Harrison cleared his throat and sat up from the embrace, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I suppose we’d better get ready. We don’t want to keep father waiting. Plus, I am absolutely dying to see what you look like in that dress you bought.”
“Oh, babe, you have no idea,” teased Clarice as she scooted off the bed and headed for the bathroom. “You would swear this dress was made just for me, it fits so well. It’s a conspiracy!”
“Or maybe it’s just fate,” winked Harrison. “The gods of Indonesia knew you were going to need something smashing to wear for a night out in high society.” Before she could pass by, Harrison pulled her close into his chest and kissed her head.
She put her hands on his gorgeous sculpted chest. “I sincerely hope the gods of Indonesia have much better things to do with eternity.”
Harrison laughed, kissed her once more, and then released her with a little pat on the ass. Clarice gave him a look of mock disdain and disappeared into the bathroom to begin her routine. She kicked Harrison out into the living room before she got too far, insisting that he not see her until she was completely ready.
When she finally emerged from the bedroom, Harrison was fully dressed in his tailored tuxedo. His broad shoulders and trim waist made him look at once both attractive and dangerous, and all the darkness of his suit contrasted against the bright blue of his eyes.
As soon as he saw her, though, his mouth dropped open. He stopped fidgeting with his cufflinks and just stared.
Clarice grinned. She knew she was going to be irresistible. Trudy had nearly cried when she came out of the boutique dressing room in the body-hugging, ankle-length sheer gold dress, accented with sweeping gold sequins that resembled the unfolding wings of birds, acting as both décor and practical cover between her legs and across her breasts. Bits of skin covered in simple sheer gold, peek-a-booed out in seductive shapes. When she moved, the dress glittered around her curves and sent light dancing across the room. The vintage look of the dress inspired her to put her long black hair up in finger rolls, and paint her lush lips with bright red lipstick.
Judging by the look on Harrison’s face, she had greatly succeeded in her quest.
“Holy mother of God, Clarice,” he said. “You look absolutely stunning.”
Clarice blushed. “It’s all because of you. This is the dress I found shopping.”
“I can’t take credit for any of this.” He came close to her, awe in his expression and something deep in his eyes. “You are simply the most stunning woman I’ve ever met, Clarice, and it’s not because of this dress.”
Clarice blinked up at him, momentarily speechless by his show of emotion. She swallowed against a tight throat. “You’re sweet to say that, Harrison. Thank you.”
He lifted up her hand and gave it a kiss. “Thank you. Every single man at the party tonight is going to wish he was me.”
Harrison wasn’t wrong; the roomful of partygoers did stare at her like they wanted to be on her arm, and Clarice had no idea how to feel about it. Some vain part of her loved the attention, and loved being by Harrison’s side, if nothing else, but it certainly was a strange experience. Besides, she was pretty sure at least some of the people were staring more at him, than her.
Trudy and the girls weren’t coming to this event, sadly. They all had different plans with men, and Clarice was glad they were getting the most out of their vacations, but she did miss their smiling faces. Nevertheless, the night was dreamlike and wonderful as soon as Clarice and Harrison stepped into the high-ceilinged ballroom. The full band on-stage had just launched into “Begin the Beguine”, and couples swayed softly on the polished dance floor. All around the open dance space, big round tables were arranged for the dinner service, and guests were already enjoying their meals, the air abuzz with conversation.
The Moores waited for Clarice and Harrison at the VIP table separated from the guest tables by a small dais and few steps. When he saw them approach, George rose and clapped, beaming at Clarice so hard that she couldn’t help but smile back at him with everything she had. He was infectious.
After dinner was served and eaten, both Harrison and his father insisted on having dances with their respective ladies. “Moore men simply cannot abide hiding such stunning women back at the dinner table,” said George.
Clarice looked to Harrison with a smile. “Is that right?”
Harrison gave her a shrug and a smile. “He has a point.”
“Well then, in keeping with tradition…” She offered Harrison her hand. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you about my lack of skills.”
He smiled and steered her to the ballroom floor. The band launched into a slow ballad, and Clarice tucked up against Harrison’s strong chest as he led them across the dance floor. It wasn’t long before he was pulling her into him completely, and she rested her head on his chest while he kept a hand on her back.
“This is so beautiful,” she said softly.
“It really is a lovely time, isn’t it,” agreed Harrison. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“And this dance is simple enough that even I can do it,” she joked.
“Well, this is just a slow dance, don’t get cocky.”
Clarice gave him a look. “If we weren’t surrounded by fancy people, I’d bite you right now.”
“I dare you to do it anyway.” There was a glint in his eye that made her almost believe he’d like to see that.
“Oh, do you?”
“Do it, tough guy.”
So she did, right on his chest, and Harrison had to swallow his surprised cry when he felt it. A few close couples gave them weird looks, anyway, and they quickly danced towards another part of the floor as they tried to stifle laughter.
“I honestly can’t remember the last time I had this much fun,” said Clarice. “I’m really glad you decided to ask me to be your pretend wife, Harrison. This week has been amazing.”
Harrison smiled down at her and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “It’s me who has you to thank. You’ve completely pulled my ass out of the fire, and I owe you an empire for it. And I have to say, it’s been a very long time since I’ve had this much fun, either.”
“That can’t be right,” she said. “You live in paradise.”
Harrison shrugged. “Things are never as simple as they look. But I really mean it.”
Something shifted in his mood right then. The light in his eyes seemed to dim, and sadness descended over his handsome face. The smile faded out. The way he stared at her, his eyes tracing all the features of her face, it was almost like he was afraid.
Clarice’s chest tightened around her heart as she licked her lips. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. She realized they had stopped dancing, and Harrison was just standing there, staring at her silently.
“Harrison?” She squeezed his hand.
He blinked finally and swallowed. “I’m sorry, Clarice.”
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“I have to excuse myself,” he said. “I feel a bit ill.”
He did look pale. Clarice put a hand on his forehead. “Did you eat something? Oh my god, was it something we all ate?”
He took her hand in his and kissed it. “No, it’s not that. Here, let me escort you back to the table.” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but led her through the still-dancing crowd, back to where the Moores sat chatting with each other. He gave her hand a squeeze, but said nothing else before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Clarice returned to her seat feeling a little flush and pale. Mrs. Moore noticed almost immediately, to Clarice’s horror.
“Dear, what has you so shaken?” asked Vanessa, leaning across the table. “And Harrison, too; is he ill?”
“Uh,” said Clarice, looking out over the crowd of happy dancers for any sign of Harrison. “I’m not sure, he excused himself very suddenly. He may have had a phone call, that thing is always on vibrate even when I tel
l him to turn it off.” She let out a laugh she knew sounded far too nervous.
Clarice had no idea what had happened to Harrison; she only knew the moment had left her shaking and unsteady, her stomach twisting in knots. It was like something big was building in her heart that wouldn’t be contained much longer, and she was terrified it would crush everything in its path.
She picked absently at the rich chocolate cake that arrived for dessert while the band played on. Mr. and Mrs. Moore sauntered out for another dance once their champagne was done, leaving Clarice alone at the table to catch her breath and her thoughts. She looked around again for Harrison, but all the faces in the crowd were unfamiliar and far away. She was aching for him, she realized. The way he had hurried off, so clearly upset, had upset her as well.
She already cared deeply for Harrison, she realized. She didn’t want to see him that way.
The Moores returned with a wave of applause for the band washing behind them. Only a few seconds later, Harrison cut through the crowd, a look of determination on his face as his right hand fiddled at the buttons on his coat jacket. Clarice watched him with a curious look, but he only stared at the ground as he approached.
“Harrison, darling,” said Vanessa, as he came up behind Clarice’s seat. “Are you quite alright? You look pale as death. It’s not the food in this dreadful place, is it?”
George shook his head instantly, wiping his mouth. “Come now, dear, Harrison would never hire inferior chefs.”
Clarice felt Harrison at her back. Slowly, his big hands slid up her arms and came to rest on her shoulders. Instantly she felt lighter, and lifted one of her hands up to place on his.
“It’s not the food, mum,” said Harrison. “I’m not ill.”
“Then what’s gotten into you, leaving your fiancée on the dance floor? Where are your manners?”
“Apologies, darling,” said Harrison to Clarice. He leaned down and planted a firm peck on her cheek. “I wasn’t myself there for a moment, not after you told me the news. I simply had to get some fresh air.”
Clarice squeezed his hand as an acceptance of his apology. But then his words slowly dawned on her. She almost spilled out the question — what news was he talking about? — but before she could, Harrison’s grip on her shoulders tightened ever so slightly, a clear signal to her.
“News? What news?” asked Vanessa. “We thought you might be taking a call, is it serious?”
“No, mum. Clarice told me some incredible news as we were dancing, and I just… I became overwhelmed.” Harrison smiled down at her, and Clarice tried to mimic it, but she knew there were questions in her eyes.
“What is it?” asked George.
“Father, mum… you’re going to be grandparents. Clarice told me she is expecting.”
The words rang in Clarice’s ears so loudly that she could barely register the sound of the band, the cheering of the crowd, or the ecstatic outburst of Vanessa as she scurried up from her chair to embrace her son and new, soon-to-be daughter. It was like she had cotton stuffed in her ears; like all the glitter and lights were a million miles away.
She only sat there in the chair with a forced smile while Vanessa wrapped her in an excited embrace. Above her, Harrison shook hands with his father. When he glanced back down to her, there was sadness and apology in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough.
In that moment, all Clarice felt for Harrison was rage.
16
Harrison
Maybe it was because the night had reached such emotional heights, but once he saw the look of anger on Clarice’s face, Harrison felt a deep and ugly darkness rise up in his heart, as if he had taken a nose dive from that height and fallen hard. She had a cold steel in her eyes that was so far removed from the care and even love he had felt before that it almost made him literally shiver, right then and there in the ballroom.
As his parents descended into blind emotional celebration, Harrison realized the weight of what he had done, and found himself screaming internally for a way out. He watched helplessly as his mother wrapped Clarice in her arms, pressing their faces together and giving her pecks that left soft pink lipstick smears on Clarice’s pale skin.
Clarice was a queen, as always, and it was only Harrison who could see the cracks in her expression that betrayed the reality of her emotions. On the surface, she was smiling and loving to her new parents, even when Harrison’s mother started patting her flat tummy and listing off all the food products and activities Clarice would now have to avoid.
“Why’d you let us serve her champagne?” scolded his father, lifting up the bottle and shaking it towards Harrison.
“Dear, he didn’t know!” chimed his mother. “And anyway, it’s very early, isn’t it? Find me a woman who hasn’t enjoyed spirits before she found out she was carrying and I’ll find you a liar!” She squeezed Clarice again. “She will be more careful from now on, won’t you, dear?”
Clarice gritted her teeth and smiled. “Of course, mother. We couldn’t be happier about this.”
“This calls for a celebration,” said his father.
Harrison couldn’t ignore the intense anger he saw in Clarice’s eyes. It was as if he could hear her thoughts in his head, and right now, those thoughts were telling him very clearly that staying in this place and celebrating his newest lie was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Father, hold off on that,” said Harrison with a palm up. “To be frank, Clarice is feeling a little weak this evening. I think it would be best if we turned in early to let her get some rest.”
Instantly the mood changed from celebratory to worrisome. “What’s wrong? Shall I fetch the doctor? You do have a night doctor on staff, don’t you, Harrison?”
Harrison swallowed an impulse to return the barb. “Of course, but it’s not all that serious, is it darling?” He leaned over to look at Clarice, trying to explain with his eyes this sudden change of plan.
Clarice picked up on it very quickly. “No, of course not.” She put one hand on her tummy and the other on her clavicle. “It’s just a little hot in here, to be honest, and all this excitement from this whole week, and sharing the news… I think I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”
His mother squeezed her into another hug. “You take your rest, nothing is more important than your health! Harrison, get her to bed this instant.”
“On your command, mum,” said Harrison with a half-smile. He helped Clarice out of her chair and offered her a strong arm to walk on. “Darling, let’s get you back to the suite and order you some ice cream.”
Both his mother and father gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek before they would let them depart from the ballroom. As soon as they were through the gilded double-doors, Clarice dropped Harrison’s arm, picked up the skirt of her dress, and stalked down the hall at a faster pace to get ahead of him. The anger she left in her wake was palpable, and when Harrison saw the look on her face as she stared at him in the lift car, anxiously pressing the Close Door button before he could follow, he decided he would swing by the bar for a moment and take a few shots before he faced the disaster he had so deftly created.
She needed some time, and he really needed a drink.
Harrison entered the penthouse slowly, carefully. The bedroom lights were glowing, but everything else was dark. Through the windows he could see the glittering of the weekly luau on the beach, and the slow-moving lights of boats on the water.
He undid his tie and let it hang in loose ends around his neck. “Clarice? Are you here?” he said.
She didn’t answer right away. He made moves towards the bedroom to look for himself, but she appeared suddenly in the doorway, still in her beautiful golden dress. Backlit by the bedroom light, her hard stance and angry face made her look like an ancient goddess of war, ready to rain her wrath down on him.
And he deserved it.
“Got a lot of nerve coming back here,” she said.
“I came back to talk,” he said. “Not to pretend like it didn’t happen.
Give me some credit, will you?”
Her face said she was not going to be giving up an ounce of free credit this evening. “So talk,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “What the hell was that? What were you thinking?”
Harrison realized he actually hadn’t asked himself yet why he did it, and when he went groping for an answer now, all he felt were ugly emotions he didn’t want to investigate with any clarity. They were slippery and complicated. “I’m sorry, Clarice. I really am. It was a stupid move, I just… I panicked.”
“Panicked? Why? Everything was going just fine,” she said, waving her arms. “If anything, you just jeopardized everything we’ve done this week trying to get you out of this mess. You realize that, right?”
He sighed. “I know.”
“You’re going to have a much harder time explaining what happened to a fiancée and your unborn child once this little charade is done and I’m back home. If it was just me, we could break up, but a baby? Your parents are never going to let you just abandon your child!”
“I know,” he said, firmer this time. “I don’t need you to tell me what my parents will do, alright? I know damn well what will happen.”
“Then why the hell did you do it, Harrison? Why did you leave me out there hanging like that? I mean, fuck, if you wanted to pretend a baby was a part of this, why didn’t you just tell me?” she said.
“What do you mean?”
Clarice paused. She had a look on her face, like she had misstepped and said something she didn’t mean to, but he didn’t understand what. “I thought… I thought we trusted each other, you and I,” she said. “I thought we were in on this plan together as partners. If you needed me to do something different I would have done it. But you just threw me under a bus out there, Harrison, and made me scramble to react. I could have fucked up the whole thing, and it’s like you don’t even care.”
Harrison couldn’t meet her eyes when she said that. He stared at his feet and felt the most naked vulnerability he had ever felt in his life. At least since Anastasia. “Well, maybe I don’t care.”
PRIDE: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch#1) Page 48
