fall so hard for Constantine two years ago had been the way he was with his family. Put simply, he loved and protected them with the kind of fierce loyalty that still had the power to send a shiver down her spine. After years of coping with a father who had always put himself first, the prospect of being included in Constantine’s family circle, of being the focus of that fierce protective instinct, had been utterly seductive.

That had been the prime reason she had frozen inside when she had found out that her father had done an under-the-table deal with Roberto Atraeus. She hadn’t been able to discuss it; she had been afraid to even think about it. She had known how Constantine would react and when the details of the loan had surfaced, the very thing she had feared most had happened. He had shut her out.

She blinked, snapping herself out of a memory that still had the power to hurt.

Constantine checked his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment. Once again, my apologies for intruding on your grief.”

His cool gray eyes connected with hers, the message clear. They hadn’t finished their discussion.

“I’ll see you out.” Shoving the loan documents out of sight in a drawer, she followed Constantine out into the bare hallway. As much as she didn’t want to spend any more time with him, she did want to get him out of the house and away from her mother before she realized there was a problem.

The bright sunlight shafting through the open front door was glaring after the dim coolness of the study.

“Watch your step.”

Constantine’s hand cupped her elbow, the gesture nothing more than courtesy, but enough to reignite the humming awareness and the antagonism that had been so useful in getting her through the last hour and a half.

Pulse pounding, she lengthened her stride, moving away from the tingling heat of his touch and her growing conviction that Constantine wasn’t entirely unhappy with the power he now wielded over Ambrosi Pearls, and her. That behind the business-speak simmered a very personal agenda.

Her stomach tightened at the thought, her mouth going dry as the taut moments in his car replayed themselves. Barely two hours ago Constantine Atraeus, the man, hadn’t registered on her awareness. She had blanked him out, along with everything else that was not directly involved with either Ambrosi Pearls or her father’s funeral arrangements. Now she couldn’t seem to stop the hot flashes of memory and an acute awareness of him. “Thank you for not saying anything about the debt to Mom.”

“If I’d thought your mother was involved, I would have mentioned it.”

“Which means you do think I’m involved.”

Suddenly the whole idea that she could be crazily attracted to Constantine again was so not an issue.

Constantine followed her out into the courtyard and depressed the Audi’s key. The sleek car unlocked with an expensive thunk. “You’ve been running Ambrosi single-handedly for the past eighteen months. And paying Roberto’s debts.”

She grabbed a remote control from her car and opened the gate at the bottom of the driveway. As far as she was concerned, the sooner he left the better. “By selling family assets, not trying to take more loans when we’re already overcommitted.”

Constantine’s phone buzzed. He picked up the call and spoke briefly in Medinian. She heard Lucas’s name and mention of the company lawyer, Ben Vitalis. Business. That explained all three Atraeus brothers being in Sydney at the same time, no matter for how short a period. It also emphasized the fact that Constantine might be here to deal with the mess her father had entangled them both in, but on The Atraeus Group’s global radar, Ambrosi Pearls was only a blip.

The tension that gripped her stomach and chest tightened another notch. Which, once again, pointed to the personal agenda.

Constantine terminated the call. “We have a lot to discuss, but the discussion will have to wait until tonight. I’ll send a car for you at eight. We can talk over dinner.”

She stiffened. Dinner definitely sounded more personal than business, which didn’t make sense.

He had been gone for two years. In that time he hadn’t ever contacted her. For the first couple of months, she had waited for him to call or to turn up on her doorstep and say he was sorry and that he wanted to try again. The fact that he never had had been an unexpected gift.

She had gotten over him. If he thought she was going to jump feetfirst into some kind of affair with him now, he could think again. “In case you didn’t notice, I buried my father today. We have to talk, but I need a couple of days.”

Which would give her time to consult their accountant and investigate options. The chance that she could either raise the loan money or make a big sale that quickly was slim, but she had to try. It would also give her time to step back from the mystifying knee-jerk reactions she kept having toward Constantine. She no longer loved him and she certainly did not like him. She could not want him.

Constantine opened the car door. “A few days ago that could have been arranged, but you chose to avoid me. I’m flying out at midnight tomorrow. If you can’t find time before then, tomorrow there’s a cocktail party at my house, a business meet and greet for The Atraeus Group’s retail partners.”

“No.” As imperative as it was to come to grips with the looming financial disaster, the last thing she wanted was to attend a reception with Constantine, informal or not, at his house. “We’ll have to reschedule. In any case I would prefer to talk during business hours.”

In a neutral, business setting where the male/female dynamic could be neatly contained.

The businesslike gleam in Sienna’s gaze sent irritation flashing through Constantine.

None of this was going as he had envisioned. Not only did he feel like a villain, but she was now trying to call the shots and he was on the verge of losing his temper again, something else that never happened. “We need to talk. When is the reading of the will scheduled?”

“This afternoon, at four.”

He saw the moment the reality of her position sank in. If she didn’t agree to a meeting he could conceivably send a representative to the reading of the will with the loan documents. It was something he had no intention of doing, specifically because it would frighten her mother.

“You’re out of options, Sienna.” Constantine slid behind the wheel of the Audi before he caved and started hemorrhaging options that would leave him out of her life altogether.

The engine started with a throaty purr. “Be ready tomorrow at eight.”

* * *

The following morning, Constantine walked into The Atraeus Group’s Sydney office. He was ten minutes late, not quite a first, but close. He had been late once before; two years ago to be exact.

Lucas and Zane, who were both gym freaks, were already there, looking sharp and energized against the clinical backdrop of chrome and leather furniture and executive gray walls. Constantine preferred to jog on the beach or swim rather than subject himself to a rigid workout program. Watching the sunrise and getting sand in his cross trainers was the one break he cut himself in a day that was already too regimented. After a near sleepless night spent pacing, however, this morning he had figured he could forgo his normal dawn run.

He zeroed in on the take-out coffee sitting on his desk and frowned in the direction of his brothers who were both regarding him with the kind of interested gaze that made him wonder if he’d grown an extra head or put his shirt on backward. “What?”

Zane ducked his head and stared hard at the glossy business magazine he was reading, which was odd in itself. His usual reading material involved fast boats, even faster cars and art installations that Constantine didn’t pretend to understand. Lucas, meanwhile, hummed snatches of something vaguely familiar under his breath.

His temper now definitely on a short fuse, Constantine drank a mouthful of the coffee, which was lukewarm.

Lucas dropped a section of the morning paper on his desk. “Now that you’ve had some caffeine you’d better take a look at this.”

Even though he had expected it, the photo taken at Roberto Ambrosi’s funeral took his breath away. He remembered holding Sienna so she wouldn’t walk into the barrage of cameras, but the clinch the reporter had snapped didn’t look anything like protective restraint. His gaze was fused with hers, and he looked like he was about to kiss her. From memory, that was exactly how he had felt.

He skimmed the short article, going still inside when he read the statement that he had arrived in Sydney the day before Roberto Ambrosi had dropped dead from a heart attack for the specific purpose of arranging a meeting with the head of Ambrosi Pearls.

The article, thankfully, didn’t go so far as to say he had caused Ambrosi’s fatal heart attack, but it did claim a wedding announcement was expected. The tune Lucas had been humming was suddenly recognizable; it had been the
Wedding March
.

He cursed softly. “When I find out who leaked the story to the press—”

“You’ll what?” Lucas crumpled his own empty take-out cup and tossed it in the trash bin. “Give them a pay raise?”

Constantine dropped the newspaper on his desk. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re here.”

Zane pushed to his feet, the movement fluid. “If you want to step back from the negotiations, Lucas and I can delay the New Zealand trip. Better still, let Vitalis handle the loan.”