As they made their way among the tables, Harry said, “That was rude, leaving her by herself. Are you pissed?”
“I think I am. It feels rather liberating. And something tells me that girl won’t be waiting long for a partner.”
They reached the dance floor, and Harry took Katie in his arms. It felt so good. She melted into his broad chest. He smelled divine, of something woody and citrusy. She breathed deeply. “Sorry, darling, about being pissed and rude.”
Harry looked down at her, smiling fondly. “Maybe you should drink too much more often. It was rather fun seeing you go into bat against Merry.”
Katie was taken aback. “I wasn’t... well, she was all over you, Harry. And she’s bloody married! And so are you!”
“Oh, she was just flirting. Anyway, Gordon lets her do what she wants. He needed a suitable wife for appearances. And they do make a glamorous couple. I’m going to feature them inHooray!It’ll be a corker.Gordon in his kilt in front of the Scottish castle, Merry in her Barbour and green wellies, strolling across the heather.”
“What do you mean, for appearances?”
“Full nickname Gay Gordon. Convenient arrangement—his family fortune, her aristocratic background. I’m pretty sure her father has a title.”
“His money marrying her pedigree? Seriously? What century are we in, Harry?”
“It’s still the way of the world. Gordon’s not about to broadcast his sexual preferences.”
“Do many people know?”
“Everyone in his circle. But otherwise he’s pretty discreet, and he’s such a good chap, I can’t think why anybody would want to expose him. And Merry seems very happy with the arrangement.”
Sinéad’s soulful voice reached inside Katie and pulled at her heart. She leaned her head on Harry’s chest again, closing her eyes for a moment.
Was everyone’s life a sham? Full of secrets and lies?
Harry tightened his arms around her and pulled her closer.
“Nothing compares to you,” sang Sinéad. But as Katie opened her eyes and looked up at Harry, she saw that his were on Merry, still sitting alone at the table, a small smile playing on her lips.
CHAPTER 10
Harry
Did you learn that in France too?” said Harry, falling back onto the sheets, a delicious exhaustion finally replacing the fire that had gripped him for the past hour. He pulled Merry’s head down to his chest and she snuggled in, drawing little circles on his sweaty skin with her beautifully manicured nails.
“Mais oui!The French aren’t at all uptight about sex,” she said. “They celebrate it. Having a mistress is de rigueur, always has been. The British could learn so much from them. I certainly did.”
“Well, that wasformidable. I salute our traditional enemy,” said Harry. “But I’d like you to stick with the British now—and just this one for the foreseeable.”
“For now,” said Merry. “You’ll do just fine, Harry Rose.”
Harry finally summoned the energy to sit up, and poured them another glass of champagne. “Toliaisons dangereuses,” he said, raising his glass.
“Salut,” said Merry.
The affair had begun precisely two days after Gemma and Jonathan’s wedding. Harry had put in a personal call to Merry (who’d slipped him her phone number while Katie was powdering her nose) and had organized to meet her “to discuss theHooray!spread.”
“I’m ready and willing to discuss aspread,” Merry had said, and the laugh that followed was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.
Harry had been standing at his office window, and as his secretary entered the room, he had to swiftly sit down behind his desk.
“Excellent,” he’d said. “I’ll have my assistant organize the meeting for later this week.”
“Tomorrow would suit,” came the reply. “Perhaps we should lunch in my suite at Claridge’s? I’m here for the week.”
Harry had paused. It was an extremely brief pause. “Right you are. Shall we say noon?”