Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

Okay, calm down, Ash. The guy’s asked to get you a champagne from a free bar; it’s not a marriage proposal. I push a smile to my face. ‘Yeah, great. Why not?’ It’s as non-committal as an acceptance can get but my stepmother doesn’t get the memo. She claps her hands approvingly as we walk away.

‘She’s planning our monogram,’ I mutter, shaking my head, earning a laugh from Angus. His hand in the small of my back feels weird. His hand is different to Theo’s. Long slim fingers, somehow slighter and less...confident? Less authoritative, certainly.

‘I think you’re probably right.’

‘So your parents are friends with mine?’

‘They play cards.’

‘My dad plays cards?’

‘I think it’s just an excuse to drink whisky, but yeah.’

My smile is over-bright. I shouldn’t be surprised. There is an entire catalogue of things I don’t know about my father, and vice versa. I’ve taught myself not to be upset by his disinterest in my life, and I gave up a long time ago on wondering what I could fix within myself to make him love me. Dad’s Dad. He’s set in his ways, and those ways include keeping me at a distance. This is just another example of the chasm that stretches between us.

The party is taking place in a private room at the Plaza. Waiting staff mill around, distributing canapés, elegant jazz fills the air and the bar is serving only the best alcohol. I accept a new champagne gratefully, finding the anaesthetic properties helpful in getting through this kind of event.

Despite my place in this life, I’ve never really enjoyed soirees like this. ‘I heard a rumour you’re in line to become CEO at the next board meeting.’

I slant a glance at Angus. ‘I’m pretty sure you heard wrong.’ My voice betrays the rivalry, given the way we’ve been pitted against one another since birth. But that rivalry is only a small part of me. I feel sympathy for Joshua too, sympathy at the expectations that have almost drowned him. It’s fascinating to see how differently we turned out, given that he grew up with an excess of expectations and I was diminished by a shocking lack of any.

‘Your appointment would make you the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500.’

I arch a brow. ‘You’ve done your research.’

His smile is quite charming, in a preppy schoolboy kind of way. ‘Always.’

He’s flirting with me. I frown as that same burst of guilt travels the length of my spine once more. But I’m not doing anything wrong, and neither is Angus. Theo isn’t my boyfriend. He’s not even really my lover. We don’t linger over long nights together, sensually discovering each other. We appoint a time, meet, screw, then leave. He’s a fuck buddy, his purpose in my life as clearly delineated as mine is in his. Besides, talking to Angus gets me out of having to circulate. I catch Caroline’s eye about half an hour later—she’s watching us with a smug smile on her pouting lips.

I’m tempted to end the conversation just to thwart her expectations, but by now Angus is talking about an archaeological dig he went on in Cairo during his grad degree and, since I’m truly interested in that experience, I stay where I am, ignoring the fact I’m making my stepmother so blissfully happy.

Eventually, though, I realise the crowd has thinned. ‘I’m going to have to call it a night.’ I look at my watch, surprised to see it’s almost midnight.

‘You’re sure? There’s a bar around the corner...’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘I have a conference call with Tokyo. It was nice talking to you.’ I’m even more surprised to realise I mean it.

‘Same.’ He lifts a hand to mine and a shiver—not the good kind—runs down my spine. Because this definitely feels wrong. It’s not, though, I remind myself. Theo knows the deal. We’re not a couple, we’re not dating. And Angus is just being friendly.

‘I’d love to see you again. Any chance you’re free for a drink later this week?’

‘A drink?’

He nods. ‘You know, a beverage in a vessel. A bit like this.’ He nods towards my champagne glass.

I roll my eyes. ‘Sorry, I just didn’t expect...’

‘Seriously?’

‘No, I—’

‘I’m sorry.’ He shakes his head apologetically. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.’

‘You’re not. I don’t.’ The sense of guilt is an excellent reason to accept his invitation. What I’ve got with Theo is a no-strings affair that’s going nowhere. I can’t pass up a chance at a real relationship because the guy I’m sleeping with might object. It would be weird not to accept. Angus is handsome, nice, he’s made me laugh a couple of times. Definitely worthy of further exploration.

‘So I can call you?’

I reach into my clutch and pull out a card. ‘Text me,’ I clarify. ‘I’m in and out of meetings. It’s easier.’