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      ‘That’d be fun. But I’m not sure your bank account would take it.’

      ‘I just meant the breakfast part.’

      ‘Oh. Right, of course! Absolutely. But I’m paying next time.’

      ‘We’ll see.’

      He leant in to give me a kiss on the cheek and I leant back. The moon had pushed itself from behind a bank of clouds and the light, reflected by the snow piled around us, cast a strange, almost magical light. It highlighted the confusion on his face.

      ‘I said I’m paying next time.’

      Michael’s hands lifted to my face, holding it gently, palms resting against my cheeks, his outer fingers spreading down onto my neck. He leant in again, his eyes focused intently on mine. Gently his lips placed a kiss on my forehead and then his mouth moved close to my ear.

      ‘And I said “we’ll see”.’

      The whispered voice, with its lilting accent and hint of gravelly roughness sent heat searing through my body. I half expected the nearby pile of snow to instantaneously melt into a puddle. Kind of like I felt like doing right now.

      He stood upright and I took a pace backwards as casually as I could in an attempt to avoid Michael seeing just how well his charm and, let’s face it, downright raw sexiness was still working. Unfortunately my studied nonchalance hadn’t taken into account the step into the building and I tripped backward, landing with a damp thud in the muddy puddle of water that had accumulated in the slightly worn away dip of the step. I hastily pushed myself back up, as Michael put an arm out to help me.

      ‘You all right?’

      ‘Of course,’ I replied, not looking up. ‘And you can stop laughing.’

      ‘I’m not.’

      I looked up. His face was serious but I could see the little glint in his eyes as they caught the moonlight.

      ‘But you’re dying to.’

      ‘I’m going to choose to refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me.’

      ‘Arse.’

      He laughed and wrapped his arms around me.

      ‘Are you really OK?’

      My arms, despite strict instructions from my brain, wrapped themselves around his body: warm, solid…

       It was perfectly acceptable to stay here for another hour, right?

      ‘I am.’ My voice was muffled as he squidged me close.

      ‘I’d better let you go in and get some sleep.’

      I nodded, my hair making a scratchy noise against the fabric of his coat. Reluctantly I pulled away, reached up on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek and then unlocked the door.

      ‘I’ll see you at seven.’

      Agreeing, I waved and headed inside.

       Chapter Twenty-Two

      ‘Doing anything special tonight?’ Janey asked when I gave her a call to say hi on the way to my first client. Her tone was so overly innocent that it was clear she knew exactly what I was up to this evening.

      ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in saying “not really”, is there?’

      ‘Absolutely none,’ she giggled. ‘You know, he usually hates these sort of things. He’s not into the whole schmoozing side of business. You know our Mikey, he’d rather just call a spade a spade and be done with it.’

      ‘The man on the phone seemed to think it was pretty important that he attended this one if he wanted the best shot at the job he’s pitching for.’

      ‘Mmmhmm.’

      ‘Mmmhmm what?’

      ‘I’m just wondering when one of you two is going to tell me something official.’

      ‘There is nothing official. That is to say there isn’t anything at all. I was there when the guy called and we got talking about it. Michael asked if I’d come. That’s all. Why? What did he say?’

      ‘About the same as you.’

      ‘There you go then. He even made a point of stressing that it wasn’t anything like you’re suggesting. So, there really is nothing to get excited about. Sorry!’ My voice was light so why my heart didn’t feel the same way?

      ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy.’

      From what I’d seen that day, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. He looked pretty damn perfect actually.

      ‘There’s nothing wrong with him, Janey. We’re just not like that. I’m not his type anyway.’

      ‘No, you’ve got depth to you. It might be an idea for him to try something different for a change!’

      ‘Janey,’ I laughed, ‘much as I appreciate the sentiment of that statement – I think – I’m not really in the mood to be anyone’s relationship guinea pig.’

      ‘Aww, but they’re so cute!’

      ‘Ha ha. Right. I’m at my client’s. Better go.’

      ‘OK. Well have a great time tonight. In your non-guinea pig capacity.’

      ‘I’m just looking forward to having a meal that doesn’t start with it going ping.’

      ***

      Bearing in mind this definitely wasn’t a date, I was disproportionately nervous. It was ridiculous. Even though I’d only known him a little over a month, in that time I’d actually got to know him pretty well and, despite early indications, we were now relaxed in each other’s company. So why the nerves?

      ‘Come on Kate. Pull yourself together,’ I said to the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

      It didn’t reply but instead gave me a look that suggested it may take one or two stiff drinks before that happened on this particular evening. But at least my hair had gone right. OK, so it had actually taken six attempts for it to go right, but we’d got there.

      I walked back into the bedroom and glanced at the bedside clock: ten to seven. I sat on the bed and put my shoes on, then checked on my dress. It was a simple Grecian-style halter sheath with a choker collar that joined to the main body of the dress with a delicate three-link chain. I’d bought it on a whim, which was most unlike me. And, having had no occasion to wear it, it had hung in my wardrobe for the last three years looking beautiful and a little sad.

      I wasn’t usually one for keeping things I didn’t use – that was the ethos of my company after all – so tonight was this dress’ now or never chance and I just hoped it was right for the occasion. This was obviously an important night for Michael and I didn’t want to let him down. I’d never been to a big function like this one and, frankly, the whole cool, calm, cope-with-anything persona was desperately making a dive for the window. I grabbed onto her proverbial ankles and yanked.

       It’s just a party. I can do a party.

      The doorbell rang. I’d been expecting the intercom. The flats had an internal security system that was supposed to prevent people just turning up at a front door uninvited. In reality, people often just held the door for someone if they were close behind, whether they recognised them or not.

      Michael was early and at my door. I pulled it open: Except that it wasn’t Michael.

      ‘Calum. What are you doing here?’

      ‘She left me.’ His eyes skimmed me up and down. ‘You look amazing, babe.’

      ‘You didn’t

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