One Night in the Orient

“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 cynically, 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.