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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

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