Harry gestured towards one and Esther shook her head. ‘No thanks. Want to keep a clear head for tomorrow.’
‘You’re working again?’
She nodded. ‘Just my normal shift in NICU. I’m looking forward to it. I want to see my babies, and I want to see Jill.’
Harry gave a nod as the music changed. He held out one hand towards her. ‘How’s your dancing?’
‘Rave or highland?’ she asked cheekily.
He gave a surprised jerk at the spectrum. ‘I was kind of thinking of something slower,’ he said. Her hand was now in his and he pulled her closer and slid his hand around her waist.
It didn’t matter how much her brain had been screaming at her. Telling her that she and Harry weren’t a match in any sense. Her heart wasn’t listening at all. It was beating wildly at the feel of his body against hers.
His hand slid up to the bare skin at her neck and brushed some of her fine hairs that escaped from the top of her head. The touch was like butterflies on her skin, their wings flapping in a tickly sort of way.
His face broke into a smile, one that only seemed for her. ‘You okay?’ he asked.
She wanted to spill out a whole lot of answers. But she remembered him in the car, talking about his parents. The expression on his face. It was the first time she’d seen Harry looking vulnerable and less than confident.
She couldn’t offload onto him. It didn’t seem right. She licked her lips. ‘I guess I’m just seeing how the other half live.’
A frown creased his brow as he moved her smoothly around the floor in time to the music. ‘You’re not happy? Do you want to leave?’
For a second she saw his eyes scan the room, looking back to the bar where Penelope was sipping wine and talking to someone.
She stiffened. She couldn’t help it. Maybe he was embarrassed by her, tired of her, and would prefer to spend time in the company of his peers. ‘Do you want me to?’
He stopped dancing and looked down at her. ‘No. Why on earth would you think that?’
Esther’s heart felt as if it were fluttering against her chest wall. ‘I... I just...’ The words stuck somewhere in her throat. She was making a mess of this.
His hand came down and slid through her hair, resting at the back of her neck. His mouth only inches from her face. ‘Esther, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I thought you might like it tonight. Maybe I wasn’t thinking...maybe I should have—’
She put her finger up to his lips and shook her head. ‘I don’t think this is about you, Harry. I think we’re just different. Different lives, different backgrounds.’
‘Opposites attract.’ He looked her straight in the eye.
Part of her heart ached for him when she thought about what Lady Brackenridge had said earlier. But this close up to Harry, she could feel her pulse rate rising.
She couldn’t help but smile. ‘I might know a guy who told me that.’
He leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Then trust him. I think I know that guy too. He’s okay—in fact, I think he wants to take you to dinner.’
Every part of her wanted to wrap her hands around his neck and keep kissing him. But they were in the middle of a ballroom with five hundred other people; it was hardly appropriate. She leaned back. ‘He does?’
‘He absolutely does.’ Harry grabbed her hand and led her straight across the dance floor, dodging the other people and not stopping to speak to anyone. He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a one-minute call. His car pulled up moments later and he held the door open for her.
She clicked her seat belt. ‘Harry, what are you doing?’
‘Taking you to the place I should have done earlier.’
She twisted her head at the rapidly vanishing hall behind them. ‘But what about your friends?’
He shook his head, his dark eyes meeting hers, and he halted at the bottom of the driveway. ‘I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in you.’
‘Oh.’ It was the only answer she could find. The traffic was much lighter now and they crossed London easily, pulling up and parking on a street she was unfamiliar with.
He came around and opened her door again, then bent down and lifted the hem of her dress just an inch. ‘What are you doing?’ She let out a high-pitched kind of squeal.
‘Checking your shoes. How do you think they’ll do on cobbles—want me to carry you?’
She’d only had a few seconds to consider the question before he swept her up into his arms and started striding down a street just around the corner.
‘Hey!’ She let out a laugh as he covered the street easily, stopping outside a red wooden door and setting her down gently.
He knocked on the door and Esther leaned back to see the front of the building. She could see a small sign in French, along with a sign for the famous stars that were awarded to restaurants around the globe.
The door opened and a short man with a broad smile greeted them. ‘Don’t say I’m not good to you.’ He nodded to Harry.
Harry took Esther’s hand again and led her up a flight of stairs. The restaurant he led her into was small and welcoming, and completely empty.
She spun around. ‘Where is everybody?’
He held out his hands. ‘It’s ours, for the night.’
The short guy appeared again behind them and held out his hand to Esther. ‘Armand.’ He nodded his head towards Harry. ‘It seems I’m your personal chef for the night.’
Esther’s eyes widened. ‘What? No way.’
Armand gave a casual shrug. ‘What can I say? I owe him. He asks for the restaurant for the night, he gets it.’
Armand waved his hand and started to walk to the kitchen, then paused, his hand on the door. ‘Any allergies?’
Esther shook her head.
‘Anything you absolutely won’t eat?’
She shook her head again.
‘Oh good, then let me go and create for you something wonderful. Help yourself to wine, Harry,’ he shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen.
Esther shook her head and held out her hands. ‘How on earth do you get a starred restaurant for the night?’
Harry held out a chair for her. ‘The place officially closed last night for refurbishment. So I knew it would be empty tonight. The work doesn’t start until next week.’
‘And Armand is a friend of yours?’
He grinned as he selected a bottle of wine. ‘Armand actually did his first two years of med school with me. But he had a change of heart. His dream was being a chef, not a doctor, and he followed his heart.’
She watched as he poured the wine into the glasses on the table. This all seemed so surreal. She took a small sip. ‘So, how does he owe you?’
Harry made an awkward kind of sound as he sat opposite her. ‘I gave him the backing to start his first restaurant.’
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that one. She had no idea what that amount of money would have been, but she was sure enough to know it wouldn’t have been insubstantial.
‘He’s paid it all back.’ Harry gave a smile. ‘So he doesn’t really owe me. It’s just a figure of speech.’
Esther sipped the wine again and tried to ignore the little tight coil currently in her stomach. It had eased a bit since they had left Eglinton Hall.
She rested her head on one hand. ‘I can’t believe you did this.’
Harry looked surprised. ‘Why not? Don’t you think you’re worth it?’
All she could do was blink, because those words hit a whole bunch of nerves she didn’t even realise she had. It was like a chilly breeze over her skin. She didn’t lack confidence as a person. She knew she was good at her job. And she was comfortable in her own skin. But tonight, in a place that had practically smelled of money, she been distinctly uncomfortable. And Esther didn’t like feeling like that. Every cell in her body had practically told her to leave.