Modern Romance August 2018 Books 1-4 Collection. Tara Pammi

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СКАЧАТЬ Tamsyn followed the elegant blonde down a long corridor and into a dressing room which led off from an huge bedroom. Maybe if she hadn’t just lost her job for the umpteenth time and maybe if the image of her tiny bedsit hadn’t just flashed into her mind, then she might have told Emma she’d changed her mind, thanked her for her kind offer and just left. Xan might be keen to put some mysterious ‘proposition’ to her, but despite what she suspected was his tendency to always get his own way—she doubted whether he would actually try to keep her here by force.

      But she didn’t do any of those things. Perhaps it was the blonde’s serene presence or just the fact that Tamsyn was tired. Bone tired. As if she could sleep for a hundred years and then maybe a hundred more. So she nodded politely as Emma ran her perfectly manicured fingernails—a deep shade of blue which matched her cardigan—along a line of colour-co-ordinated clothes hanging in the biggest closet Tamsyn had ever seen.

      ‘I’m not going to stand over you and influence your choice,’ she told Tamsyn softly. ‘Just wear whatever takes your fancy—and that includes shoes, if they fit. I’ll go and entertain your man and see you back in the sitting room.’

      Mutely, Tamsyn nodded. She wanted to tell Emma that Xan wasn’t her anything but surely that was an over-complicating factor and things were complicated enough already. Her heart was racing as she quickly washed in the en-suite bathroom before slithering into a long-sleeved dress in green cashmere which she cinched in at the waist with a belt. Her tiny feet swam like boats in tall Emma’s sleek footwear so she packed the toes of some green suede shoes with wads of tissue paper. Liberating her curls from their elastic band, she raked a comb through them in a vain attempt to tame them and, tucking her own damp clothes under her arm, walked back towards the sitting room.

      She was surprised to hear Emma speaking in Greek to Xan, but the conversation died away as she walked into the massive room. She couldn’t deny the inordinate amount of pleasure she took from the look of disbelief on Xan’s face as slowly he looked her up and down. It reminded her that she really could scrub up well—even if she had to rely on the charity of other people in order to do so.

      The tycoon was rising to his feet, dominating the room with his powerful presence, a faint smile curving his lips. ‘I’ve told Emma we have a table booked downstairs.’

      It seemed almost rude to just use the kind blonde’s apartment like some kind of upmarket changing room, but Emma was also getting to her feet, giving Tamsyn another genuine smile which made her feel momentarily disconcerted.

      ‘And Zac is just flying in from Zurich,’ she said, her cheeks growing pink with pleasure. ‘Where it appears that my husband has bought yet another hotel.’

      It was only then that Tamsyn made the connection and she wondered how she could have been so dense. Emma was married to Zac Constantinides—the billionaire owner of the Granchester group of luxury hotels and Zac was Xan’s cousin? Why hadn’t Hannah reminded her of that? As the lift zoomed them back down to the hotel foyer, she wondered why she hadn’t made the link herself, when it wasn’t exactly the most common surname in the world. Probably because her mind and her body had been so full of new and conflicting emotions. And they still were. Surreptitiously, she touched her tongue to lips which were as dry as washing hung out in the sun, achingly aware that she was far from immune to the statuesque man who walked beside her.

      They were shown into Garden Room, which overlooked an outdoor space which was surprisingly big, given its central London location. A discreet notice on the wall informed customers that the gardens had recently won a top horticultural award and although it was dark outside, cleverly placed lighting illuminated the tall shrubs and rare trees. As the maître d’ showed them to what was obviously the best table—tucked away in a corner but with a birds-eye view of the floodlit gardens—Tamsyn became 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 СКАЧАТЬ