LITMIR.BIZ

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aware of people watching them. Or rather, they were watching Xan. Did he realise that, or was his sense of self-worth so strong that he didn’t notice?

      ‘So why have you brought me here?’ she questioned as she sat down to face a gleam of silver and crystal, tightening her hands as she laid them down on the snowy linen tablecloth. ‘And more importantly, why have I let you?’

      He paused for a moment while the waiter handed them menus, a wry smile touching the edges of his lips. ‘Because we have been lovers and because you’re curious.’

      She gave a defiant tilt of her chin. ‘I don’t usually let people move me around like I’m a chip on the gaming table.’

      ‘I get that. Just as I don’t usually rush in and mastermind a transformation scene for my dinner dates,’ he added drily, flicking her a cool cobalt gaze. ‘You look absolutely sensational in that dress, by the way.’

      Stupidly, the compliment made her want to squirm with pleasure until Tamsyn reminded herself that she still didn’t know why she was here. But he was right. She was curious.

      ‘So what do you want to talk about?’

      ‘Why don’t we choose what we want to eat first, otherwise the waiter will keep hovering over us.’ He glanced at the menu before fixing her with his dark blue gaze. ‘Would you like me to order for you?’

      Tamsyn glared. Did he think she was so poor and humble that she’d couldn’t interpret the French menu? Didn’t he realise she’d worked in more fancy restaurants than he’d probably had hot dinners? She was sorely tempted to tell him she’d changed her mind, when she spotted something being lit with blue flames on a nearby table. Something delicious enough to make her mouth water and once again she was reminded that it was ages since she’d eaten.

      ‘I’ll have the lobster thermidor and the green salad with vinaigrette on the side,’ she said carelessly. ‘And no wine—just sparkling water.’

      She enjoyed his faint look of surprise as he slapped his own menu shut and handed it to the waiter. ‘I’ll have the same,’ he said, leaning back in his chair to study her.

      ‘So,’ she said, when he appeared in no hurry to break the silence. ‘I’m still waiting for some sort of explanation. I mean, you’ve been content to ignore me for weeks and then you just turn up out of the blue and bring me here with the offer of some mystery proposition. What is it, Xan? Do you happen to own a café with an opening for a waitress who urgently needs a job?’

      Xan realised that he was going to have to exercise great care in his choice of words because Tamsyn Wilson was both volatile and unpredictable. In a way she was the worst possible candidate for what he had in mind, but ironically it was her very unsuitability which made her the ideal candidate.

      ‘You’re in a bit of a fix right now aren’t you, Tamsyn?’ he questioned softly.

      Her emerald eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘How do you know that?’

      He shrugged. ‘Call it intuition or call it observation. You seem to switch jobs quite frequently and being fired doesn’t seem to freak you out as much as it would some people.’ His gaze stayed fixed on her face. ‘And I noticed you had a hole in your coat.’

      She blushed and seemed to hesitate. As if wondering whether or not to brazen things out and keep pretending that, apart from urgently needing a job—everything else was okay. But the strain around her eyes told him that her plight was chronic and maybe she realised that, because some of her defiance seemed to ebb away as she lifted her shoulders in a shrug which didn’t quite come off.

      ‘I’ve known better times,’ she admitted.

      ‘But your sister has just married one of the wealthiest men in the world,’ he probed. ‘Surely she can come to your rescue if you’re in need of money.’

      For the first time he saw emotion 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.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      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?’

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