pigeon returning to its master. He wrapped an arm about her neck, all but strangling her as he dragged her from the office and through the hallway towards the lift.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘All these walls are making me antsy.’
‘You’ve been inside ten minutes at most.’
His grip loosened enough so that he could look down into her face. ‘Mmm,’ he said, his voice a distant rumble. ‘Too long.’
Something in his tone made her wonder if he was talking about his drought of sunshine or his year away from her side. Either way, it was good to see him too.
Emma hustled Harry to the lift. She knew by the disturbance of sighs following in her wake that Harry was bestowing grins all around.
Gracious? Benevolent? Giving of his precious time? Yeah, right! She knew that he would be lapping up the fact that he was likely receiving those smiles back in kind from her many young female co-workers.
Once at the lift, she pressed the down button and was surprised when the double doors gave way instantly. But when she saw Tahlia inside the lift hastily fixing her hair and smoothing out her clothes, she knew that her other best buddy had been summoned by Keely.
Emma crossed her arms. ‘What a surprise to see you down here.’
Tahlia looked up, her cheeks glowing pink. ‘Oh. Well, I borrowed Keely’s industrial sized stapler,’ she said, waving it in Emma’s face as proof, ‘and she emailed to say she needed it. Urgently.’
Tahlia’s gaze skittered back and forth between Emma and the man behind her. Emma wondered whether she should punish Tahlia and simply not introduce Harry, but it would only cause more questions than it was worth.
‘Tahlia Moran, I would like you to meet my old friend, Harry Buchanan.’
Tahlia practically curtsied. ‘Harry. Of course. Congratulations on the enormous success of Harold’s House. It is a supreme example that innovation can still be achieved with the medium. An Internet search engine aimed entirely at under-eighteens. Brilliant!’
Emma couldn’t help but grin. Tahlia was such a sweetheart. Such a hard worker. So entrenched in the fabric of WWW Designs. In her capacity as Director of Sales, she was the public face of the company. Emma worried about what would happen if WWW Designs really did come under serious threat. Though she had been one person never to become embroiled in Raquel’s ‘special assignments’, her friend’s fall would be so public.
Harry gave Tahlia a brief nod but said no more. Funny. For a guy who usually lapped up female attention as if it was drinking water, the bestowal of praise for his outstanding success seemed to be something he could not simply charm his way through. It was actually kind of adorable.
‘Later, T,’ Emma said, waving her friend away and stepping into the lift.
‘Have fun, Emma,’ Chrystal called out, leaning so far over the reception desk Emma could make out the colour of her bra. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’
Emma took Harry by the hand and dragged him into the lift with her. She did all she could to hide her blush. If she followed Chrystal’s advice she and her Harry would be in for a wild time.
CHAPTER TWO
GIRLS’ NIGHT IN WITH THE PRINCESS BRIDE
‘As she wishes? That princess has no idea how lucky she is,’ Keely said. ‘The most romantic thing my first boyfriend said to me was, “What would you like to watch on telly?”’
ONCE Emma was finally able to extricate herself from the WWW Designs building she walked Harry quickly away from the riverside boardwalk, past the long run of funky restaurants and hip cafés, and around the corner into the maze of car parks and parklands behind the office building.
The letter in her briefcase burned in her mind and she wondered if she should show Harry. But it was a private letter, one even she should not have seen, so she decided to let it simmer in her mind for a while longer before involving anyone else.
‘So where are we going in such a hurry?’ Harry asked. ‘Are you luring me into the bushes for a reason?’
‘You wish,’ she said, but she slowed only once she knew they were out of sight of the many beady eyes watching them through the tenth-storey windows. Spying a park bench, Emma led Harry to it and sat, dumping her briefcase on the ground at her feet.
‘Now let me have a look at you,’ Harry said, taking her by the hands as he gave her a steady once-over. ‘Let’s see how my little princess has aged.’
Emma faced her very best friend, the person who knew her better than any other, and the man who had held her heart in his hand for over a decade. Harry stared right back, his usual unsuspecting smile glinting in his beautiful hazel eyes. She had to look away lest her terrible poker-face disclose how overwhelmed she felt on seeing him again. Instead she focused on the play of light and shadow on the leafy ground as she waited for a mixture of comments about wrinkles, crow’s feet and other signs of old age.
But all he said was, ‘You are looking spectacular, princess.’
There was an intensity to his voice that had Emma’s gaze swinging back to his. But she must have imagined it. He was grinning from ear to ear, his face full of pride, just like the big brother he considered himself to be.
Letting one hand go, he reached out and took a handful of her straight blonde bob. ‘Very sophisticated.’
He gave it a little tug before letting the hair slip between his fingers. Emma suppressed a delicious shiver but she could not stop herself from tucking the now swinging hair safely back behind her ear.
‘And you haven’t changed a bit,’ she said. ‘I swear you were wearing exactly the same clothes when you drove off a year ago.’
Harry looked down and grinned. Grabbing the flaps of his jacket he opened them up, revealing a fitted white T-shirt clinging to the despicably well-formed chest beneath. ‘I think you’re probably right.’
‘How you get by looking like that I’ll never know.’
‘I’ve never had complaints from the ladies before.’ He smiled so wide she caught sight of a sexy pair of sharp canines.
‘I am a lady, so consider this your first. Please let me take you shopping while you’re here,’ Emma begged.
‘Sure,’ he said, thankfully covering himself back up. ‘Now you are such a sophisticate, maybe you finally can teach me a thing or two.’
‘Are you insinuating I never could before?’
He shrugged. ‘Well, you are younger than I, and less worldly-wise. What good is it having an older friend unless they can teach you the ways of the world?’
‘Please,’ she scoffed. ‘What did you ever teach me but how to get into trouble?’
‘Moi?’ he asked, his expression mortified.
‘So you want a list? Okay. I can count cards with the best of them thanks to your tutelage the summer I turned fifteen. You taught me how to hotwire a motorbike when I was nineteen. The first time we met you gave me a red apple you had stolen from the next door neighbour’s tree.’
‘It had fallen into your yard,’ he argued.
‘The tree was ten feet from our fence! Ruling out a freak hurricane, that was a physical impossibility.’
‘Okay then. I am a bad influence. Should I leave now, head hung in shame, never to disgrace your door again?’
Even said in jest the suggestion made Emma’s mind mist over red. She reached out and grabbed his hand, tucking it tight between her own. ‘Don’t even joke about that, Buchanan.’
His smile shifted, lost some of its fashioned charm, and Emma felt the sounds of the park