Thoroughly Whipped

Harry’s lips twitched. “Then why was Novah holding your purse and why had your earrings been removed?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Have you been drinking?”

“Yes. Copiously. Have you?” he challenged, those friggin’ irresistible baby blues igniting with happiness again. If he was telling the truth, he certainly handled his liquor better than I did.

“Not at all. I’m stone cold sober.” God, wanting to make an example of me and the little liar I was, chose that moment to give me hiccups. I quickly covered my mouth. Harry huffed a laugh, and I edged toward him warily, not sure if he wanted me close. When I stopped a few inches away, Harry opened his arms and I fell against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I didn’t like her touching you,” I whispered.

“I didn’t either,” he confessed and kissed my head. I closed my eyes, his hypnotic breathing calming my frazzled nerves. “Every time there was an obvious innuendo to something someone said around me, I was waiting for the inappropriate punchline, but none came.”

Harry guided me away from his chest and cupped my face. It was my absolute favorite thing he did to me, and I was sure I’d be happy if he always held me this way. It would make work and other daily activities tricky, but I was willing to give it a good old college try.

“Faith Parisi, no one is you, and that is all it comes down to for me.” Before I could crack a joke, Harry kissed my mouth sweetly, turning my legs to Jell-O, and all the jokes I could muster were forgotten. When we broke away, he said, “Nothing has or will ever happen between Louisa and me. My father leaves tomorrow night. I will speak to him tomorrow. You have to trust me.”

“I will…I do,” I said and saw something that resembled happiness, then guilt, flash across Harry’s face. But when I looked again, he was the same old handsome Harry as always, and I blamed it on the alcohol. “I might go home. I can only imagine the hangover I will have in the morning.”

A knock sounded on the door again. “That’s Nicholas,” Harry said. “Let me play the clown in my father’s circus today. But know that I’m trying for us always.” He brought our joined hands to his mouth and kissed them.

“Okay.” With one last long kiss, Harry moved to the door. He stepped outside, and I followed. I heard the sound of Harry’s voice in the hallway.

When I rounded the corner, Louisa was there. She looked at me. Harry held his head high. “Louisa, this is Faith Parisi. She works at one of our New York publications.”

“Oh,” Louisa said, seemingly in relief, as though it explained why Harry had come after me. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Faith. I adore your hair.”

I saw Harry fighting a smile, knowing I would never be able to bitch slap someone who’d complimented my hair. I’m joking, of course I would. But she seemed sweet, and if Harry was telling the truth, she was as unwillingly tangled in this King-manufactured web as he was.

“Nice to meet you too.” I looked behind me, feeling awkward. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ve had a bit too much of the vodka.”

“Have a good day, Faith,” Louisa said, and Harry walked away with her. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.

Deciding I really did need the bathroom, I headed down the hallway only to stop short when King Sinclair rounded the corner. I narrowly avoided bumping into him which, given my inebriated condition, was a miracle.

“Oh, hello, Miss Parisi,” he said, clearly as uncomfortable about our meeting as I was.

“Mr. Sinclair.”

King looked over my shoulder. When I followed suit, I saw Harry and Louisa disappearing back into the box. “They look good together, don’t they?” he said, pulling my attention back to him. I didn’t say anything. I knew he knew about Harry and me. I was well aware there was nothing positive to say right now.

“Harry has always known how his life would go, Miss Parisi. Certain expectations come with the territory when you are born into the nobility and will inherit a title. You must behave in a particular way, be educated through certain channels, and marry well.”

He checked the buttons on his suit. “Louisa is from a good family and has known Harry all his life. We always knew it would be a good match, her parents and I. In marriage.”

I felt my heart begin to shred, layer by agonizing layer. I wanted to open my mouth and rip this prick a new asshole with my venomous tongue, but something kept me rooted to the spot; something kept me silent, stealing my courage. “Harry is twenty-eight now. He will take over all of HCS Media soon, and then he will marry.”