♥ HOW MUCH FOR AN HEIR'S HEART? - ZARRY ♥

Five

"Any normal man would be out on a date on such a fine Saturday evening," Harry muttered to himself as he walked into Tomlinson's, bravado propelling him forward. Not at work but, spying on his boss. Not sneaking around but, trying to uncover Zayn's big plot to bring down Tomlinson's.

As the elevator sped up to the top floor, Harry recalled the past hour. Charlotte had offered him two tickets to the Bretman Rock fashion show at the Tuliphouse Museum. Sitting through the bridal theme with gorgeous women in stunning white gowns wasn't how Harry intended to spend the evening. Then Harry had seen Zayn in the front row, and suddenly Harry's evening didn't seem so dull as before.

Zayn was seated next to one of Tomlinson's prominent shareholders, engaged in deep conversation when some sixth sense must have told him someone had their eyes on him. He glanced up and pinned Harry with his dark gaze.

Harry's clothes had suddenly felt constructive. He may as well have been naked sitting there, the see-through designer shirt providing absolutely no coverage whatsoever.

Zayn had no right to stare at him like that, making him feel so hot and bothered.

Harry rose quickly, murmured something about fresh air to Niall, his surprised flatmate, and made his way to the exit. Lights flashed behind him, and loud music beat low and sensual. But he kept walking even when he realised that Zayn had a perfect view of his backside. Another brilliant decision gone wrong.

Harry was waiting in the line at the bar, eyeing the congregation of smokers on his left. A man broke free from the group and strode over.

Xander.

A wave of cigarette smoke reached him before Xander did and burnt his nostrils. Harry barely suppressed a cough of distaste as Xander crossed his arms on the bar next to him, bumping his shoulders into Harry.

"What are you doing here?" Harry said and angled away.

"Socialising, having a few drinks. Keeping an eye on you. You've been avoiding me."

Ignoring his oh-so-charming smirk, Harry reached for his glass but quickly recoiled when Xander reached it first.

Xander frowned at that. "Hey, Haz, don't be like that."

Harry just scowled and pulled the glass back, wine slopping over the rim as he resisted the overwhelming desire to clock him with it.

"Zayn's getting to you, huh?"

Harry gritted his teeth, praying for control. "Haven't you got someone else to blackmail, Xander?"

Xander laughed an unpleasant bark. "Watch it, Haz. It's not just me who's got something to lose here."

"You were the one sleeping around. You were the one who offered me up as Zayn's assistant. And you-"

"And you were the one who didn't say no to sex on my desk. We had a good time, Harry. Just admit it, you got off on my whole 'secret and forbidden' thing."

Disbelief rendered Harry speechless. He didn't know what was worse, his raging stupidity for ignoring Tomlinson's morality clause, or his naivety for thinking he'd be any different from the rest of Xander's partners.

It was those innocent choirboy looks, complete with a mop of dark curls that made Xander Ritz such a hit. The men liked him for his after-hours drinks and blokey talk about football and women. The women were flattered by his charm and good looks. And to Harry's surprise, there'd been a spark of interest despite the unofficial gossip. Xander was an attractive smooth-talker, and that's how Harry fell into this pit.

So you fell for it, and now he's got you, way to go, Harry.

"What do you want?" Before Harry could blink, Xander took his arm and steered him across the courtyard to a dark corner.