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sent Bernice back, you picked up the phone. You’ve never avoided me before, even when you hated me. But now you do?’

      ‘I told you I was busy. I wasn’t…specifically avoiding you.’

       Nice one, Pinocchio.

      ‘And I never hated you.’

      ‘There was a rumour you wanted to hit me with a snow shovel.’

      ‘Yes. Well. All right. There were moments that might have crossed my mind.’

      A ghost of a smile played on his lips and I wanted to catch it with my own and trap it there. I looked away.

      ‘And like I said, I did reply to you.’ I cast a glance back out of the glass doors. ‘That snow’s not letting up. You should get –’

      ‘This is the reply you’re referring to?’ He held up his phone, the email I had sent from the bookshop open on it.

      I headed towards the stairs, avoiding the lift as I always did. And having just snarfed two pieces of cake, probably the best option anyway.

      ‘Yes. See? Not ignoring you at all.’ I turned on the stair and leant to take the bags back from him.

      He inched them back out of my reach. ‘I’ll bring them. We’re not done talking yet.’

      I lifted my gaze to his and he met it evenly. The green eyes softened for a moment and he lifted his free hand to my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin.

      ‘You’ve been crying. I thought it was just the wind blowing at you out there, making your eyes water.’

      ‘It was. Is.’ I turned, causing his hand to drop as I moved quickly up the flights of stairs and on towards my flat. Unlocking it, I thought about trying again to get rid of Michael. A quick glance revealed he was still studying me and I knew that look: He wasn’t going anywhere until he was done. I let out a sigh, stood back to let him in and closed the door. Best just to get it over with. I pulled off my hat, shucked my coat and hung everything up.

      ‘Jesus, what did you do?’ Michael’s hand caught my chin and he tilted my face to the light a little more.

      ‘What?’ And then I remembered. ‘Oh, that,’ I said, my fingers automatically going to the apparently noticeable bump on my forehead. I winced as I touched it. Bloody hell. I really hope it didn’t look as big as it felt. ‘I sort of head butted a pole on the Tube.’ I met his eyes. ‘Accidentally. Obviously.’

      A flicker of a smile played around the corners of his luscious mouth at my clarification. ‘Get some ice on it. It’ll help take the swelling down.’

      My eyes ran over him.

      ‘Talking of ice, you look frozen.’

      ‘I’m all right.’

      ‘Do you want a hot drink? I can – ’

      ‘Katie. Stop. Please. Just talk to me.’ His hand was encircling my wrist, just lightly, keeping me from turning my back again.

      ‘What is it you want me to say that I haven’t said?’ I’d planned that to come out as strong and neutral. But my voice betrayed me, cracking on the last words.

      He shook his head, the hint of smile back on his lips, but tinged this time with a sadness I couldn’t explain. ‘Oh Katie, there’s so much I want you to say.’

      ‘I don’t understand.’

      Michael took a couple of steps backward, lowering himself so that he was resting on the arm of my couch. As he hadn’t let go, I had no alternative but to follow. And now I was looking directly into those captivating eyes.

      ‘You once accused me of not knowing anything about you and making a judgement anyway. I was wrong to do that and I promised myself I’d never do that again. But now you’re doing the same thing.’

      ‘No…I’m…’

      He reached around and undid the clip that had been securing my hair. It tumbled down my back and gently, distractedly, he took a length and wrapped it around his fingers, letting it slide between them. Part of me wanted him to stop and part of me wanted him never to.

      ‘I had no idea Angeline was going to be there last night.’

      ‘I know. That was obvious from your face.’

      ‘Apparently she didn’t just “happen” to be there, like she said. She wangled a ticket from someone, because she wanted to talk to me. If she’d have come to the house, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. So she wanted it to be on neutral ground, to catch me off guard. Which she did.’

      I nodded, having forcibly unlocked my gaze from the tractor beam of his.

      ‘You’re right. She does want to get back together.’

      I knew it. Of course I did. But having him confirm it, with his hand resting on my wrist, his fingers playing with my hair…

      I pushed away. ‘That’s great Michael. Like I said in the email, I’m really happy for you. But I do kind of have some stuff to do so…’

      When I looked up his face was tense, the chiselled features setting back into hard lines. He ran a hand over his now short hair.

      ‘Katie I got hurt before and I swore I’d never go through that again.’

      ‘I’m sure she’s realised that and – ’

      ‘Jesus, woman. Will you just let me say what I’m trying to say?’ Exasperation broke in his voice, as, with two strides, he closed the space between us.

      I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again. Michael’s hands cupped my face and he lowered his head, his lips brushing mine, soft at first, and then deepening into something more as he pulled me towards him, his arms wrapping around me, crushing me against him, as his lips moved from my mouth to my throat.

      ‘Michael?’ I forced out, using every bit of willpower I had to interrupt his touch.

      He pulled away, his eyes searching mine. ‘Katie, I don’t want Angeline. For a moment last night I thought maybe there was a chance. But it literally only lasted a moment. It was like a flash of something from before. Something that’s gone and can never be brought back.’

      ‘Do you wish it could?’ As painful as the answer might be, I had to know.

      ‘No,’ he answered. There was no hesitation. He tipped my chin up. ‘No, I don’t. Angeline is the same as she ever was. And once I thought that was what I wanted. That she was what I wanted. But she’s not. She was never right for me. Everyone tried to tell me but I was young and stupid and I thought I knew better. Now I do know better. She’s bored with her banker now. He makes a tonne of money, but he can’t make her laugh. So now she’s thinking maybe the grass wasn’t so green over there after all. But it’s too late, because, to keep up with the metaphor, I’ve moved onto pastures new.’ He bent slowly and kissed my cheekbone. ‘At least I’d like to.’

      I frowned.

      ‘What?’ he asked, pulling away and standing up straighter.

      ‘If I’m the new pasture, that gives a distinct whiff of me sounding like cattle.’

      He rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t know what you did to me but until you came along, I had the gift of the gab with women. Then you ruined it all.’

      I grinned. ‘Good.’

      He shook his head at me, the half-smile teasing his face. ‘OK. Let’s put this out there clearly: I am not referring to you as anything remotely bovine.’

      ‘Good,’ I repeated.

      ‘I do, in fact, think you are the most beautiful, funny, intelligent, witty, talented and loving woman I have ever met. I’ve been in love with you since about five minutes into your first visit. A situation which frankly frightened the bloody

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