She told herself not to panic. People were slowly filing forward and in a few minutes she’d be safely on the plane and hopefully sitting as far away from him as possible. If it had been a commercial flight she would have been perfectly entitled to ignore him, but this was not a commercial flight. They were all guests at the same exclusive royal wedding and even Tamsyn’s shaky grasp on protocol warned her that she mustn’t be rude.
But she could certainly be cool. She didn’t have to gush or be super-friendly. She didn’t owe him anything. She was no longer in the subservient role of waitress and could say exactly what she wanted.
‘Well, well, well,’ he murmured, his English faultless as he pulled his passport from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
Tamsyn fixed her face into a mildly questioning expression. ‘I’m sorry? Have we met?’
Cobalt eyes narrowed. ‘Well, unless you have a doppelganger,’ he drawled. ‘You’re the waitress who hurled a drink into my lap last summer. Surely you can’t have forgotten?’
For a moment Tamsyn was tempted to tell him that yes, she had forgotten. She thought about pretending she’d never seen him before, but suspected he would see through her. Because nobody would ever forget crossing paths with a man like Xan Constantinides, would they? Not unless they were devoid of all their senses. She gave him a steady look. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I was thinking about it afterwards and wondering if you made a habit of throwing drinks all over your customers.’
She shook her head. ‘Actually, no. It’s never happened before.’
‘Just with me?’
‘Just with you,’ she agreed.
There was a pause. ‘So was it deliberate?’
She considered his silky question and answered it as honestly as she could. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘You don’t think so?’ he exploded. ‘What kind of an answer is that?’
She heard his incredulity and as Tamsyn met his piercing gaze she suddenly wanted him to know. Because maybe nobody had ever told him before. Maybe nobody had ever pointed out that the opposite sex were not something you could just dispose of, as if you were throwing an unwanted item of clothing into the recycling bin. ‘I’m not going to deny that I felt sorry for the woman you were dumping.’
He frowned, as if he couldn’t work out which particular woman she was talking about. As if he were running over a whole host of candidates who might have fitted the bill. And then his face cleared. ‘Ah, neh,’ he murmured in his native tongue, before the frown reappeared. ‘What do you mean, you felt sorry for her?’
Tamsyn shrugged. ‘She was clearly very upset. Anyone could see that. I thought you could have done it in a kinder way. Somewhere more private, perhaps.’
He gave a short and disbelievingly laugh. ‘You’re saying you made a negative judgement of me based on a few overheard words of conversation?’
‘I know what I saw,’ said Tamsyn doggedly. ‘She seemed very upset.’
‘She was.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Our relationship was over but she refused to believe it, and this time she needed to believe it. We hadn’t seen each other for weeks when she asked to meet me for a drink and I agreed. And I left her in no doubt that I couldn’t give her what she wanted.’
Slowly Tamsyn digested all this, her curiosity aroused in spite of herself. ‘What was it she wanted that you were unable to give her?’
He smiled at her then—a brief, glittering smile which momentarily made one of the female ground staff turn and look at him in dazed adoration.
‘Why marriage, of course,’ he said softly. ‘I’m afraid it’s an inevitable side-effect of dating women—they always seem to want to push things on to the next level.’
It was several seconds before Tamsyn could bring herself to answer. ‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘That is the most arrogant thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘It may be arrogant, but it’s true.’
‘Has nobody ever dumped you?’
‘Nobody,’ he echoed sardonically. ‘How about you?’
Tamsyn wondered why she was having a conversation like this while waiting in line to get on a plane but, having started it, it would be pathetic to call time on it just because he’d touched on a subject she found difficult. No, she had never been dumped, but then she’d only ever had one relationship which she’d ended as soon as she realised that her body was as frozen as her heart. But she wasn’t going to tell Xan Constantinides that. She didn’t have to tell him anything, she reminded herself, replacing his question with one of her own.
‘Did you complain about me to the management?’
He dragged his gaze away from the pert stewardess, who was ticking off passenger names on her clipboard. ‘No. Why?’
‘I got the sack soon after.’
‘And you think I orchestrated it?’
She shrugged. ‘Why not? It happened to my sister. The man she’s marrying actually got her fired from her job.’
‘Well, for your information, no—I didn’t. I have enough staff of my own to look after without keeping tabs on those employed by other people, no matter how incompetent they are.’ There was a pause. ‘What happened to your sister?’
It occurred to Tamsyn he didn’t have a clue who she was. That he had no idea it was the Sheikh himself who’d got her sister fired, or that after Saturday’s glittering ceremony he would be her new brother-in-law. To Xan Constantinides, she was just a judgmental cocktail waitress who couldn’t hold a job down and he probably thought it ran in the family. ‘Oh, you wouldn’t know her,’ she said truthfully, because Hannah had confided that she hadn’t yet met any of her Sheikh fiancé’s friends and was absolutely terrified, because they were all so high-powered.
Their conversation was halted by a smiling stewardess with a clipboard and as she was given her seat number, Tamsyn turned back to Xan Constantinides with a forced smile.
‘Nice talking to you,’ she said sarcastically and saw his navy eyes darken. ‘Enjoy the flight.’
Her heart was still pounding as she took her seat on the aircraft and picked up the book she’d so been so looking forward to—a crime thriller set in the Australian outback—which she’d hope would pass away the hours during the long journey to Zahristan’s capital city of Ashkhazar. But it was difficult to concentrate on the rather lurid plot, when all she could think about was the powerful Greek who’d managed to have such a potent effect on her. She tried to sleep, and failed. She stared out of the window at the passing clouds which looked like thick fields of cotton wool. She attempted to tuck into the variety of delicious foodstuffs which were placed before her, but her appetite seemed to have deserted her. She was just thinking gloomily about the days of celebration ahead of her, when that gravelled molasses voice broke into her thoughts.
‘I suppose you’ll be working as soon as we get there?’
Tamsyn looked up to see that Xan Constantinides had stopped in the aisle right beside her seat and was deigning to speak to her. She looked up to meet that distracting cobalt stare. ‘Working?’ she echoed in confusion.
‘I’m assuming that’s why you’re here,’ he murmured.
Suddenly Tamsyn understood. He thought she was here to act as a waitress at the royal wedding!
Well, why wouldn’t he think that? She certainly wasn’t dressed like the other women on the flight, with their discreet flashes of gold jewellery which probably cost a fortune and their studiedly casual designer outfits. Her sister had tried to insist on buying her some new clothes before the wedding, but Tamsyn had stubbornly refused. Because hadn’t Hannah helped her out too many times in the past—and hadn’t she vowed she was going to go it alone from now on?
‘Just because you’re going to marry a rich man, doesn’t mean I have to accept his charity,’ she remembered responding proudly. ‘Thanks all
the same, but I’ll wear what’s already in my wardrobe.’
Was that why Xan Constantinides was so certain she was a member of staff rather than a wedding guest? Because she was wearing old sneakers rather than those fancy shoes with the red soles which everyone else seemed to be sporting? Suddenly, Tamsyn thought she could have a bit of fun with this and liven up a wedding she was dreading. Wouldn’t it be priceless to have the Greek tycoon patronise her—before he discovered her connection to the royal house of Al Diya?
She met his scrutiny with a bashful shrug. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘An event like this pays very well and they wanted to have some British serving staff among the Zahirstanians. You know, to make sure the English-speaking guests felt at home.’
He nodded. ‘Good of them to fly you out in style.’
Tamsyn bit back an indignant laugh. Any minute now and he would start asking her if she’d ever been on an airplane before! She reached out and gave the plush leather of the armrest a quick squeeze, as if it was the chubby cheek of a particularly attractive little baby. ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘Let’s hope I don’t get too used to all this luxury before I go back to my poverty-stricken existence.’
‘Let’s hope not.’ His smile was brief and dismissive—the smiling equivalent of a yawn—as if he had already grown bored with her. His gaze drifted towards the curvy bottom of one of the stewardesses, as if already he was miles away. ‘And now, if you don’t mind—I have work to do.’
Tamsyn opened her mouth to say that he was the one who had started the conversation, but something made her shut it again, as he continued his journey up the aisle of the plane. And she wasn’t the only person looking at him—every female on the plane seemed to be following his sexy progress towards the front of the aircraft. Resentfully, Tamsyn found herself noting the powerful set of his shoulders and the way thick, dark tendrils of hair curled around the back of his neck. She thought she’d never seen a man who was quite so sure of himself. He seemed to inject the air around him with a strange and potent energy and she resented the effect he seemed to have on her without even trying.
An unfamiliar shiver whispered its way down her spine and she clenched her hands into tense little fists as the plane soared through the sky on its way to the desert kingdom.
CHAPTER TWO
TAMSYN STOOD IN the centre of the huge room, her head spinning as she gazed around her in amazement. She’d known that her sister’s fiancé owned an actual palace which she was going to be staying for the forthcoming wedding celebrations, but the reality of being here was so far outside her experience that for a moment she felt as if she were dreaming.
Drinking in her surroundings, she craned her neck to look up at the high ceiling which was vaulted and gilded with gold. She didn’t think she’d ever seen so much gold! Soft drapes fell from the floor-to-ceiling windows which overlooked surprisingly green and lush gardens—surprising, because this was, after all, a desert country. Her bed was huge and closer to the ground than she was used to and it was covered with rich brocade and velvet cushions. And everywhere she looked she could see flowers. Big, claret-coloured and sunset-hued roses crammed into what looked like solid gold vases. Their heavy scent vied with the incense which was burning softly in one corner, in a container which seemed to be studded with genuine rubies and emeralds. As for the bathroom, Tamsyn swallowed. The bathroom was something else—exceeding the standards of every upmarket hotel she’d ever worked in—and she’d worked in quite a few. She spent several minutes running her fingertips over the fluffy bathrobe and eying up the gleaming glass bottles of bath oil and perfume, wondering if she’d be able to take some of them home with her.
She had sent away the servant who had hovered around after her arrival, because just the thought of having a servant had made her feel uncomfortable, since that felt like her natural role. She’d thought she would be alone until she was summoned to the pre-wedding dinner, but a knock at the door interrupted her reverie and Tamsyn went to answer it, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the woman who was standing there. She was wearing beautiful silk robes of sapphire blue, which flowed to the ground like a waterfall. Her shiny hair was covered in some gauzy veil of silver and the sparkling earrings which dangled from her earlobes echoed the aquamarine brilliance of her eyes. Tamsyn stood in shocked silence, realising that for a few seconds she hadn’t recognised her own sister!
‘Hannah,’ she breathed. ‘Is that really you?’
Hannah came in and closed the door behind her, before enveloping Tamsyn in a crushing bear hug. ‘Of course it’s me—who did you think it was?’
Tamsyn gave a mystified shake of her head. ‘I can’t believe it. You look so different. Like...like a real-life queen.’
A wry smile touched her sister’s lips. ‘Well, that’s kind of appropriate, seeing as of Saturday that’s exactly what I’m going to be.’
Tamsyn stilled. Was she imagining the strained quality in Hannah’s voice or the faint shadows around her eyes? ‘You don’t have to go through with it, you know,’ she said instantly, but her sister shook her head.
‘I’m afraid I do. I can’t back out of it now and I don’t want to. I have to do this—for the sake of the baby.’
At the mention of the baby, Tamsyn’s gaze swivelled to her sister’s belly. She supposed that most people might not even have guessed Hannah was pregnant—she looked more like someone who’d just come back from holiday having been a bit too liberal with the hotel buffet. But she knew Hannah better than anyone. Hannah who had acted more like a mother than a big sister when they were growing up. They had shared a mother who had given them up when they’d been very young—but they each had different fathers.
Just the thought of fathers made an acrid taste rise up in Tamsyn’s throat because her own had been a waster in every which way. She tried her best not to judge all men by his miserable standards, but sometimes it was difficult. But then, life was difficult, wasn’t it? Everyone knew that. These days she understood why Hannah had kept her in the dark about her parentage for so long, though she had been bitter and angry about it for a long time. But now was not the time to rake up the perceived sins of the past. She was here, not because she wanted to be—but because she was determined to support her beloved sister—the only family she had left in the world.
‘So what’s it like living with a sheikh? Is Kulal treating you properly?’ she demanded.
Hannah shot a nervous glance in the direction of the door as if she was afraid someone might be standing outside, listening.
‘He is.’ The Princess-in-waiting forced a smile. ‘How was your flight?’
Tamsyn hesitated, thinking it would probably be unwise to offload onto her pregnant sister on the eve of her wedding. No need to mention that she’d met Xan Constantinides once before and certainly no need to mention that she’d tipped a drink over him. ‘Very comfortable,’ she said. She saw Hannah frown—as if she hadn’t been expecting such polite diplomacy so she injected her next remark with just the right amount of carelessness. ‘I bumped into some Greek tycoon in the queue.’
‘Xan Constantinides?’
‘That’s him.’ Tamsyn paused and then, despite her best intentions, she couldn’t resist her next comment. ‘He’s pretty full of himself, isn’t he?’
Hannah shrugged. ‘Why wouldn’t he be? He made billions at an early age and is built like a Greek god. Apparently women fall at his feet like ninepins and I guess those kind of things can go to a man’s head. And of course, he’s never been married—which makes him a bit of a target for predatory women. Never even got close, so Kulal tells me.’ She frowned. ‘You didn’t...you didn’t fall for him did you, Tamsyn?’
‘Oh, please!’ Tamsyn manufactured a disbelieving snort. ‘I don’t go for men with egos the size of Mars.’
‘And you didn’t fall out with him, I hope?’ continued Hannah nervously.
‘Oh, come on, Han. As if I c
ould be bothered!’ Tamsyn gave an airy shrug. ‘Why, I barely exchanged two words with the man.’
‘Good. Because Kulal is very fond of him and they’re in the middle of some hugely important business deal together.’ Hannah smoothed down her silky robes, the movement drawing attention to her massive diamond engagement ring which glittered on her finger like a constellation of stars. ‘But that’s enough about Xan. I thought we could discuss your wardrobe.’
‘My wardrobe?’ Tamsyn’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘What about it?’
There was a pause, during which Hannah seemed to be choosing her words with care. ‘Tammy, what are you planning to wear to the rehearsal dinner tonight?’
Tamsyn had been waiting for this. Bad enough that Hannah seemed to have morphed into someone completely different—ever since the arrogant Sheikh had swept into her life and carried her off to his desert kingdom. Why, she barely recognised the elegant creature who stood before her as the same person who had once made beds for a living as a chambermaid at the Granchester Hotel. But that didn’t mean she had to do the same, did it?
‘I’ve got a very nice dress I bought down the market,’ she said. ‘I’m going to wear that. And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Tammy?’
‘Tamsyn, you can’t. You can’t wear some dress you’ve bought down the market to a royal wedding!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because...because....’ Distractedly Hannah began to pace around the vast suite, her silken robes swishing against the floor as she moved. ‘Well, the guest list is pretty daunting, if you want the truth. Even to me. Especially to me,’ she added, on a whisper.
‘I’m not daunted by other people’s wealth,’ said Tamsyn proudly.
The Greek's Bought Bride Page 2
