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She must have fallen asleep eventually, because when she opened her eyes it had been to discover herself alone in the rumpled bed with bright sunlight on her face and only a scrawled note occupying the space where Xan had lain. She had picked it up with trembling fingers and read it.
Gone riding in the desert. That was the most perfect night.
Thank you.
Xan.
Tamsyn’s heart had sunk for it had read like the farewell it was obviously intended to be. There had been no line of kisses. No phone number or email address, or invitation to have dinner with him back in London.
Well, what had she been expecting—everlasting love?
Of course she hadn’t, but even facing up to the folly of her actions didn’t make it any easier. She’d done some pretty stupid things in her time, but sleeping with Xan Constantinides must rank right up there with some of the worst decisions she’d ever made. Easy come, easy go—that was probably how he saw it. If you slept with a man without even going out on a formal date, then why would he treat you with respect? Tamsyn swallowed. Was she doomed to follow the path laid down by her own mother, despite her determination to live her life in a very different way?
Now she stared into Hannah’s aquamarine eyes which were so unlike her own. She guessed they each carried a legacy from their different fathers—both useless in their different ways—and fleetingly she wondered whether that was why they’d both made such bad choices when choosing men. Except that she hadn’t chosen Xan—he had chosen her.
And he had done a runner as soon as possible.
She shrugged her shoulders with a familiar gesture of defiance. ‘Yes, I spent the night with Xan Constantinides.’
‘But Tamsyn, why?’
For the first time Tamsyn felt like smiling as she looked at her sister. Her pale-faced sister with dark shadows under her eyes. ‘You’re honestly asking me that? You might be a married woman now—but surely you’re not completely immune to the charms of a man like Xan Constantinides.’
At the mention of marriage, Hannah flinched. ‘No, of course I’m not,’ she said quietly. ‘And that’s precisely why he’s the wrong kind of man for you, Tamsyn. He might be obscenely good-looking and have the kind of sex appeal which should carry a public health warning, but he’s known for his...his...’
‘His what?’ prompted Tamsyn, though her heart was smashing against her rib cage because she guessed what was coming.
‘Let’s just say he enjoys women! He enjoys them very much.’
‘I wasn’t expecting him to be celibate!’
Hannah sucked in a long breath, her face growing serious. ‘It’s more than that. He usually dates actresses. Or models. Or heiresses.’
‘Not waitresses on short-term contracts who are always getting fired for insubordination, you mean?’ offered Tamsyn drily.
‘And you...’
Tamsyn watched as Hannah unconsciously rubbed her enormous gold and ruby wedding band, as if reaffirming to herself that she really was married. And once again she wondered why her sister was standing here on the first morning of her honeymoon, looking like the very opposite of what a glowing newlywed should be. Why wasn’t she romping in bed with her husband? ‘I what, Hannah?’
The new Queen chewed on her lip. ‘I know you were inexperienced with men, Tamsyn,’ she breathed. ‘And by associating with someone like Xan, you’re operating right out of your league.
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Tamsyn assured her airily. ‘I’m not anticipating any kind of future with him. I’m not that stupid.’
‘But what...’ Hannah sucked in a deep breath. ‘What if you’re pregnant?’
Tamsyn knew she didn’t have to have this conversation, no matter how close the two sisters had been when they were growing up. But in a way she did need to have it, because wouldn’t voicing her inner fears help put them into perspective? Like when you had a terrible nightmare and the shadows in the room seemed to symbolise all kinds of terrible things—yet when you put a lamp on you soon saw that the imagined monster was a chair, or a dressing table.
‘We used protection,’ she said quietly.
Hannah’s eyes were very big. ‘So did we,’ she whispered. ‘And look what happened.’
And suddenly Tamsyn was made very aware of how easily a woman could be trapped by her own passion. Hannah had accidently become pregnant by the Sheikh which was why she had married him. Who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen to her? She found herself uttering a small, silent prayer. ‘We’ll just have to hope it doesn’t happen to me,’ she said quietly.
‘And what if it does?’
‘Then I’ll deal with it. But I’m not going to project like that. I’m just going to carry on as before.’
‘Doing what?’
