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

That we share a common language and upbringing. And as time went on I found it a useful deterrent to the ambitions of other women, knowing I had an arranged marriage bubbling quietly away in the background and therefore was not in a position to offer them anything.’

      ‘But you’re a modern Greek! This sounds positively archaic.’

      ‘I am not so modern as I might appear on the surface, Tamsyn.’ His voice grew silky as he corrected her. ‘At heart I have many values which some might consider old-fashioned.’

      At this she screwed up her face, but not before he had seen the brief shiver rippling over her skin. Was she remembering how it had been between them in bed that night? When he’d experienced an almost primitive pleasure as he had broken through the tight barrier of her hymen and given an exultant shout of joy? No, he had been anything but modern that night.

      ‘And what about love?’ she challenged. ‘Isn’t that supposed to lie at the foundation of every marriage?’

      His laugh was bitter but at least now he was on familiar territory. ‘Not for me, Tamsyn. Only fools buy into romantic love.’

      For the first time since they’d started this extraordinary conversation Tamsyn experienced a moment of real connection as she recognised a sentiment which was all too familiar. She thought about her feckless mother and the way she’d hocked up with all those different men. Hadn’t that been why she and Hannah had been left abandoned and taken in by a pair of dysfunctional foster parents—because their mother had fallen in love for the umpteenth time? ‘Well, that’s one thing we do have in common,’ she said. ‘Since I feel exactly the same.’

      He gave a cynical laugh. ‘You actually say that like you mean it.’

      ‘Why, do people normally say things just to please you?’’

      ‘Something like that,’ he agreed.

      Tamsyn wondered what it must be like if everyone was tiptoeing around you all the time. Was that what made him so sure of himself? ‘So what’s the problem?’ she questioned. ‘It sounds like the perfect solution. You’ve played the field and now you’re settling down. A practical union between two people who know exactly where the boundaries lie.’

      ‘And that’s exactly what I thought—until the theory became reality and I realised there was no way I could marry Sofia.’ He met the question in her green eyes. ‘ Oh, she’s still a nice enough woman, but she is not my type Most of all, I do not desire her.’ His voice hardened. ‘And there can be no marriage without desire.’ There was a long pause. ‘Which is where you come in,’ he added, breaking into her unsettled contemplation.

      She narrowed her eyes. ‘How?’

      ‘I don’t want to hurt Sofia or tarnish her reputation by telling her I don’t want her. If I do that there’s no way her father will sell back the island, even if I offer him double what it’s worth by today’s values.’ Cobalt eyes bored into her. ‘But an acceptable way of breaking off the engagement is to explain that I’ve fallen in love with someone else and am planning to marry her instead. Which will allow Sofia the chance to walk away with her pride intact.’

      ‘You mean a fake marriage?’ Tamsyn frowned. ‘Like fake news?’

      ‘A temporary marriage,’ he amended drily. ‘With a very generous divorce settlement at the end of it. Sofia gets a dignified let-out clause. I get to buy the island and you end up with a hefty pay-out. This could make you a very wealthy woman, Tamsyn. You could have the kind of lifestyle most people only dream of.’

      Tamsyn stared at him, trying not to be swayed by the thought of all that money—but for someone who’d always lived hand-to-mouth, that was easier said than done. She thought about not having to watch every single penny. About being able to buy clothes which didn’t come from the local market, or thrift store. She thought about having food in the fridge which wasn’t past its sell-by date. Being able to take buses instead of walking all the time. Yes, it was tempting—but not tempting enough. Didn’t Xan’s arrogant certainty that there was no problem money couldn’t solve make her want to reject his offer? Because she wasn’t some commodity. She shook her curls. ‘Go and ask someone else,’ she said coldly. ‘There must be loads more suitable candidates who would happily masquerade as your wife.’

      ‘Oh, there are,’ he agreed benignly. ‘But that’s the whole point. You are so eminently unsuitable that everyone will believe it’s true love.’

      His words hurt. Of course they did. Tamsyn might have always thought of herself as someone who didn’t conform. Who swam against the tide. But considering yourself a bit of a rebel was very different to the man who’d been your first lover, saying you were the most unsuitable person he could think of to marry. Her heart clenched with pain and this time she really did want to get up from that pristine white table. In a parallel universe—she might have upended it, letting the crystal and the silver cutlery cascade to the floor in a satisfying cacophony of sound. But she’d tried that kind of approach with him once before and all it had done was made her look stupid.

      And something was keeping her rooted to her seat. She tried telling herself she should wait to see how much he was offering in return for accepting his extraordinary proposal, but deep down Tamsyn knew it was more than that. He was right. She was curious.

      ‘So why didn’t you fancy her?’ she questioned, like someone determined to rub salt into an already raw wound. As if by hurting herself, it meant nobody else would be able to. ‘If she’s so beautiful?”

      Xan stared at his lobster which had already congealed on his plate. There was no need to explain that somehow, Tamsyn Wilson made every other woman look almost tame in comparison. That he hadn’t been able to shift the stubborn memory of how her skin had tasted or how it had felt to have her legs wrapped around his thrusting hips. Why flatter her with the knowledge that she was the fire which made every other woman seem like a mere flicker? He swallowed. That kind of information was irrelevant.

      ‘Chemistry is intangible,’ he said roughly. ‘It’s not like a shopping list you just tick off as you go along.’

      For the first time during the entire conversation, she smiled. ‘You do a lot of shopping do you Xan?’ she questioned. ‘Somehow I can’t really imagine you pushing a trolley round the supermarket,. I’ve certainly never see anyone like you when I’m stacking the shelves.’

      Xan was unable to stop the brief curving of his lips in response. ‘I buy cars and planes and works of art. The purchase of food I leave to my housekeeper. But you’re trying to change the subject, Tamsyn. Is that because you find my suggestion unpalatable?’ he said softly.

      Tamsyn shrugged. She wasn’t sure how she felt. About anything. Something told her to walk away while she still could, but she couldn’t deny that the delicious food had lulled her into a state of sluggishness. And wasn’t Xan’s powerful presence only adding to her languor? Wasn’t she stupidly reluctant to turn her back and never see him again? ‘It’s a crazy idea,’ she said weakly.

      He leaned forward as if sensing a window of opportunity and suddenly she could see why he was such a successful businessman.

      ‘Imagine no longer having to work unless you wanted to. You could go back to school—you are an intelligent woman,’ he said, his Greek accent dipping into a sultry caress. ‘Imagine being able to live somewhere which isn’t a...

      Tamsyn’s shoulders stiffened as tactfully, his words faded away. ‘Isn’t a what?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said.

      Somehow his careful diplomacy was more insulting than if he’d come right out and told her she lived in a slum. ‘Of course it does! It matters to me. How the hell do you know where I live anyway?’

      He gave her an odd kind of look. ‘I had you checked out, of course.’

      ‘You had me checked out,’ she repeated slowly. ‘By who?’