One Night in the Orient

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One Night in the Orient Page 2

by Robyn Donald


  Siena’s eyes widened. Adrian had been angry about the situation, but he’d accepted her handling of it. “He was fine.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as defensive as she felt.

  Apart from a subtle narrowing of those coolly watchful eyes Nick’s expression didn’t change. “A rather muted response, surely?”

  For him it would have been; even as an adolescent he’d been protective towards two small girls.

  But Adrian was nothing like Nick. Adrian would never make love to her as though she was the only woman in the world, then leave the next morning without a word of explanation beyond a few curt phrases of apology for getting carried away.

  Adrian wouldn’t break her heart.

  “Not everyone has your killer instinct,” she told Nick with a taut smile. “Adrian knows I can deal with my own problems.”

  Nick leaned back in his chair and let his gaze rest a moment on her ring finger. Siena had to repress a weird instinct to hide it protectively under the table.

  Relentlessly he demanded, “So you walked out of a situation you should never have had to face, with nothing more than your wages, then decided to hop on a plane and meet your parents in London?”

  She said cheerfully, “You must be a mind-reader.”

  His smile was sharp, its humour almost mocking. “No, I happen to remember a wilful, determined child with a big heart. What do you intend to do once you get back home?”

  “Find another job, of course.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Give me credit for some intelligence,” she said coolly. “I have extremely good references, both from my previous employer and the rat who propositioned me. And while I worked there I learnt a lot about landscaping as well.”

  Nick nodded. “Your mother told me you’d planned the makeover of their garden. You did a good job—it looks superb.”

  Hiding her pleasure at this, she said, “Gardening’s always been fashionable in New Zealand, and Auckland is a great place for it. Almost everything grows there.

  As well, the recession has produced a huge surge of interest in being as self-sufficient as possible. Think vegetable gardens and home orchards. I’ll find a new position—a better one.”

  “Still the same confident little thing,” he said in a tone tinged with irony. “Tiny and bossy and infuriatingly persistent.”

  His summing up of her character stung. Producing her sunniest smile, she said, “Remind me to get a reference from you—it can only help.”

  “Any time,” he said laconically. “So, having walked out of your job and on a point of principle donated money you should have put in the bank to a charity, it was an entirely logical decision for you to come to England?”

  “It’s Mum and Dad’s thirtieth anniversary,” she explained.

  He looked surprised. “They didn’t mention it when we had dinner together.”

  “You know my parents.”

  His arrogant features softened a little. “Yes. They wouldn’t have wanted any fuss.”

  “We were going to have a party at home—just a small one—and then they planned just to fly over for their dream cruise, but they got a really good deal from one of the big travel firms, with a tour of the UK thrown in first. They weren’t going to take it, but Gemma wouldn’t have been able to make the party—she’s in Australia doing a big promotion for a fashion week there—so I persuaded them to go. And then I decided to come across for the actual day.”

  He nodded. “And how did your fiancé feel about that?”

  “Adrian?” She glanced across, met his burnished green gaze and felt a twinge of sensation in the pit of her stomach. Swiftly she said, “He thought it was a brilliant idea.”

  “Clearly a very accommodating man.” Nick’s voice was sardonic.

  Siena returned crisply, “Adrian comes from a big family in the South Island. He understands family dynamics.”

  Too late, she remembered that Nick came from a dysfunctional marriage, and flushed, furious with herself. She was so foolishly conscious of him she couldn’t even organise her thoughts.

  Nick gave her a narrow smile. “And I don’t?”

  “I wasn’t referring to you.” She apologised. “I’m sorry—it was a crass comment.”

  “But entirely correct,” he drawled. Once again he glanced down at her ring. “So when is the wedding?”

  “We haven’t settled on a date yet,” she said, “but almost certainly in the spring next year.”

  He looked curious. “A long time off. Are you living together?”

  “No.” The heat in her cheeks flared up again. Her thoughtless comment had been returned with interest and cool deliberation.

  Nick looked over her shoulder and rose to his feet, his expression well under control.

  Expecting her parents, Siena was surprised by the woman who stopped at the table, but only for a second.

  As Nick got to his feet she realised this had to be his latest lover.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ASSAILED by an emotion perilously close to jealousy—no, Siena corrected hastily, envy—she took in the newcomer’s tall blonde beauty with something like resignation.

  “Nicholas,” the new arrival said in a modulated voice. “You see, I wasn’t away long.”

  “Portia, this is Siena Blake,” he said negligently, and introduced her.

  A pale, expert gaze appraised Siena’s blue silk. Appraised—and then dismissed it as a chain store irrelevance. A spark of rebellion lifted Siena’s chin a fraction.

  Nick finished the introductions. “You met Siena’s parents a couple of nights ago,” he told the newcomer.

  The blonde said smoothly, “I remember. Your fellow New Zealanders.” Dismissing them too, she gazed down an aristocratic nose at Siena. “So you and your sister are the—” Her brow crinkled a moment before she laughed softly and directed an arch, long-lashed glance at the man beside her. “I think the words Nicholas used were ‘the nearest things I have to sisters.’ Is that right, darling?”

  “When I was young, yes,” Nick said.

  Siena stopped herself from casting him a swift look. Although his tone was perfectly pleasant she detected an edge to it she hadn’t heard before.

  He finished, “However, it’s been some time since I thought of either Siena or her twin as sisters.”

  “And I’m sure neither of them ever thought of you as a brother.” Portia’s voice had lowered and she smiled at him.

  It wasn’t exactly a possessive smile, nor an openly desirous one, but there was a proprietorial gleam mixed with the feminine appreciation. And it cut through Siena’s composure like a sword.

  What’s happening to me? she thought worriedly.

  Not that she blamed Nick’s lover. Several inches taller than the blonde woman, his black head gleaming in the lights, Nick radiated the cool, leashed assurance Siena always associated with him—as though he could take on the world and win.

  Which was exactly what he had done—and on his own terms.

  He looked at Siena, his eyes hooded. “Both Siena and her sister considered me an intruder.”

  Lighten up, Siena told herself. It took an effort to produce a soft laugh. “Especially when you tried to teach us chess.”

  His grin flashed white. “I was endeavouring not to remember that.”

  “I’m sure you were an excellent teacher,” Portia said a little abruptly, as though somehow Siena had cast aspersions on his intelligence.

  “Siena beat me,” he told her.

  “Because you let me,” Siena objected.

  She recognised the smile he gave her—amused yet tinged with cynicism. “For the first half of the game, yes,” he conceded. “After that I was desperately trying to regain ground.”

  Portia produced a tinkling little laugh. “And was your sister a prodigy too?”

  Nick said, “Gemma was definitely not into board games.”

  He glanced up as Siena’s parents returned, their arrival followed by a flurry of congratulations. In
answer to a glance from Nick a waiter glided up to take his order for more champagne, and while that lasted they all made conversation.

  Eventually he and Portia went back to their table out of sight. Strung tense as taut wire, Siena forced herself to lean back in her chair and look around the room.

  “How lovely to see Nick again,” Diane said once they were safely out of earshot. “He was such a tightly buttoned boy I used to worry about him, but things have worked out so well for him.” She patted her husband fondly on the arm. “Thanks in no small measure to you, Hugh.”

  “He’d have got there by himself,” Hugh said confidently. “What we did for him, I think, was to show him what a happy household was like.”

  Surprised, Siena said, “Do you think so? I wouldn’t have thought he’d seen enough of us to do that. From what I remember he spent most of his time doing boy things with you.”

  Hugh shook his head. “Oh, he knew. Nick’s always been extremely astute. When his parents’ marriage ended his father was awarded custody at first, then somehow his mother regained it. Shortly after that the father died. I thought it was interesting that Nick never spoke of him.”

  Diane said quietly, “He did—once—to me. In a chilling, very adult way. He told me he’d never allow himself to be like his father. I wondered if his father had beaten him, but he didn’t react like a child who feared physical harm.”

  Siena was horrified. Her comment to Nick about family dynamics couldn’t have been more unfortunate. “Do you think he beat Nick’s mother?”

  “Possibly,” Diane said.

  Shocked, Siena tried to reconcile this new information with what she knew of Nick. Somehow—by osmosis, perhaps—she’d absorbed knowledge that his family hadn’t been a happy one, but her parents had never discussed him and she’d had no idea his childhood had been traumatic.

  Had that trauma something to do with the shattering end to their—their what? Romance?

  Hardly. Although she’d prayed it might become one. Ever hopeful at nineteen, she thought grimly. Not a romance and neither had it been an affair, because that implied something more important than several weeks of flirtation followed by one night together.

  One-night stand she refused to accept. It had been—at least on her side—more than that. She’d been so sure she was in love with him.

  Interlude, she decided.

  Yes, that fitted the situation perfectly—reduced it to insignificance.

  Her mother broke into her thoughts with an inconsequential remark. “It’s time Nick got married. He was—what?—thirty in October?”

  “In November,” her husband informed her.

  It figured, Siena thought—Scorpio to the core, she’d bet. Dark and dominant, controlling a passionate nature with a will of steel. Her skin tingled as she remembered.

  Diane paused before saying, “I hope Portia isn’t what he has in mind.”

  Siena could only agree. The woman seemed cold—cold to the core.

  However, she said lightly, “I’m sure you can leave it to Nick to choose the right woman for him. Now, are you two going to dance again?”

  “I’m not—not right now, anyway. But you are,” her mother said briskly. “I’m going to repair my lipstick in the wonderful cloakroom they have here, so you two can enjoy this one.”

  The evening progressed very pleasantly; carefully keeping her gaze well away from the foliage that hid Nick and his lover, Siena watched her parents take the floor. She danced with her father again, and her parents told her all about their short tour.

  She despised herself for noticing that Nick and his Portia didn’t dance.

  Eventually Hugh noticed her hide a yawn. “You must be jet-lagged. I wish you could have found a room in this hotel.”

  “Dad, I couldn’t afford to sleep in the boot cupboard here. I’m so glad you decided to splurge all the way with this trip.”

  Her parents laughed. “This is the only night we’re spending here,” Diane admitted.

  Siena said easily, “Enjoy it! My hotel might not be anywhere near as opulent as this, but it’s perfectly comfortable.” She got to her feet and gave her father a quick hug. “I’m only going to be there tonight and tomorrow night—I’m staying in Cornwall with Louise until the end of the week, and then I’m heading home.”

  “Such extravagance,” her mother said fondly, hugged in her turn. “But it was so lovely to see you—a wonderful surprise! I just wish you could come with us on this cruise.”

  “Don’t be silly—you don’t want anyone else on your second honeymoon.” Siena grinned. As yet her parents didn’t know she’d thrown in her job, and by the time they got back she fully intended to have a new position. “Enjoy it to the full, and I’ll see you in a month!”

  “I’ll come down and see you into a taxi,” her father stated firmly.

  Siena hid a smile. Like Nick, her father was innately protective, and she wasn’t surprised when her mother immediately decided to accompany them.

  Unfortunately Nick and his girlfriend chose that time to leave, and Nick’s offer to take her back to her hotel put her in an awkward position.

  “No, thanks, I’ll be fine,” she said, wondering if the icy chill coming in waves from Portia’s direction was real or merely a figment of her too-active imagination. Whatever the other woman had planned for the rest of the evening, it most definitely didn’t involve giving Siena a lift anywhere. And Siena definitely didn’t want to play gooseberry.

  So she said firmly, “Thank you for thinking of it, but it’s not necessary. What on earth could happen to me in a London taxi?”

  Nick shrugged. “Where’s your hotel?”

  When she told him he said, “It’s on our way.” He nodded at the hotel forecourt. “And there’s the car.”

  He travelled in style. If Portia hadn’t been standing frostily by, Siena might have teased him about the large, discreet limousine and uniformed driver that waited for them.

  Once she’d have done just that, but Nick now was different from the boy she’d known, the man who had shown her just how intensely wonderful passion could be.

  And then left her.

  “Nick, dear, that’s wonderful of you,” her mother interposed. She smiled at Portia. “So kind.”

  Siena knew when she was beaten. So did Portia, who sketched a thin smile in response.

  Fortunately Siena’s hotel was a mere five minutes’ drive away. She could be polite for that long—and so, she learned, could Nick’s lover.

  But the atmosphere was not conducive to small talk, and she was glad to get out. “Thanks so much,” she said firmly, hoping Nick would take the hint. “Goodnight.”

  However, he escorted her to the hotel door. “What are you doing after your parents leave?” he asked.

  “I’m sightseeing tomorrow, and the next day I’ll take the train to Cornwall to stay with an old schoolfriend for a few days,” she said, oddly discomposed.

  “When did you become engaged?”

  The abrupt change of subject startled her into looking up. “Several months ago.”

  His brows met above the arrogant blade of his nose. “No one told me.”

  Siena blinked. It sounded like an accusation, but before she could respond, he went on, “Is this Adrian anyone I know?”

  “Adrian Worth. His family have a station in the South Island high country.” Old money, and a lovely set of relatives. And a very nice, honourable man.

  “The name sounds familiar,” he said, and left it at that. With a cool smile he nodded and bent his head. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her?

  He did, a swift peck on her cheek, dropped in place only to be immediately forgotten, she thought, her heart thudding unevenly in her ears when he straightened. “Sleep well,” he said.

  Siena couldn’t control a startled blink. Nick’s narrow smile was something. Somehow it roused an excitement she didn’t even want to think about. She felt as though she’d been dipped in champagne.

  No, she thought c
ynically, not champagne. The very best brandy—dangerous, delicious and far too potent …

  “Goodnight,” she managed, and crossed the lobby, feeling the impact of his gaze between her shoulder-blades.

  Through the closing lift doors she saw him turn and go back to the big car and the woman who waited for him.

  Presumably they’d end the evening in bed together.

  Stop being so prying and intrusive, she thought bleakly while the lift eased to a stop. She had no right whatever to speculate about Nick’s love affairs.

  His private life was just that—private.

  Or as private as he could make it with paparazzi following him around.

  She spent a restless night, tossing in an unfamiliar bed, listening to traffic, wondering why she wasn’t more excited at being in London. Perhaps because at night it was impossible to distinguish between traffic in London and Auckland—a lonely sound in both places.

  Eventually she managed to drop off to sleep, only to wake later than she’d planned. A day’s sightseeing lay ahead, so she scurried around and left the hotel, intending to grab breakfast and coffee somewhere on her way.

  It was a busy day, one she enjoyed. It was only on her way home that she realised she hadn’t checked her email. Sitting on the top of the double-decker tourist bus, she flicked her phone open and scrolled through, feeling guilty when she saw one from Adrian.

  It took her only a moment to read it, a moment in which the noisy buzz of traffic faded into the sound of her heart drumming in her ears.

  I’m so sorry. I’m a complete coward for doing this by email, but I don’t know how to tell you I’ve fallen in love with someone else. It’s not your fault, and I feel awful about it, but I can’t help it. Please forgive me. You can’t think any worse of me than I do myself. I wish you every happiness.

  And he was hers sincerely, Adrian.

  Siena sat in numb, incredulous disbelief, her gaze locked on the screen as Adrian’s words danced crazily on it.

  An aching emptiness brought a swift, cold spurt of tears. Shivering, she fought them back, trying to tell herself that it was just as well he’d found out now instead of waiting until after they’d married.

 

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