One Night in the Orient Read Online Free PDF Page A

foyer, tell him she couldn’t go out to dinner with him.
    She would, she thought tautly, be extremely boring company, and he’d probably only asked her because he knew her parents were leaving and she’d be alone.
    In effect, he’d behaved just like the brother he considered himself to be.
    Nick saw her as soon as he entered the foyer. She hadn’t noticed him, and something about the way she was sitting made him frown, and quicken his pace. A friend had once described her—patronisingly—as “a taking little thing”. Tiny and black-haired, with eyes so blue they were a startling contrast to her porcelain skin, she certainly looked doll-like—except for her mouth. Lush, sensuously curved, her mouth was a delicious miracle made for smiles—and kisses.
    Now it was pinched, and set in a straight line. She was holding herself stiffly, warding off an invisible blow. Nick swore under his breath and increased the length of his stride.
    It was impossible to link Siena with the word defeat, but that was how she looked—as though she’d been knocked to the ground so roughly she couldn’t be bothered getting up again. And she certainly wasn’t dressed for dinner.
    Her parents …?
    “What’s the matter?” he demanded from two strides away.
    She blinked as though she didn’t recognise him. Then with a brave attempt at her usual spark she said, “Oh, a couple of things, but it’s not the end of the world.”
    Nothing had happened to Hugh and Diane, then. Hiding his relief, he said more moderately, “So tell me.”
    The hands in her lap tensed. No ring, he realised.
    What the hell—?
    She said, “Well, I think I mentioned I was going to stay with a friend in Cornwall, but that’s off.”
    Nick listened to her explanation, nodding when she finished. “So what are you going to do?”
    Her white teeth dented her curved bottom lip. Nick’s gut tightened in spontaneous appreciation of that succulent mouth. Damn it, asking her out had been a bad idea; he should never have succumbed to the questionable impulse.
    Getting to her feet, she said in a rigidly controlled voice, “I’m trying to get a flight back home.”
    “And?”
    “So far no luck, but I’ll keep at it.” Nick frowned. “So you’ve got a week to spend in London?”
    She shook her head. “No.” “Why?”
    “Can’t afford it,” she admitted, lifting her chin to give him a direct glance that glittered a challenge. “I have to go home.”
    Now was not the time to press her about the absence of her engagement ring. He owed it to her parents to make sure she was all right. “We can discuss your options over dinner. Come on.”
    After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head. “I’d really rather not, Nick. I’m not dressed—”
    “It’s all right. We’ll eat at my place.”
    He saw her waver and felt an odd, irritating triumph when she nodded.
    “Very well,” she said quietly, as though too tired to protest further. But once she got up she made a final objection. “Nick, I’m probably not going to be very good company.”
    “Why?”
    “Oh, nothing important.” Her voice was stronger, more like the Siena he knew.
    You’re lying. And you’ll tell me what’s going on before the evening’s out,
he thought. The Siena heremembered wouldn’t have let a change in plans affect her like this.
    She said, “I’ll go up and get changed. I won’t be any more than ten minutes.”
    “You’re fine the way you are,” he told her.
    After giving his suit a brief glance she said with a return to her usual tone, “I’ll change.”
    Shoulders held very erect, she walked across the foyer towards the lift. Although small, he thought, his loins stirring again, she was in perfect proportion. Well-worn jeans showed off slim, elegantly shaped legs, and the clear pink thing she wore on top marked every curve of breast and hip, and the narrow allure of her waist.
    He wasn’t the only one watching her. The receptionist, a boy not long out of his