The Greek's Bought Bride. Sharon Kendrick
she’d worked in quite a few. She spent several minutes running her fingertips over the fluffy bathrobe and eying up the gleaming glass bottles of bath oil and perfume, wondering if she’d be able to take some of them home with her.
She had sent away the servant who had hovered around after her arrival, because just the thought of having a servant had made her feel uncomfortable, since that felt like her natural role. She’d thought she would be alone until she was summoned to the pre-wedding dinner, but a knock at the door interrupted her reverie and Tamsyn went to answer it, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the woman who was standing there. She was wearing beautiful silk robes of sapphire blue, which flowed to the ground like a waterfall. Her shiny hair was covered in some gauzy veil of silver and the sparkling earrings which dangled from her earlobes echoed the aquamarine brilliance of her eyes. Tamsyn stood in shocked silence, realising that for a few seconds she hadn’t recognised her own sister!
‘Hannah,’ she breathed. ‘Is that really you?’
Hannah came in and closed the door behind her, before enveloping Tamsyn in a crushing bear hug. ‘Of course it’s me—who did you think it was?’
Tamsyn gave a mystified shake of her head. ‘I can’t believe it. You look so different. Like...like a real-life queen.’
A wry smile touched her sister’s lips. ‘Well, that’s kind of appropriate, seeing as of Saturday that’s exactly what I’m going to be.’
Tamsyn stilled. Was she imagining the strained quality in Hannah’s voice or the faint shadows around her eyes? ‘You don’t have to go through with it, you know,’ she said instantly, but her sister shook her head.
‘I’m afraid I do. I can’t back out of it now and I don’t want to. I have to do this—for the sake of the baby.’
At the mention of the baby, Tamsyn’s gaze swivelled to her sister’s belly. She supposed that most people might not even have guessed Hannah was pregnant—she looked more like someone who’d just come back from holiday having been a bit too liberal with the hotel buffet. But she knew Hannah better than anyone. Hannah who had acted more like a mother than a big sister when they were growing up. They had shared a mother who had given them up when they’d been very young—but they each had different fathers.
Just the thought of fathers made an acrid taste rise up in Tamsyn’s throat because her own had been a waster in every which way. She tried her best not to judge all men by his miserable standards, but sometimes it was difficult. But then, life was difficult, wasn’t it? Everyone knew that. These days she understood why Hannah had kept her in the dark about her parentage for so long, though she had been bitter and angry about it for a long time. But now was not the time to rake up the perceived sins of the past. She was here, not because she wanted to be—but because she was determined to support her beloved sister—the only family she had left in the world.
‘So what’s it like living with a sheikh? Is Kulal treating you properly?’ she demanded.
Hannah shot a nervous glance in the direction of the door as if she was afraid someone might be standing outside, listening.
‘He is.’ The Princess-in-waiting forced a smile. ‘How was your flight?’
Tamsyn hesitated, thinking it would probably be unwise to offload onto her pregnant sister on the eve of her wedding. No need to mention that she’d met Xan Constantinides once before and certainly no need to mention that she’d tipped a drink over him. ‘Very comfortable,’ she said. She saw Hannah frown—as if she hadn’t been expecting such polite diplomacy so she injected her next remark with just the right amount of carelessness. ‘I bumped into some Greek tycoon in the queue.’
‘Xan Constantinides?’
‘That’s him.’ Tamsyn paused and then, despite her best intentions, she couldn’t resist her next comment. ‘He’s pretty full of himself, isn’t he?’
Hannah shrugged. ‘Why wouldn’t he be? He made billions at an early age and is built like a Greek god. Apparently women fall at his feet like ninepins and I guess those kind of things can go to a man’s head. And of course, he’s never been married—which makes him a bit of a target for predatory women. Never even got close, so Kulal tells me.’ She frowned. ‘You didn’t...you didn’t fall for him did you, Tamsyn?’
‘Oh, please!’ Tamsyn manufactured a disbelieving snort. ‘I don’t go for men with egos the size of Mars.’
‘And you didn’t fall out with him, I hope?’ continued Hannah nervously.
‘Oh, come on, Han. As if I could be bothered!’ Tamsyn gave an airy shrug. ‘Why, I barely exchanged two words with the man.’
‘Good. Because Kulal is very fond of him and they’re in the middle of some hugely important business deal together.’ Hannah smoothed down her silky robes, the movement drawing attention to her massive diamond engagement ring which glittered on her finger like a constellation of stars. ‘But that’s enough about Xan. I thought we could discuss your wardrobe.’
‘My wardrobe?’ Tamsyn’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘What about it?’
There was a pause, during which Hannah seemed to be choosing her words with care. ‘Tammy, what are you planning to wear to the rehearsal dinner tonight?’
Tamsyn had been waiting for this. Bad enough that Hannah seemed to have morphed into someone completely different—ever since the arrogant Sheikh had swept into her life and carried her off to his desert kingdom. Why, she barely recognised the elegant creature who stood before her as the same person who had once made beds for a living as a chambermaid at the Granchester Hotel. But that didn’t mean she had to do the same, did it?
‘I’ve got a very nice dress I bought down the market,’ she said. ‘I’m going to wear that. And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Tammy?’
‘Tamsyn, you can’t. You can’t wear some dress you’ve bought down the market to a royal wedding!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because...because....’ Distractedly Hannah began to pace around the vast suite, her silken robes swishing against the floor as she moved. ‘Well, the guest list is pretty daunting, if you want the truth. Even to me. Especially to me,’ she added, on a whisper.
‘I’m not daunted by other people’s wealth,’ said Tamsyn proudly.
‘I know you’re not—and there’s no reason you should be. It’s just...’
‘Just what? Come on, Hannah—spit it out.’
Hannah drew to a halt beside Tamsyn’s open suitcase, shooting a quick glance inside before sucking in a big breath which failed to hide her instinctive grimace. ‘You can’t wear any old thing,’ she said gently, as she turned to look at her sister. ‘Not to a function as important as this. It’s my wedding and you’re my sister. I’m the bride and the groom just happens to be a desert king. People are going to be looking at you, you know—especially as you’re the only family I’ve got.’
Tamsyn’s first instinct was to say she didn’t care what other people thought. And if she fancied wearing her canvas sneakers beneath the dress she’d picked up for a bargain price—then that’s exactly what she would do. But something about Hannah’s anxious face tugged at a conscience she would prefer not to have. Suddenly she recognised that any defiance in the clothes department might reflect badly, not necessarily on her—but on her sister. And hadn’t Hannah always done so much for her? Cared for and protected her during those deprived days of their fractured childhood...didn’t she owe her for that?
‘I don’t have any fancy clothes,’ she mumbled, feeling once again like the little girl who’d been mocked in the school playground because there was nothing in her lunchbox but a few scraps of bread and jam. You’re poor, the other children used to taunt—and Tamsyn had been too ashamed to admit that her foster father had spent all his money on