‘Come with me,’ he said when they stopped at a set of lights during the drive to her place. ‘To Italy.’
Harriet’s head whipped round, his offer clearly having thrown her. ‘I can’t do that,’ she said at last. ‘People at work will talk.’
‘They don’t have to know. I’ll go into the office on Monday and say you’ve come down with a bad case of flu. I’ll say I’ve given you the week off.’
He could see that she was tempted. Seriously tempted.
‘I don’t know, Alex,’ she said slowly. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘Well, I do. You can come to the wedding with me, then afterwards I’ll take you to Venice for a couple of days.’
‘Venice,’ she repeated, her eyes going all misty. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Venice.’
The lights went green and he drove on. ‘Then let me take you there,’ he said.
She shook her head at him. ‘You are a wicked man, do you know that?’
‘It has been said of me before. But I don’t think it’s wicked to offer to take you to Italy with me. You’ll love Lake Como.’
‘I dare say I will. I’ve heard it’s very beautiful. But I won’t go to the wedding with you. I wouldn’t be comfortable doing that. They are your friends, Alex, not mine.’
Alex knew when he’d pushed things as far as he could.
‘Very well. I’ll book you into a nearby hotel on the lake whilst I’m doing my best man act. You can do a few touristy things by yourself that day. Then, after the wedding, I’ll join you and we’ll go to Venice together.’
‘Won’t that take longer than a week?’
He shrugged. ‘Not much longer. Look, as things stand I won’t be back by next weekend. I don’t know about you, but I’ve enjoyed this weekend more than even I envisaged. I love your company, Harry, in bed and out. Come with me. Please...’
Harriet didn’t speak again for a full minute. ‘I should say no,’ she said. But there was a smile in her voice.
He grinned. ‘Possibly. But you’re not going to. You’re going to fly first class with me to Italy.’
‘No,’ she replied with a firmness which shocked him. ‘I’m not.’
Before he could give vent to his frustration, she added, ‘You can fly first class, but I’ll be in economy. I wouldn’t feel comfortable having you pay that much money for my flight.’
‘But I can afford it,’ he told her.
‘I don’t care what you can afford. I will not be bought, Alex. I’m not that kind of girl.’
‘Would you compromise by going business class?’
She heaved a resigned sigh. ‘I suppose that would be all right. But I will be paying for my own ticket. I also want to pay half of all our hotel expenses. And before you object, I assure you, I can afford it. I’ll just use the money I saved up for my wedding. I only lost the deposit on the reception venue when I broke up with Dwayne, so I have plenty left.’
Alex frowned. ‘But surely your parents were going to pay for your wedding?’
Her laugh sounded bitter. ‘My parents and I are estranged,’ she told him. ‘They wouldn’t have come to my wedding even if I’d invited them. Which I had no intention of doing.’
Shock at this statement was quickly followed by curiosity.
‘What on earth happened between you?’
‘My father happened, that’s what,’ she stated with a bitterness which stunned him.
Alex recalled her telling him something at her interview about her father losing his job when she’d been a teenager, which was why she’d had to go out to work instead of studying. He’d been a miner up in the Singleton area. But that was all he knew about her family.
‘He was a pig,’ Harriet bit out. ‘A male chauvinist pig.’
Whoa, Alex thought. They were pretty heavy words.
‘What did he do?’ Alex asked.
‘What didn’t he do?’ she threw at him. ‘First, he thought women were only put on this earth to wait on him hand and foot. Mum and I were treated like servants. Never with love or caring. My brothers were spoiled rotten, whilst I got nothing. He bought them everything they wanted, whereas I was given only the barest essentials. I lived in second-hand uniforms and clothes. If it hadn’t been for gifts from relatives, I would never have had anything new.’
Alex could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d been critical of his father at times, but he was still a loving parent. What little money he’d earned, he’d given to his children.