on her face. Real emotion. Was it pride or distress which made her lips tremble like that? ‘I’m not going to ask Hannah for help,’ she said fiercely. ‘She’s helped me too often in the past and it’s about time I stood on my own two feet.’
Xan nodded, realising that her misplaced pride was playing right into his hands. ‘Then I think I can help you,’ he said quietly. ‘Or rather, I think we can help each other.’
She had recovered from her brief spell of vulnerability and that familiar challenge was back in her eyes. ‘Me, help the powerful Xan Constantinides? Gosh. I can’t imagine how I would do that.’
Xan paused for a moment because even though they meant nothing, the words he was about to say still had the power to make him tense. He’d had a blueprint for his life and up until now it had all gone according to plan, for he had micro-managed and controlled every part of it. It was how he had won a straight scholarship to Harvard from a humble village school and made a fortune in the property market, soon after graduating. He’d thought of matrimony to Sofia as just another stage in his game plan, but suddenly all that had changed. Suddenly he could understand why they called it wedlock. His eyes didn’t leave Tamsyn’s face.
‘By marrying me,’ he said.
XAN HAD NEVER seen anyone look so startled. Across the restaurant table, he watched Tamsyn’s lips open and the pink tip of her tongue reminded him of the erotic pathways it had traced over his sweat-sheened skin. He shifted his weight a little and swallowed, because Tamsyn Wilson had given him more orgasms in a few short hours than any other woman—so many he’d lost count, and a man never forgot something like that.
The hardness in his groin increased, because didn’t his current dilemma provide him with the perfect opportunity to feast on her delectable body once more? He hadn’t pursued the affair not just because she was Kulal’s new sister-in-law but because she had an inner wildness which made him uneasy—a wildness he had responded to in a way he didn’t quite trust. Because something about her fire and her spirit had made him ignore his instinct to take her to bed in the first place. And ignoring his instincts had made him feel as if control was slipping away from him, which he didn’t like. He didn’t like it at all.
‘Did you really just ask me to marry you?’ she was saying, her green eyes unnaturally bright in the flicker of the candlelight.
‘You want me to repeat it for you?’ he drawled.
He was curious to see what her reaction would be, because that would colour his future behaviour towards her. If she looked as if he was about to present her with the moon on a platter and make her every dream come true, then he would have to be wary. But if, as he suspected—she cared as little for him as he did for her—there was no reason why they couldn’t both enjoy what he had in mind.
But there was no sign of longing or triumph on her freckled face. Her green eyes were as suspicious as they’d been before. And Xan couldn’t deny a brief kick of incredulity, for he was used to women making no secret of their adoration for him.
‘Is this some kind of bad joke?’ she was demanding. ‘Have you had a bet with someone to see how much of a sucker I can be?’
He shook his head. ‘I have often been described as difficult, but I am never knowingly cruel.’
There was a trace of uncertainty in her demeanour now. He could see her computing his words and failing to make sense of them.
She waited until the waiter had deposited their food in front of them before raising her eyebrows. ‘So, why? I mean, why do you want to marry me? Did it take you all this time to realise that you can’t possibly live without me and the only way to guarantee having me for the rest of your life is to slip a wedding ring on my finger?’
He stiffened before detecting sarcasm. ‘Hardly,’ he said.
She picked up her fork and hungrily began to eat. ‘So why?’
Xan sucked in a long breath. Explanations he found difficult. Almost as difficult as intimacy. It was in his nature to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself—or maybe that was just the way he’d been raised. His mother had been indifferent towards him and his father had been too busy trying to claw back his land and his heritage, to have any time for his only son. Either way, Xan had never let anyone close enough to worry about whether or not he trusted them. Yet to some extent he was going to have to trust Tamsyn Wilson if she agreed to his plan. And wouldn’t that give her power over him? He swallowed, recognising that if he didn’t want her abusing that power, he was going to have to reward her very handsomely.
‘How much do you know about me?’ he demanded.
She dabbed at her lips but the large linen napkin failed to hide her smile. ‘You think I was so obsessed after our night in Zahristan that I hunted around to find out everything I could?’
‘I don’t know.’ He sent her a look of challenge. ‘Did you?’
‘Funnily enough, no. I’ve had enough experience of lost causes to know when to quit. I certainly didn’t waste any time mooning over someone who couldn’t wait to get away from me. What do I know about you? Let me see.’ She began to tap each finger, as if counting off the facts. ‘Basically, you’re loaded—my friend Ellie told me you were born mega-rich, though I think I could have worked that out for myself judging by your fancy suits and your swagger. My sister mentioned you were a hugely successful businessman—oh, and you’re arrogant. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that since that’s a quality you seem to have in abundance.’
An unexpected smile touched the edges of Xan’s lips. Clearly he wasn’t going to have to worry about Tamsyn Wilson putting him on a pedestal!
‘Anything else?’ he questioned sardonically.
She shrugged. ‘You don’t seem as if you like me very much and yet now you’re asking me to marry you?’ She shook her red curls and scooped up another forkful of lobster. ‘Forgive me if I sound confused—it’s because I am.’
Discreetly, Xan gestured to the Sommelier, who returned moments later bearing a dusty bottle. A dark red liquid was dispensed into his glass and when Tamsyn shook her head in reply to the silent question in his eyes, he took a sip of the wine before continuing.
‘There are only two things you need to know about me, Tamsyn,’ he said. ‘The first is that I believe there is no problem on this earth you can’t buy your way out of, and the second is that there is a woman in Greece to whom I have been unofficially betrothed for many years.’ He paused. ‘Except I’ve realised that I cannot go through with it. I cannot marry her.’
He saw her eyes darken in distress. Saw the brief stabbing of her teeth into her lower lip before she displayed her more habitual air of nonchalance. ‘Then don’t. Just tell her. Dump her as comprehensively as you dumped me. She might be a bit upset but I should think one day she’ll be grateful she isn’t stuck with a misogynist like you for a lifetime. What’s the problem, Xan? Has she found out you were sleeping with me—and maybe others—behind her back? Has she gone on the warpath in the way that only a jealous woman can?’
Angrily, Xan slammed his glass down on the table. ‘Just for the record, I haven’t had sex with anyone since the night I spent with you and I certainly haven’t had sex with Sofia,’ he growled.
