Chapter 36
Tania reached for her discarded clothes, pulling on an extra jumper when she shivered, unsure if the cause was cold air, or shock. Either way, the atmosphere in the room had nosedived.
She was desperate to know what had so upset Gull. Why he was intent on checking his phone. She wondered why finding out who she was related to would cause such a sudden desire for him to get away from her– if that was even the problem. Usually, it was the other way around. It tended to be Tania withdrawing from the situation when it became clear the other party no longer saw her as the main event.
It seemed unlikely that something had happened to one of the people Gull was in Près du Ciel with. He would have told her if that was what had upset him, surely?
Tania swallowed; her mouth had gone dry.
Had she just been played?
Perhaps this thing had nothing to do with any of the external factors buzzing around her head. Perhaps it had purely been about sex, despite all he’d said about wanting to continue to see her once they were back in the UK. Maybe that was why Lysander’s comments hadn’t bothered him. Perhaps that was how he operated. Played Mr Nice Guy, with enough of a hint of bad boy to pique a woman’s interest. And once he’d got what he wanted, he was gone, like dry sand through your fingers.
Maybe he’d just texted his mates with word of his triumphant return.
She watched him as he emerged from the bathroom, tugging his top into place.
‘I suppose you did say you just wanted sex,’ she said. ‘Right at the beginning. I should have realised you meant it.’
He frowned as he pulled on the edge of his fleece jersey.
‘I hope I was up to scratch,’ she said. ‘Did you text your friends with all the details?’
‘No. You don’t understand.’ She could see a muscle twitching in his jaw. He screwed his eyes closed, those amazing eyelashes pressed against the curve of his cheeks. ‘You’ve put me in an impossible situation.’
She frowned. ‘How? You’re right, Gull. I don’t understand.’
He stared at her. ‘It’s my fault, I suppose. You were so determined to stay anonymous. I would have played any game you wanted to get close to you, I didn’t care about who you are. But perhaps I should have.’
‘Why should it matter who I’m related to?’ she said, the pitch of her voice rising to match her frustration. It seemed she’d come full circle. It was always the same. Why did being a Harrington always have to ruin everything?
‘I am Tania Harrington, Titania Lisette Harrington if you want to be precise. Yes, my father is the sodding world-famous actor, Anthony Harrington. Galactic bloody Commander Robson. And, yes, my half-brother is that model everyone except you recognises from those adverts. So fucking what?’ Her voice spiralled, the last sentence a shout.
To her surprise, he continued to shake his head. ‘It’s nothing to do with that,’ he said. ‘It’s not about your name. Or your family. I already knew your name. I’ve known since the chalet manager came to collect me. He told me who Snow Pine Lodge belongs to. Told me all about the furore back in the day when the name was changed from Chalet Génépi. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. And when Lysander took me for a dummy earlier, I played along. Because I couldn’t care less about any of that. I’ve never been interested in celebrity stuff.’
That took Tania by surprise. ‘But it’s always about them,’ she said, more quietly.
‘This time, it isn’t. It’s aboutyou.’ Gull glanced at his phone, then shook his head. ‘I saw Lysander, upstairs. He mentioned someone called Rory Flannagan. Said I should ask you about him.’
Tania continued to frown, her hands slipping from her hips as he flicked and scrolled some more, then held the phone up again. This time he showed her a piece from an online tabloid, the headline mentioning the words ‘secret affair with a mystery woman’. The sub-heading going with ‘Pregnant wife’. Tania didn’t need to read any further. She knew exactly what it was about, the paparazzi shot heading the article, of an uncharacteristically chastened-looking Rory Flannagan on his way out of The Ivy, was enough of a clue.
‘Is the mystery woman you, Tania?’ Gull said, his gaze fixed on her.
‘Is that what Lysander said?’
She supposed she should be grateful nobody in the press had been bold enough to name her.
The lawyers would have a field day with the journos and the Harrington machine would chew up and spit out anyone daring to name her. But in this instance, even if it happened that wasn’t the point. Because while the Harrington machine would deny, and her father would refuse to acknowledge any questions on the subject, none of that would matter. In this moment, the only moment which mattered, Tania realised the only thing of importance was what Gull thought.
‘Tell me it’s not true,’ he said.
She wanted to lie, to tell him it was nonsense. That Lysander was talking out of his backside. She wanted to ask him why it mattered so much.
She wanted to say that it was in the past, just a way to get at her father, nothing more. That it didn’t mean anything. That she hadn’t felt anything much when Rory had been on top of her, even though she’d made plenty of noise in the hope that her father had heard her. That the whole sordid thing was irrelevant and nothing to do with the here and now and the way she’d allowed herself to begin to feel about Gull. That he didn’t understand how it worked, in the world she inhabited. And he didn’t know anything about her family, about what her father had done to her mother, the way it had affected everything Tania felt about people, and relationships. About love.
And while she couldn’t think of anything about her that was less important for him to focus on than her ill-judged fling with Rory, it clearly mattered to Gull. Although she couldn’t quite work out why. Had she missed something?
‘You and I are both single. Who cares what might or might not have happened in the past?’
