Page 81 of Wife After Wife
“Well, Rose won’t be losing Ana because she’s dating the boss. OK? Get used to it and move on.”
“Right you are, boss. Message understood.”
Harry hoped it was. It might be business as usual, but he knew how sensitive Ana was about any implication her meteoric rise was down to anything other than talent and hard work.
“Nate, darling, come and shake your delicious booty with me,” said Terri.
“My pleasure. Lead on, Macduff.”
Harry and Ana were as alone as they were likely to be in the next hour or two.
“Come back to the flat with me tonight.”
“And spend Saturday in this?”
“Definitely. I think you should wear it every day, in fact.”
“It has to go back to Versace.”
“So I’m not allowed to rip it off?”
“No. Slow unzipping will do just fine.”
Harry went quiet for a moment, then took her hand again, holding it in his lap.
“Right now, I’m in danger of another wholly indiscreet show of affection.” He stroked her palm. “What shall we do about this, Ana?”
Her eyes, their gold lids glistening in the dim nightclub lighting, held his, and it was like being sucked into a whirlpool.
“Dance?”
“Yes. Dance.”
All eyes were on them as Harry led her to the dance floor.
They kept a respectable distance apart as they moved to the heavy beat of New Order. Ana’s dress flashed in the disco lights as she danced sinuously, feeling the music.
If he didn’t touch her soon, he’d implode.
Then “Last Christmas” came on, and he pulled her into his arms. In her heels she was almost as tall as him. He looked into her eyes, and it took an enormous force of will not to kiss her again, to resist obliterating every last millimeter of space between them. “Let’s go after this one.”
“Harry, you’re the boss, it wouldn’t be right. Let’s give it another hour.”
It was the longest hour of his life. They separated after the slow dance, then spent time mingling, Harry trying not to look at his watch.
Finally they were out among the Christmas throngs of Leicester Square, looking for a taxi. The atmosphere was infectious, people singing, wearing tinsel, kissing people they shouldn’t have been kissing.
“What’s in there?” Harry asked, noticing Ana’s oversized handbag.
“Tomorrow’s clothes,” she said with a grin.
“Oh really? Did you think I’d be so easy?”
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. The noise and bustle of Leicester Square faded away and there was only Ana; her soft lips, her silky hair, her body warm as he slipped his arms inside her open coat.
“I want to look for a taxi, but I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he said.
“Find a taxi and kiss me some more.”
