‘Dinner seems a long time ago.’ He grinned at her, putting the tray down and gesturing towards the puppy in her lap. ‘She’s adopted you. Sensible puppy.’
Gina grew hot. It was absolutely stupid to be so affected by the soft warmth in his voice, but she couldn’t help it, in spite of knowing this was Harry in flirt mode. It didn’t mean anything, not to him at least.
Drawing on the iron self-control that had got her through the last months since that Christmas kiss, she said flatly, ‘Hardly sensible. I’m leaving at the weekend for good, and a puppy definitely doesn’t feature on my agenda.’
He handed her her tea and offered the plate of toast. She took a triangle, not because she really wanted it, but more to give herself something to do. She had never felt so vulnerable and exposed in all her life.
‘You’re sure you want to go?’ he said after a moment or two had ticked by.
Want to go? She had never wanted anything less. ‘Absolutely,’ she said firmly. To add weight to her words, she looked him straight in the eye, steeling herself to show no emotion as she said, ‘And we had this conversation during dinner.’
He nodded. ‘I wasn’t convinced then either.’
‘I thought I’d made it clear, I need to leave Yorkshire.’
‘Ah, but need isn’t necessarily want.’ There was a significant little silence as he fixed her with a hard, meaningful look. ‘You’ll be miserable in London,’ he declared authoritatively.
‘Thanks a bunch. Some friend you are.’ Sarcasm was a great hiding place.
‘You told me I wasn’t a friend.’ His eyes mocked her. ‘What exactly am I, Gina? How do you see me?’
She didn’t like the way this conversation was going. He was playing games, probably just to kill a few minutes as far as he was concerned.
Fighting for composure, she took a deep breath and lifted her head. She smiled thinly. ‘You’re my boss’s son.’
‘Ex-boss’s son,’ he returned drily. ‘OK, what else?’
‘You’re very good at what you do—accomplished, experienced.’
‘Thank you,’ he said gravely. ‘What else?’
‘Does there have to be more?’
‘I should damn well hope so.’ He paused and studied her face. ‘As a man,’ he said quietly. ‘A person. Do you like me?’
‘You shouldn’t have to ask that, we’ve worked together for just over a year,’ she said weakly.
‘My point exactly. And I would have termed us as friends. You, on the other hand, would not. So I’m beginning to realise I don’t know how your mind works, which means I perhaps don’t know the real Gina at all. In fact, I’m sure I don’t. I didn’t know you had a lover somewhere in the background, for example.’
His eyes were tight on her, questioning. Rallying herself, and aware she was as taut as piano wire, she said coolly, ‘Forgive me, Harry, but I don’t remember you discussing your personal life, either. Any part of it. Whereas you know about my family, friends—’
‘Not all of them, obviously.’
Ignoring that, she continued, ‘My childhood, my youth, my time at university—I’ve discussed all that—whereas you’ve been … guarded.’
There was an awkward silence. He stared at her, all amusement gone. ‘Yes.’ His voice sounded odd. ‘I have. I was. But for what it’s worth I’ve never told anyone the full story about Anna before. Apart from my parents at the time I left the country, that is. Does that count for anything?’
She looked down at the toast in her hand. Her heart was a tight ball of cotton wool in her throat, choking her. ‘I didn’t mean I expected you should have necessarily talked to me, just that you can hardly take me to task for the same thing.’
The silence stretched longer this time. ‘I appreciate that,’ he said at last.
It was still quite dark outside the windows; the rest of the world was fast asleep. It added to the curious sense of unreality which had taken over her. The puppy stirred in her sleep, grunting and snuffling, before becoming quiet as Gina began to stroke her again.
‘So you can’t be persuaded not to go?’
His voice had been husky, and as Gina raised her head she saw his face was dark, brooding. ‘Of course not,’ she said bleakly. ‘It’s not feasible. Everything’s been arranged. I’ve got to move out of my flat Saturday morning; I wouldn’t even have anywhere to live.’
‘You could use my spare room till you find something else.’
There was something in his eyes that made her feel suddenly light-headed and treacherously weak. Painfully, she said, ‘I’ve got a job in London, a flat. I couldn’t let people down. Anyway, the reason I wanted to leave in the first place is unchanged.’ It was. It was. This sudden interest on his part was all about sex, plain and simple. But it wouldn’t be simple where she was concerned. It would be horribly complicated.
‘I hadn’t been to sleep when I heard you come downstairs,’ he said suddenly.
Her throat felt dry. She took a sip of the tea before she could say, ‘I was worried I’d woken you.’ She was prevaricating; she knew it.
It appeared Harry knew it too. ‘Don’t you want to know why?’
She couldn’t answer, and it was a moment before he said softly, ‘It was the thought of you just a couple of doors away.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Inane, but the best she could do.
‘I like you, Gina.’
The atmosphere in the room had changed several times in the last minutes, now it was thick with an electricity that quivered in the air.
She couldn’t speak, her only movement her hand on the puppy’s silky fur as she continued to stroke it, her eyes fixed on the little body.
‘I realised tonight I don’t want you to leave Yorkshire.’
Taking all her courage into her hands, she raised her face and looked straight at him. She had to kill this stone-dead, right now. The agonies of mind she’d endured over this man had brought her to the inevitable conclusion that she had to walk away from him, and that had not changed. Sooner or later she’d be old news. The only difference was, if she went sooner rather than later, she would still have her self-respect. ‘I don’t do one-night stands, Harry,’ she said flatly, her pain making her stiff.
‘I wasn’t talking about a one-night stand.’
‘Yes, you were.’ She moistened dry lips. ‘Perhaps a series of them, but essentially that’s all an affair would be to you. You told me yourself, that’s all you can offer a woman.’
She saw anger flare in the beautiful grey eyes. ‘I don’t want the full domestic-scene, admittedly, but that doesn’t mean I’m quite the heartless so-and-so you’re painting. I’d like to show you that you can find fun and happiness after this guy, if nothing else.’
‘How noble.’ Suddenly she, too, was furiously angry. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’
‘You’re not listening to me.’
‘Oh, I am.’ If the puppy hadn’t been in her lap, she would have liked to empty her mug of tea straight over his unfeeling head. ‘Believe me, I am. Out of the goodness of your heart, you’ll take pity on me long enough to take me to bed a few times. About right?’
His