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wave of a magic mascara wand and her favourite tube of Valentine Rose lipstick. And when she was finished, she slid her feet into the highest, most impractical shoes she owned and made the journey to work.

SEVEN

      Chloe found Daniel waiting for her outside the tropical plant nurseries after work. A large wicker picnic basket was swinging from his hand. She stared at it, already guessing where they were going for their July date. Just as well she’d changed into something casual and summery.

      ‘I hope you like live music,’ he said.

      She nodded and smiled, determined not to show she was nervous at the prospect of another evening in his company.

      While all months at Kew had their own special appeal, July was bold and bright and showy. Everywhere flowers bloomed, filling the gardens with a stunning palette of colours and a cocktail of scents. They walked the half-mile to their destination: past the Palm House, through the Mediterranean garden with its temple, and on to the largest of Kew’s glasshouses, the Temperate House.

      Each year Kew hosted a week-long music festival, erecting a stage in front of the three-sectioned greenhouse. As dusk fell the Temperate House became the backdrop for the performance, and coloured lights inside would bathe the trees emerald and turquoise and magenta, and bands would play into the night as the audience picnicked on the lawn in front.

      The music selection was different each night. There was classical. There was jazz. There were top-name chart acts and old-timers touring on a second wind of fame. Tonight, Kat de Souza, one of the rising stars of the UK music industry, was playing.

      Chloe had asked Emma if she wanted to come, but she’d cried off, saying some hot young guy had turned up at her belly-dancing class a couple of weeks ago and she didn’t want to miss one in case he came back. So, secretly, Chloe was very pleased Daniel had chosen this for their July ‘date’.

      He led her to a reserved section of lawn near the stage, pulled a thick woollen blanket from the top of the basket and spread it on the ground. Chloe sat down as elegantly as she could in her knee-length summer dress, crossing one leg over the other. He wrestled with something in the picnic basket behind her and then there was the distinctive breathy pop of a champagne bottle being opened. Seconds later he passed a slim flute to her.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said and took a sip. ‘This is lovely, if a bit...well...public.’

      He sat down beside her and lounged back, stretching his long legs out and resting on one elbow. ‘You complained our last date wasn’t public enough.’

      ‘I did not complain. I merely commented,’ she said in her smoothest voice.

      Daniel chuckled. ‘Believe me, after living with my sister for the last year and a half, I am well aware that in the female species those terms are practically interchangeable.’

      ‘Rubbish,’ Chloe said, but her lips curled at the edges.

      He just raised his eyebrows and did a pretty passable impression of Kelly. ‘Daniel, there are muddy boots in the hallway... Daniel, there’s some weird compost—like rotting muesli—in the bathroom sink...’

      Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. She liked this side of Daniel. When she’d first come back to Kew she’d thought him more buttoned-down than before. But he seemed much more like his old self now. Maybe it had just been a result of all the stressful press attention in those early months.

      He unpacked the picnic—one of Kew’s gourmet affairs that he must have pre-ordered when he’d booked the tickets. Just as well, given Daniel’s culinary skills. There were appetisers and Greek salad, poached salmon and strawberries and cream. Chloe helped herself to a miniature tartlet. It was heavenly.

      The last month had gone seamlessly. The Mouse had been banished and she and Daniel were executing their plan perfectly. They’d reached a silent understanding after their last date. As a result, it wasn’t awkward when they bumped into each other at work any more. He often dropped by her nursery when he was passing, occasionally bringing her a cup of her favourite coffee from the nearby café. They were friends. And if people saw their easy banter and read more into it, then she let them.

      The first act came on as the sun fell low in the sky and music permeated the balmy evening air. Chloe leaned back on her hands and felt all the tension melt from her shoulders.

      They were good. A lively little swing band that had the audience’s toes tapping and heads nodding. She and Daniel worked their way through the picnic and a little more of the champagne. He was attentive, giving her the lion’s share of the strawberries, offering to top up her glass if it got too low, and they chatted easily as the band played and twilight fell.

      And he was being the perfect gentleman, which made things so much easier.

      Chloe sighed with contentment. So she didn’t want to get romantically entangled with Daniel. It wasn’t a crime to spend time with a man who enjoyed being with her. And he did enjoy being with her. She could tell that from every look, every scrap of body language.

      She should have paid attention to the wave of warmth that flooded her torso at that thought, but she didn’t. She was too busy stripping the ghosts of the past of all their power.

      Before, she’d just been a faceless girl to him. One of the many anonymous bodies in a packed lecture hall. He hadn’t known her when he’d pushed her away, told her to get a grip on herself. But now...

      Now Daniel did know her, and he liked what he saw. It changed everything.

      So when the breeze picked up and Chloe gave a little shiver, causing Daniel to shift closer so she could rest against his shoulder if she wanted to, she didn’t wriggle away. And when the swing band finished their set and everyone got up to dance for their final number, she let him pull her to her feet.

      The music was so loud that he had to lean in very close to talk into her ear. His breath was warm on her neck. ‘You’re good at this,’ he said, after she spun out and then back in again. ‘You’ve got the moves right down.’

      Chloe showed off by doing a tuck and spin. ‘I had a few lessons,’ she said, a little smugly.

      Daniel looked suitably impressed. He twirled her out again perfectly, but when she came back he was closer and she all but crashed into him. Her palm splayed across his chest was the only thing that stopped the entire length of their torsos touching.

      ‘You’re a woman of many talents,’ he said, sliding his hands round her waist. ‘Are you this good at everything you do?’

      ‘I make sure I am,’ she replied. She’d meant it quite innocently, but the husky tone to her voice added a whole extra layer of meaning.

      Daniel’s eyebrows rose in reply and his smile widened. Then he pulled her closer so her temple was pressed against his cheek. ‘I’ll bet you are,’ he whispered into her ear, and Chloe started to shake deep down inside.

      The song came to an end and people started clapping. Chloe and Daniel didn’t move. An invisible force field had glued them together, even when the applause faded and people started sitting back down to continue eating and drinking in the break before the next artist. The slap of the double bass was still pounding in Chloe’s ears, even though the band had left the stage minutes ago.

      There was no comfortable, easy conversation now. They’d gone beyond words, the delicious little undercurrent zapping between them was doing all the talking.

      Would it really be so bad?

      To give in to this tugging deep down inside, the one that was drawing her to Daniel? They were both single, both grown-ups. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted—longed for—for years? She couldn’t quite remember why she was so set on denying herself now.

      While she was still contemplating this, the stage darkened and the crowd hushed in anticipation. Reluctantly, they pulled apart and sat down as Kat de Souza walked onto the stage, her

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