The view from Harry’s apartment really was quite stunning and I stood staring out of one of the large picture windows onto the scene below, mesmerised a little by the champagne but mostly by the shimmering, glinting lights of the city spread below me.
‘Not a bad view.’ The slight whine that underpinned the aristocratic accent burst the bubble of magic. It was the voice I’d last heard making me a very easily rejected offer on New Year’s Eve. I’d described him to Jess later and apparently he was Tarquin double-barrelled something or other, an old friend of Harry’s. She’d added the word ‘unfortunately’ to the end of this explanation and it was easy to see why. ‘You should come and see mine. It’s rather superior to this.’
I glanced at him, assuming he was making a joke, but he met my eyes and there was no humour there. Unbelievably, he really was that obnoxious.
‘What?’ he asked.
I never was much good at hiding my emotions.
I shrugged, hoping he’d take the hint that I really had no interest in continuing the conversation.
‘So? Back to my place after this? You can see for yourself then.’ He smirked. ‘In fact, there’s quite a lot there that’s superior.’
Oh. My. God.
I shook my head in disbelief and swigged the rest of my fizz.
‘Is that a yes?’ This was, in theory, a question, but the manner in which he said it possessed an overtone of privileged expectation.
I turned to face him. Yep. There it was. That look on his face – one that said ‘there is absolutely no chance of me not getting my way on this’. Well, I had news for him.
‘No. That’s a no. A most definite no. What the Americans call, I believe, a hard no.’
He looked confused. ‘Are you sure?’
I felt my mouth drop open. ‘Yes. I’m sure. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life.’
‘You do know who I am?’
I know what you are, that’s for sure.
‘My father is an earl. That’s going to be my title when he off and pops his clogs. I’ve got more money than god, and I’m very good looking.’ He squinted at me. ‘Or am I just barking up the wrong tree, so to speak?’
‘You are barking up the wrong tree entirely. But not for the reasons you’re suggesting. I like men. I just don’t like you.’
With that, I grabbed a glass off a passing waitress and stalked back to where Seb was stood laughing with Harry and Jess. Unfortunately, I was followed.
21
‘Harry, old man,’ Tarquin began, cutting across the conversation and not even acknowledging Jess or Seb, as though they were beneath his notice. ‘What’s up with this one?’ He waved his champagne flute in my direction.
I’ve never felt the desire to push anyone through a window before, but this bloke was sorely testing me. Did his insensitivity and rudeness know any boundaries at all?
Harry gave me an apologetic look. ‘Nothing. She’s lovely. Why?’
‘I’ve just asked her out for a second time and she’s turned me down. Again.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Propositioning someone and asking them out are two very different things.’
Tarquin snapped his head towards me. ‘If you’re playing hard to get, you’ve blown it. I won’t ask a third time.’
I looked to the ceiling. ‘And people say there’s no god.’
Jess attempted to cover her snort by burying her face in Harry’s shoulder as Seb’s face disappeared quickly into his champagne glass. Tarquin just looked at me, a stunned expression on his face, his mouth opening and closing like a very posh fish. And then Harry burst into laughter.
Tarquin glared at Harry before snatching a glass of drink from a nearby waiter and downing a good proportion of it.
Harry, unbothered by his friend’s expression, threw an arm around his shoulder and, ever the gentleman, made the proper introductions that Tarquin himself should have done before butting in and taking over the conversation of our small group.
