CHAPTER 24
Ana
The effects of the wine were wearing off, leaving a bitter aftertaste that wasn’t all physical. What had she been thinking, flirting like that? She’d crossed a line. And on the other side was Harry—her boss.
She stared at the layouts on her desk. It was no good; she couldn’t concentrate. The air in the office felt heavy, and she had the beginnings of a post-champagne headache.
She rubbed her temples, trying to focus on the photos of a footballer she’d never heard of and his wife, but her head was too full of Harry’s words, the heat in his eyes. As she remembered the touch of his hand on her arm, a jolt of electricity pulsed through her, followed swiftly by a rush of shame.
How could she let herself be beguiled by Harry? What was he doing—a married man acting this way with an engaged woman, a member of his own staff? It was completely unprofessional. And, she reminded herself, he was preparing to dump her sister in cold blood, apparently not caring a jot if Merry was in love with him. He just wanted to be rid of her.
As her eyes wandered off from her work again, she spotted a Post-it note stuck to her phone. Percy rang 3:30, ring back.
It was now past six. She punched out his number.
“Percy North.”
“It’s me.”
“Hi, gorgeous. How’s your day been?”
“Fine. Yours?”
“Busy, busy. Trying to delegate everything before I leave. I might be a bit late coming round tonight.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got to stay late myself.”
That wasn’t true. Why had she said that? Was she intending to go out with Harry, knowing what that could lead to?
“I can come round about ten?” said Percy.
“I’ve got a headache coming on. Let’s just postpone. Tomorrow?”
“Aw, I want to see you tonight!”
“No. Look, I have to go. Bye, Percy.”
“But, An—”
She cut him off.
She felt irrationally annoyed with him, though he’d done nothing wrong. Except to make her feel guilty. He’d held up a mirror, and in it was the reflection of a woman who seemed to be losing control.
This never happened. She was the Ice Queen. (Ana was proud of her nickname, even though staff had tried to keep her from finding it out.)
She really shouldn’t drink at lunchtime.
She returned to the layouts.
Ten minutes later, she still had nothing useful to say about the spread in front of her.
“Cake?”
Ana jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice behind her. She turned to see him holding two plates, each with a slice of birthday cake on it.
“Or are you on one of those pre-wedding diets? You shouldn’t be, by the way. You’re like Mary Poppins—practically perfect in every way.”
Ana rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a smile. Or the heat rising in her cheeks.
“Unlike me.” He put down the plates. “Do you know, I’ve put on almost a stone in the past year.” He looked down at his stomach and gave it a poke. “Got to do something about this.”
From where she was sitting, Ana could see nothing at all wrong with Harry’s body. Except . . . his legs were too long, his shoulders too broad, his face too beautiful.
“Fancy another game of tennis sometime?” he said. He wheeled a chair over and sat down, then broke off a piece of cake, popping it into his mouth.
She tried not to look at his lips.
“Go on, it’s great cake,” he said. “Janette made it herself.” He licked his fingers, a little too slowly and suggestively.
She couldn’t look away.
“Bye, Ana!” called Nate through the glass wall of her office. He did a double take. “Oh. Bye, Harry, good party.”
Ana glanced up, trying not to look guilty, then raised a hand.
Now that Nate had left, the department was empty, silent. Desk lamps were off, computer screens dark, chairs tucked in. Ana’s office took on a sudden intimacy.
“Megan rang, as you foretold,” Harry said. “She and Charles will be turning up soon. I’ve switched my phone through to yours. Come out with us. It’s my birthday.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him, and smiled. “You can’t possibly say no.”
The golden highlights in his hair glinted in the glow of Ana’s desk lamp.
She swallowed. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She broke off a small piece of cake and put it in her mouth. “Did you want to talk about Merry?”
“Not especially. I’ll sort it.”
Harry brought his chair closer to Ana’s. Their knees were almost touching, and she caught again the subtle scent of his aftershave. She fought an overwhelming desire to close her eyes and breathe him in.
He broke off a piece of icing. It had an A on it.
“Look. A is for Ana. Open wide,” he said softly.
His eyes were the same deep blue as the loch at Kindrummon. She couldn’t look away. She was Mowgli in The Jungle Book, hypnotized by Kaa the snake. Her lips parted, and he put the cake on her tongue. His fingers stayed still, and she closed her lips around them.
He withdrew his fingers slowly, not taking his eyes from hers.
“More?” His voice was husky.
She nodded, and swallowed.
He broke off another piece. Again he placed it on her tongue, and his pupils dilated as she closed her lips around his finger.
Her last vestiges of resistance crumbled as Harry’s finger slowly left her mouth and then traced a path down her jawline, coming to rest under her chin. He tilted her face up, and Ana closed her eyes as his lips met hers with the softest of touches.
A shock wave raced through her body. The kiss deepened, and it was like none she had ever known. It was like dancing with the devil; it was wrong, but she was helpless, her defenses breached. A tsunami of longing swept over her. Of their own accord, her hands reached up, her fingers entangling themselves in his hair, making sure he couldn’t leave, would never end this kiss.
Then the phone rang.
“Leave it,” whispered Harry.
Ana wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to pick it up. Her limbs had turned to jelly.
The phone continued to ring, and Harry finally pulled away and grabbed it.
He spoke a few words, then replaced the receiver. “Megan and Charles are downstairs. I’ll just nip back to the office.” He stood up. “I’ll meet you back here in five.”
How could he be talking like nothing had happened? Her world had just been turned upside down.
He noticed her stupefied expression and perched on the edge of her desk. He reached out, stroked her hair. “Our lives are about to get pretty complicated,” he said. “But we’ll find a way. You’re the one, Ana.”
She was grateful for the time by herself, and sat breathing deeply, trying to compose herself. But her mind was racing and her body fizzed with desire that had nowhere to go.
“Coming?” Harry was back and holding out his hand to her.
She collected her bag and went over to where he stood in the doorway. Her knees went weak at his closeness; she felt like some vaporous Victorian heroine. He wrapped her in his arms and the kiss was fierce and hungry, leaving her limp and breathless.
“Come on,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. “This will have to wait. If that’s even possible.”
“Harry, I can’t do this. I can’t come out with you tonight, not like this.”
“Sure you can. It’s my thirtieth! You can’t say no to a man who’s having a milestone.”
The lift arrived and Harry pushed the ground-floor button, then took her hand. “We should be discreet tonight, though. I think Charles may have twigged I’ve got a thing for you, but I’m not sure about Megan.”
He released her hand as the doors opened.
As Ana focused on the group of people in front of her, she received another shock. Standing in the reception area with Megan and Charles were Harry’s wife and daughter.
Katie visibly flinched as her eyes flew from Harry to Ana.
“Daddy!” cried the little girl, flying across the polished floor toward him. She was all bouncing curls and big blue eyes, and was wearing her very best dress for her father.
The night guard smiled. “Happy birthday, Mr. Rose!” he called.
“Thank you,” replied Harry, sweeping his daughter up into a hug. “Hello, Miss Maria. And what are you doing in the big city at this time of night, hm?”
“We’re going to the Hard Cafe!” she said. “For burgers!”
“The Hard Rock Cafe, darling,” corrected Katie. “We thought we’d surprise Daddy, didn’t we?”
And boy, had Harry looked surprised.
Ana thought quickly. “Hello, Katie,” she said. “I haven’t seen you since . . . oh, since the launch party. It’s lovely to see you again. Harry and I have just polished off the birthday cake his secretary made him, so I hope he still has room for that burger!”
Even to Ana, it sounded forced.
She turned to Harry. “Good night, Harry. Have a lovely evening.”
Nobody suggested she come with them.
“Good night,” he said. “Thanks for staying late to help.”
Ana was so deep in thought she went two stops past Holland Park. Coming out of her trance as the train doors were shutting, she quickly exited and made her way up the steps and across to the eastbound platform. As the trance took hold again, she stared unseeing at a mouse darting about beneath the tracks.
Moments from the day circled in her mind, in a loop that refused to pause. Harry locking eyes with her across the boardroom, raising his glass as he toasted his decade of misbehavior. His hand on her arm as he guided her away from the others. The intensity in his eyes as he trailed a finger down her face, the waves of heat rippling down her body.
A whoosh of hot air rushing out of the tunnel signaled the arrival of the train.
You’re the one, he’d said. But what had he meant? The next casual fling? More than that?
She tried to wrangle her feelings into coherent thoughts. Was it just a physical thing? Although . . . could the way she was feeling be described as “just”? It was overwhelming. Perhaps it was his power and charisma that had fired her response. Was she just flattered to be the latest object of desire? Or was she falling for the man behind the image? And what about that dangerous streak that had initially repelled her? She was still aware of it, and if he tired of her, what of her future at Rose? Or even beyond Rose—Harry’s tentacles stretched far and wide. If things went bad, he could ruin her career.
And then there was Percy. How could she be obsessing about another man when she was about to marry the love of her life? Had her feelings for Percy changed?
Percy had been everything to her, until Harry came along. Harry’s sharp wit and easy charm had somehow exposed Percy’s . . . mediocrity.
Where had that thought come from? Wouldn’t any man look a little average next to Harry? She shouldn’t compare them. Percy was thoughtful, cute, hardworking. Faithful. Harry was arrogant, entitled, a stranger to self-doubt. He was far too full of himself.
She made an effort to conjure up Percy’s image as she stepped into the carriage. But he was saying, “MD of BWG Dublin,” again.
Percy was a poseur, there was no denying it.
Harry was the real deal.
Percy was lovely but, right now, he seemed second best.
Katie
Katie knew it was finally over the second the lift doors opened. She saw the way Harry was looking at Ana. Katie knew that look, but it hadn’t been directed her way in years.
All her therapy, finally coming off the medication—it had been for nothing.
Harry’s thirtieth should have been a turning point. She’d worked through her anxiety and could now face going up to London, being out and about in society. This dinner in town, with the four people who meant the most to Harry, would be a major step back to happiness and reconciliation.
But Harry had been with them only in body. His mind had been somewhere else entirely, and she knew exactly where.
Katie remembered Ana from the launch party. She’d made such an effort to block that terrible night from her memory, but now it came rushing back. How Ana’s cool, lithe, stylish beauty had made her feel like an overheated whale. How the floaty silk dress she’d loved suddenly felt like a giant green tent.
Harry had hardly taken his eyes off Ana that hot summer night. But Ana had appeared oblivious, wholly focused on making sure the event ran smoothly.
The woman who’d appeared out of the lift was a different creature, her eyes glittering, her face flushed. And her expression when she’d seen Katie and Maria said it all.
Guilty.
Now Harry wanted to talk. He was reading Maria a bedtime story, and then would be telling Katie what she didn’t want to hear. More on the subject of “moving on,” which until now she’d managed to talk him out of.
She had a feeling it would be different this time.
“Asleep already,” he said, coming into the room carrying two glasses of red wine. “Here, we may as well help this along as best we can.”
She preempted him. “Harry, I’ve been difficult to live with, I know that. But I’m almost there. I’ve accepted we’re unlikely to have any more children, and I’m ready to focus on our relationship—”
“Stop, Katie. Please.” He sat down. “I know you’re doing so much better, and that’s why I think you’re ready to accept it’s time to move on. I’m not the same person I was when we married. I was so young, wanting to fill that space left when my parents and Art died. And you’re not the same person either—”
“But, Harry—”
“Let me finish. You haven’t been happy these past few years, you know that. You deserve another go too. I’ll always love you, but you’re more like a sister to me now. It’s over, Katie. Please, let me go.”
It was hopeless. Let me go. Katie’s world was caving in again. “I know there’s someone else,” she said as tears welled up.
Harry dropped his eyes. “There has been, yes. But it’s over now. She’s not the reason why. I think . . .” He looked up again. “Turning thirty has made me take a good look at my life. I’m going through the motions, I need it to have meaning.”
“It’s over?” Her voice was shaky. “How long was it going on?”
“It started just after Gemma’s wedding.”
“Gemma’s wedding?”
“When I first met Merry.”
“Merry? But—”
“You remember? Blond. Very blond, in every way.”
“I thought . . . the other sister.”
“What?” Harry flushed and looked away. “No, no, Ana’s my art director. She’s getting married soon, might be going to live in Dublin. Tonight, when you met her, I’d been trying to persuade her to stay.”
Was he telling the truth? Could that have been all it was? Her instincts told her he was lying, but Harry could be so persuasive.
“Katie, darling. We need to do this amicably, for Maria’s sake. But I want a divorce. I’ll do everything properly—you and Maria won’t want for anything. We’ve been through so much, I’m not going to turn my back on you.”
“But you did, when you had those affairs.” Katie wiped at the tears on her cheeks.
Harry fetched a box of tissues from the kitchen. “I didn’t instigate either of them,” he said, handing them over and sitting back down. “And they wouldn’t have happened if you and I hadn’t been having problems.”
Katie hadn’t felt emotion in a long time, thanks to her medication. But now anger took hold. “I won’t divorce you, Harry,” she said, her voice rising. “It’s against my Catholic faith. If your affair is over, we must try again. And if you can only love me as a sister—well, many marriages survive on far less.”
“For god’s sake, Katie!” The conciliatory tone was gone, and now there was only exasperation. “Stop flogging this dead horse. If you won’t agree to a divorce, I’ll move out and wait for however long it takes. Why do you have to be so bloody difficult?”
“I still love you, even after your betrayals. I’m trying to understand, to come to terms with it.” Her voice was calmer now. “My counseling training has taught me a lot. You were shunted off to boarding school, then you lost your parents and Art. I wasn’t enough—”
“Will you stop analyzing me!” Harry smacked his glass down and left the room.