The Greek's Bought Bride. Sharon Kendrick
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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.
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