fell. Jack owed her no loyalty. And it was all true, mirroring how she saw herself.
As Libby and Jack discussed the first half of the show, Harley offered Alex a tight, polite smile, her face flaming. ‘Excuse me.’
Alex frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I—’
She almost comforted him; he seemed so contrite.
‘No problem.’ She forced her facial muscles to relax. Her blood pounded hot. Spreading fire. Whatever Jack had said about her to his cousin, she didn’t need to hear. ‘I need to check things backstage.’ She made to sidestep away from the group, away from the awkward exchange that had brought all her insecurities to the surface.
Despite the front she presented to the world, deep inside her self-esteem was shaky at best. Her undiagnosed dyslexia, a lifetime of never quite fitting in, even at home, and years of listening to her tactless and selfish father had shredded every scrap she possessed.
That was why her ‘projects’, as Hall called her business enterprises, carried such importance. They represented a chance to feel pride in her hard work. A chance to make a difference.
She’d barely moved when Jack’s hand found the small of her back, his fingers pressing with possession. She shot him a look, his own expression unreadable as he stared at her over the rim of his glass.
Harley smiled for Libby and made her excuses. He might have set her body alight, showed her the good time he’d promised, but he didn’t own her, didn’t even know her. And she owed him nothing.
She wasn’t that naïve schoolgirl any longer. She understood how the world worked, how people used each other, wrecked lives for a few minutes of selfish pleasure. She could compartmentalise sex. And she and Jack hadn’t even shared that.
As she wove her way backstage she made a vow. Tomorrow, she’d set her dreams back a few months and start looking for another piece of real estate for her beloved school.
* * *
Fuck, he’d blown it.
Harley had disappeared. He’d waited for her to emerge after her show but there’d been no sign of her. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? Why hadn’t he had a better explanation ready for his inquisitive cousin? He should have known Alex would put it all together—sharp, astute bastard. He bit back another curse.
Alex and he had attended the same university. Their bond more akin to brothers than cousins. Alex had witnessed first hand the fallout from the abrupt, unexplained end of his relationship with teenaged Harley, his first relationship. And he knew all about the bad business, the rift that tore his and Harley’s families apart.
Without Alex’s friendship, he’d never have weathered his parents’ divorce, nor the financially turbulent years that had followed as everything his father had worked for had crumbled. If it hadn’t been for his mother’s family money, they’d have even lost their home.
A lead weight settled in his gut. It had seemed as if he’d thrown Harley under the bus. But any composure he might have displayed as his past and his present collided had been shot to pieces by the sight of her at the fashion show.
From the moment he’d arrived at the glamorous event she’d been on his mind. Instead of scoping out the guests for a beautiful and sophisticated distraction as he’d planned, he’d replayed the vision of her pleasure, rapt and clinging to him, her glorious mouth swollen from his kisses and her cries of ecstasy echoing around inside his skull, until the catwalk show had blurred before his eyes.
Then an inexplicable burn at the back of his neck had forced him to turn around. And there she was. As immaculate as ever but cloaked with an air of vulnerability. He’d watched her, shadowed in a dark corner, his whole body shocked into nerve-tingling life. A quick scan of the previously untouched programme in his lap and he’d slotted all the pieces together.
And then Alex had correctly guessed that the woman on the end of the Morris deal was the one that got away. No, ran away. He knew his cousin just as well as Alex knew him and Alex’s searching stare spoke a thousand words.
Her face at his cousin’s playful jibe haunted Jack—he’d supplied the ammunition to embarrass her over the botched contract. He’d never seen her anything but composed.
He clenched his fists. She’d looked as if she’d taken a blow to the chest. She’d shuttered the flash of hurt behind her huge luminous eyes, shot him a fuck you look and swanned away with a sway of her sexy ass.
He understood that the Morris Building, her plans for it, formed a personal crusade, but surely someone in her team should have spotted the clerical error his lawyers and hers were currently untangling. Didn’t she have a scapegoat to blame?
He slammed out onto the landing. Why did he even care that she’d been humiliated? Why was he so knotted up over this? He never allowed personal to interfere with business. Perhaps it originated in his persistent sexual frustration—he’d failed to get laid, despite a steady stream of interested looks from the abundant women here tonight.
But once he’d seen Harley again, he hadn’t been able to muster one tenth of the enthusiasm she inspired. Perhaps the revenge fuck idea carried more merit than he’d acknowledged.
He snorted out his frustration. He’d go home, have a second cold shower and try to wipe Harley from his mind.
But at the top of the stairs, he halted.
She stood on the next landing down, her focus on the phone clutched in her hand as she paced, worrying at her lip. He slowed his stride, taking the stairs at an easy pace while he willed his heart rate and breathing into submission.
He paused three stairs above her. At least he’d have a chance to apologise for Alex’s clumsy comments. He should never have mentioned the Morris deal to his cousin—business indiscretions were beneath them both.
‘Libby loved your collection.’
Harley looked up, her hand flying to her chest.
He should have coughed, warned her he was there. He offered an apologetic tilt of his head. ‘She said you understood real women’s bodies.’
She recovered quickly, cold eyes darting away to street level.
‘Thank you.’ She glanced back down at the screen of her phone as if he weren’t there. He deserved that—he should have been more circumspect. But he’d voiced his frustration to Alex before he’d discovered it was Harley behind the Morris deal.
And he owned his mistakes, big and small.
‘I’m sorry about earlier... Alex.’ A shrug. ‘I’d mentioned my latest deal was held up because of an oversight. I didn’t know of your identity at the time.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She shook her head, a humourless grin on her face as if she expected nothing less. ‘I’m used to making mistakes and paying the price. And who you choose to gossip with is none of my business.’ She glanced down the stairwell, her bottom lip taking another punishing.
What the fuck did that mean?
‘I don’t gossip. I discussed a stalled deal with a business colleague.’
And he’s an insightful
