Page 67 of Wife After Wife

Harry shook his head and sighed. “Ana—it’s important to me that you understand.” He looked around again and noticed people noticing them. He stepped back a little. “I need to talk to you about it. Can I drop by your office later?”

Ana regarded him steadily, and her dark eyes sucked him in. Every part of him, every cell, was buzzing with desire.

“OK. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t drop her gaze.

“Percy,” he said finally, attempting to get a grip. “When’s he off to Dublin?”

A cloud crossed her face. “Soon. He’s lined up some places to view. Dublin’s expensive, but the agency’s being generous.”

“So... you’ll be visiting at weekends?”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to seeing Dublin. At weekends.” Her voice was flat.

“I hope all this isn’t affecting your wedding plans? Not the greatest timing by BWG, was it?”

“The plans are coming along just fine. And the way I see it, we’ve got a lifetime ahead of us, so if a little of that is weekends only, that’s OK. Hopping on a plane will be exciting. And I guess it’ll keep things interesting. We won’t turn into one of those couples who eat dinner in front ofCoronation Streetevery night.”

He smiled. “Ana, I can think of nothing lovelier than snuggling up with you on the sofa. I’d gladly suffer a soap of the north for that pleasure.”

“Oh, I should warn you,” said Ana, ignoring his comment, “Megan has plans for tonight.”

“I thought as much. Whatever it is, I hope you’re coming along.”

“It’s just close friends and family, I think.”

Harry dropped his voice. “Come. You can’t deny me on my birthday.” Her eyes told him she understood the double meaning. “I’d better circulate now; Mia’s looking daggers at you. I’m surprised you can’t feel them. I’ll drop by later.”

“OK, I’ll look forward to it.” She smiled before turning away.

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?