Глава №7. Пречистенка – архитектурный заповедник Москвы. Андрей Монамс

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СКАЧАТЬ office. Hope you don’t mind. Though you could have done a girl a favour and taken your time in coming back.’ Chrystal kissed her fingers. ‘Magnifico!’

      Emma stared back at Chrystal, searching the minefield of scattered thoughts of lawsuits and threats and panic for a way to decipher Chrystal’s words. And then a voice from the past, a voice rich with experience and humour, the voice that had been echoing in her head and keeping her from real work all day, said from deep within her office, ‘That can’t possibly be little Emma Radfield, can it?’

      Emma looked up to find six feet of heaven in a battered leather jacket and low-slung jeans leaning against her desk. ‘Harry!’

      ‘Come here, you luscious length of woman, you.’

      She didn’t need to be told twice. She threw her pink folder on to a nearby chair and leapt into Harry’s waiting arms, grabbing fists full of the back of his ancient caramel-coloured jacket, her cheek rubbing against the supple collar, giddily breathing in the familiar scent—fresh air and sunshine mixed with something decidedly male, decidedly Harry.

      ‘You’re early!’ she noted, but she was so happy to see him she could barely stop grinning.

      He held her at arm’s length, his hands keeping a gentle grip on her shoulders. ‘And you’re different,’ he said.

      Understatement of the year, Emma thought, but she bit her lip and let him play his game.

      He twirled her back and forth, held her wrist to his ear to check her pulse and shook her a little as though trying to place the change. ‘What could it be?’ he asked. ‘I just can’t put my finger on it.’

      Hair that has been waist-length for ever now chopped into a slick bob? The last remains of my puppy-fat gone by way of power Pilates? Usual tomboy uniform of jeans and T-shirt replaced with a black suit that looks as though it has been sewn on? All somewhat proving that I am anybody but little Emma Radfield.

      ‘Nope,’ he finally said. ‘Must have been a trick of the light.’

      Oh, he’d noticed, all right. Emma could see it in the barely there furrow of his brow. Though she could tell he didn’t quite know what to make of it yet, he had noticed.

      ‘So how are you?’ she asked with a bright smile. ‘Mr big time CEO. I didn’t know if you would come this year now that you are such a busy big shot.’

      ‘Aw, shucks,’ he said. ‘You know me. Gracious. Benevolent. Giving of my precious time.’

      ‘Not so giving of your precious time that you could make it to my surprise birthday party.’

      Harry winced. Bullseye!

      ‘I tried, babes. Really I did. But…circumstances kept me away. Yet here I am now, as always, choosing to spend all the free time I can wangle with you.’

      ‘As opposed to…?’

      ‘Basking on the beaches of Acapulco, getting to know the local girls—’

      ‘Oh, diddums. Life’s tough.’

      ‘You have no idea,’ he said, smiling, but Emma knew there was a kernel of truth to the words. He wasn’t yet thirty and yet with Harold’s House he had created a modern day marvel, a masterpiece, a powerhouse. Now the question on everyone’s lips in the Internet biz was: what was Wonder Boy Buchanan going to do next? It was a hard act to follow, especially for the man himself.

      ‘And you also have no idea how much I missed you, kiddo,’ he said, smiling into her eyes.

      ‘Me too, Harry,’ Emma said, her throat closing up.

      With a thick growl, Harry once again took her in a great bear hug, lifting her off the ground as if she was a doll, not five-foot-six of digital animator who enjoyed a daily white chocolate macadamia cookie as much as the next girl.

      Emma revelled in the feeling of swinging through the air as he twirled her about. That was until her flailing legs caught a hold of the edge of her office chair, sending it crashing to the ground in a mess of screeching metal and spinning wheels.

      Her office door crashed open and a familiar face peered in. ‘What on earth is going on in here?’ Keely asked, her eyes twinkling.

      Emma fought back a laugh. Keely was six months pregnant, which was a happy little miracle, but it was also making her more forgetful as the months progressed. Always one to tuck a pen behind her ear, her hairdo now had several pens tucked into and about it. She was a walking stationery case. Keely folded her slim arms atop her slightly rounded tummy.

      Emma scrambled out of Harry’s arms and straightened her twisted black trouser suit. Harry hid behind her as much as a guy double her size could. Emma shot daggers at Keely with her eyes, waiting until the sound of the spinning wheels of the office chair slowed and stopped.

      ‘Um, Harry, this is Keely Rhodes. Keely, this is Harry Buchanan.’

      Keely’s face said duh as her lips said, ‘Nice to meet you, Harry.’

      Emma only hoped that Harry was not so understanding as to what Keely’s expression gave away—that Emma had been a basket case all day—well, all week really, awaiting his arrival. Emma pulled away from Harry and moved to push her nosey friend back out the door.

      ‘You promised to let us know as soon as he arrived,’ Keely whispered through clenched teeth as she jabbed a finger at her silent mobile phone. ‘A quick text message would have been fine. You didn’t need to break any furniture in a fit of passion.’

      Emma glanced over to Harry but he was blithely oblivious to their conversation as he picked up the heavy chair with one hand and tucked it under her desk.

      ‘Though I have to say; now I totally get your years of pining. He’s swoon-worthy, Em.’

      ‘And you’re engaged,’ Emma reminded her.

      ‘Engaged, yes. But blind to the allure of a hot guy? Never!’

      ‘Get out now,’ Emma quietly demanded.

      Good deed done, Harry followed them to the door and reached around Emma to shake Keely’s hand. ‘It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Keely.’

      Emma groaned inwardly as Keely gave Harry a detailed once-over, taking in his too-long hair, weather-beaten jacket, jeans with the knees almost worn away and scuffed boots, all which did little to cover the fact that this was one superb specimen of Australian manhood.

      ‘I assure you, Harry,’ Keely purred, ‘the pleasure is all mine.’

      Having borne the brunt of such obvious female attention ever since Emma had known him, Harry just grinned, generating his lady-killer smile, guaranteed to melt a pair of female knees at fifty paces. He then tucked himself in behind Emma once more, resting a casual hand across her hip, and Emma had to stop herself from leaping away from his feather-light touch. She had long since learned to control her instincts when it came to Harry’s effortless, yet entirely innocent, caresses.

      He rested his chin on her shoulder. She could feel his warm breath tickling at her ear. ‘So are you two partners in crime?’ he asked. ‘Sharing secrets and lipstick? Shopping together for sexy underwear—’

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