Page 68 of Wife After Wife

“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.

Thisneverhappened. 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 onalmost 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 anAon it.