Although it was a rhetorical question, Thea answered with the first thing that popped into her mind. “Lie back and think of England?”
Thea’s mum had jokingly told her that one during her birds and bees chat when she was a teenager. Of course, she’d tried to play the idea of sex down. Making it sound like a chore, but the secret stash of racy novels she kept under her bed contradicted her mum’s words. The summer Thea had found them was her most memorable.
Felix snorted. “I was thinking more of, keep calm and carry on.”
Thea swallowed, her gaze staying on the jostling pack ofmen and women at the foot of the staircase. As a young girl, she dreamed of being a movie star—of being trailed by cameras or turning up to a film premiere on a handsome actor’s arm. She’d always imagined the attention would be glamourous. Exciting. But at this moment, the group resembled a pack of hungry dogs waiting to pick over a pile of bones.
“Is it okay? Will you come with me?” he asked, his sage green eyes boring into her.
“But they don’t want pictures of me. And I have nothing interesting to say.”
Felix squeezed her hand. “In that dress, anyone would want a picture of you. But you don’t have to say anything.”
Thea chewed the inside of her cheek. At least if someone took her photo, nobody would recognise her. With her hair and makeup transformation, nobody would ever guess that underneath lay Thea Fox, Tottenbridge’s answer to Doctor Doolittle. Besides, Ammy would love to see her mum in the paper. She had a scrapbook full of clippings from whenever Small Oaks Sanctuary appeared in theClavenham Chronicle.
Thea nodded grimly, and with a smile, Felix guided her towards him, placing a hand on the small of her back. The shock of his warm skin on hers reminded Thea of how tiny her dress was, and as they followed Gemma across the room, her mouth grew drier. A waiter passed by carrying a tray of full glasses, and she fought the urge to grab a couple and head back to the lift.
As they walked, heads turned. People looked at Felix at first, but then their gazes fell on Thea. They quirked their eyebrows. Each nod in her direction, each appraising stare kicked her heartbeat up a notch. Thea’s heart pounded like a kettledrum by the time they made it to the staircase.
When they arrived, the waiting gaggle straightened up. After some initial hand shaking and nods from Felix, more eyes settled on Thea. And the barely there dress she wore. Her skinprickled as the murmur of conversation increased, and cameras and smartphones hovered in their direction. Thea gave a tiny pull on Felix’s hand.
He turned his head towards her. After a moment, he raised a palm to the waiting press, holding them off.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice a whisper in her ear.
“Ammy just sent me a text. She’s having trouble getting to sleep. I need to speak to her.Now.”
Thea’s last word had Felix’s brows drawing together. He ran his eyes over her face, and she held a breath. He’d remember she didn’t have her phone with her. After wishing Ammy a goodnight, she’d left it upstairs in his penthouse. He’d know she was lying. That she wanted an excuse to get away.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
Felix stroked a thumb over her knuckles, nodded, and then smiled. With one last squeeze of her hand, he let go and walked into the throng. Alone. From the edge of the crowd, Gemma gave her a tight smile before following her boss into the fray.
The group of press engulfed them like a wave, forgetting Thea. She stepped back and let out the breath she still held. He’d understood. This time, when another waiter passed, Thea didn’t hesitate to take advantage.
She took a glass and walked to the edge of the ballroom, stopping beside a large window that overlooked the river and The Tower of London. It was odd seeing the greying fortress through the glass as if preserved in a museum. So many awful things had happened there in the past, but right now, she’d happily volunteer to be locked away safely inside its solid stone walls.
Thea tipped back her champagne glass, emptying it, hoping nobody noticed. She couldn’t imagine “binge drinking” was the look Felix was hoping to present to the world. And because she was with him tonight, she was part of his image. Part of the Walsh Group brand. Thea swallowed down a bitter taste.
With a weight on her chest, she turned to find him. It took her only seconds to spot him in conversation with a slick-looking man in a midnight blue suit. He held a smartphone to Felix’s lips and nodded along with him. Her lover was working the room like a pro.
The next second, Gemma was at his side, guiding him towards a serious-looking woman who shook his hand. Felix gave her a bland smile, all businesslike and formality. As she asked him something, though, the corners of his mouth curved higher. He replied to the woman before lifting his head to find Thea. The intense, blistering look he sent her almost melted her knickers. He hadn’t searched. Hadn’t checked the room. He knew exactly where she was, as if he’d been watching her the whole time.
Thea’s heart skittered, and she reached for her scrunchie, finding only bare skin. But as if her thoughts had transferred to him through telepathy, Felix reached for the green fabric at his wrist as he spoke to another journalist.
Thea smirked and shook her head. He was a man of many talents. Not only was he strong and silent, but he was also a mean omelette maker who had a high pain threshold and superior tongue skills. Now, she could add mind reading to the list. Was there anything he couldn’t do?
Thea collapsed backagainst one of the outer pillars of the ballroom, the cool of its plaster calming her hot skin. She’d spent the last thirty minutes with Felix, working the room like a good little corporate wife. She’d shaken more hands than she could count, made idle small talk about grandchildren, European holidays, and skiing in The Rockies, and upset one woman when she admitted she didn’t know who’d designed her dress.
Felix had been gloriously attentive. He’d held her hand all the way around the room. Had made glowing introductions, describing her as a philanthropist and not an owner of a troupe of evil geese. And then, in the quiet moments before yet another introduction, he’d described, in great detail, how he was going to undress her later.
The corners of Thea’s mouth curled. He’d put a lot of thought into it. She was half tempted to break the emergency glass on the fire alarm so they could leave the party early and get down to the undressing. It was a wonder that Gemma hadn’t picked up any of their conversation. But his assistant had probably viewed the spa corridor footage and formed her own ideas about Felix and Thea’s relationship. She was still third-wheeling them like a mother hen, but Thea had escaped for a breather and a fresh glass of bubbles.
She stood on the edge of the crowd, admiring the beautiful people. But all she could think of was curling up with a giant glass of red wine on her couch back at Small Oaks. Everyone would be fast asleep by now. Ammy, Josh and Kitty. Well, there was every chance Kitty would be up and awake, dealing with a gymnastic performance from the jiggly baby she was carrying.
She stretched her spine. The masseur had been right. “Cocktail back” was a thing. Even her feet ached. With the heat of the room pressing in, Thea reached down and rubbed the back of her ankle.
“Hello there.” A familiar, nasal voice made Thea’s skin creep.
