The Greek's Bought Bride. Sharon Kendrick
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looked as if he was about to contest the point before seeming to change his mind and subjecting her to a smile of such intensity that Tamsyn’s heart felt as if it was going to burst right out of her chest.
‘Look, why don’t we wipe the slate clean and start again?’ he suggested smoothly, extending his hand with practised ease. ‘I’m Xan Constantinides. Short for Alexandros, in case you were wondering.’
‘I wasn’t,’ she said moodily.
And you’re Tamsyn, aren’t you?’ he continued, undaunted. ‘Tamsyn Wilson.’
Behind her unsmiling lips, Tamsyn gritted her teeth. He hadn’t bothered finding out her name before, had he? But now he’d discovered she was related to Hannah, he was behaving very differently She glanced up at where the prospective bride and groom were sitting next to one another on some amazing dais. Hannah was smiling but Tamsyn knew her well enough to see the strain of the occasion on her face—and she was pregnant. And since Hannah had stressed that Xan was engaged in some important business with the Sheikh, then shouldn’t she at least try to be polite to him, at least for the duration of the meal itself?
‘Yes,’ she said, as a delicate mango and walnut salad was placed in front of her. ‘That’s my name.’
‘So why don’t you tell me something about yourself, Tamsyn Wilson?’
Picking up a golden fork to half-heartedly push her food around the plate, Tamsyn wondered what the Greek tycoon would say if she told him the truth. That if her parents had been married, her real surname would have been one of the most memorable in the world. But she had never used it. She’d never had the right to use it—not then and certainly not now. She looked into his cobalt eyes and tried to suppress the insane flutter of her heart. ‘What would you like to know?’
He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Why don’t we start with the obvious. You say you’re no longer working at the Bluebird Club?’
‘I told you—I was sacked.’
‘So what are you doing instead?’
Perhaps if she hadn’t been feeling so out of place then Tamsyn might have engaged in small-talk. She might have skated over her nomadic existence and pretended she was just like every other woman there. But somehow those words wouldn’t come. Maybe Xan Constantinides was too unsettling a presence and those cobalt eyes too deeply penetrating. Because the idea of putting a positive spin on a life which had felt like it was spiralling out of control lately, suddenly seemed too big an ask. Why bother trying to impress someone who was only deigning to speak to her because she was soon to be related to the Sheikh?
‘Oh, I have a terribly glamorous life—you wouldn’t believe,’ she said airily. ‘I work in a coffee bar by day and stack supermarket shelves by night.’
He frowned. ‘Those sound like very long hours.’
‘Go straight to the top of the class, Mr Constantinides—they are.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Aren’t you qualified to do anything other than waitress work?’
She put the golden fork back down on the plate with a clatter, her starter untasted. ‘Actually, no, I’m not. Exams were never really my number one concern when I was at school.’
‘So why not retrain to do something else?’ he questioned as he lifted up his own goblet, his steady cobalt gaze surveying her over its jewelled rim. ‘You seem bright enough.’
Tamsyn nearly laughed out loud and not just because the remark was deeply patronising. That was the trouble with rich people. They had no idea how the world really worked. They’d been cushioned by their wealth and privilege for so long, that they couldn’t put themselves in someone else’s shoes. ‘And who’s going to fund me while I do that?’ she questioned, trying to keep her voice from shaking. ‘When I’ve just had a rent raise from my landlord? And before you tell me to move to somewhere cheaper, I’ve lived in London all my life and can’t imagine going anywhere else. Some problems don’t have easy solutions, I’m afraid. Not unless you’re prepared to throw wads of cash at them, which isn’t an option for most people. Welcome to the real world, Mr Constantinides.’
Xan wondered if she was aware that her defiant words were causing her chest to heave, making it difficult for him not to stare openly at the silk-covered perfection of her breasts. With an effort he focussed his gaze on his wine glass, twirling the stem between his fingers and watching as the different jewels sparkled in the light from the overhead chandeliers. ‘It’s true I have made a sizeable amount of money,’ he conceded. ‘But that certainly doesn’t guarantee a trouble-free life.’
‘You mean like someone forgetting to peel your grapes for you, or your private jet failing to take off on time?’
‘That’s a rather predictable response, Tamsyn,’ he mused softly. ‘You know, I’m almost disappointed. I was hoping for something a little more original.’
‘Oh, dear,’ she said, pushing out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. ‘The billionaire is disappointed. We can’t have that, can we?’
He met the hectic glitter of her green gaze and the pooling at his groin increased. Xan shifted in his seat. He had tried to be polite but she was having none of it and he suspected he knew why. Because something was flowing between them. Something powerful. The kind of physical attraction he’d been encountering from women ever since he’d reached puberty though it had never felt like this before. Women didn’t usually glare at him as if he was the devil incarnate, or try to rub him up the wrong way. He suspected that Tamsyn’s supposed dislike of him was masking a much deeper response and that her darkened eyes were telling the real story. A flicker of a smile curved his lips. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And why not? Why not enjoy one final taste of freedom before destiny beckoned?
But he didn’t intend spending the entire meal fighting with her and not simply because fighting was a bore. Because he understood the psychology of women only too well. They always wanted what they thought they couldn’t have. She needed to understand that she was in danger of missing out if she continued to be insolent towards him. He would make her wait and make her squirm, so that by the time she came to him she would be so aroused that...
The pressure at his groin was almost unbearable as, very deliberately, he turned his back on her and began to speak to the Italian heiress to his right.
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