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it,’ he said, watching as I sank my teeth obediently into the middle of the doughnut and cream spurted everywhere. ‘The doughnut approach to living well. I might write a book about it.’

      ‘Make sure you include a section on how to clean up all the mess,’ I said, dabbing at my mouth with my fingers, torn between embarrassment and laughter. I spotted a blob of cream on my skirt. ‘Ugh, I’ve got cream everywhere!’

      ‘The best things in life are messy,’ said Phin.

      ‘Not as far as I’m concerned,’ I said, as I carefully wiped the cream from my skirt. ‘But maybe I’ll make an exception for cream doughnuts. It was delicious!’

      With a final lick of my fingers, I got to my feet. ‘I’d better get back to work,’ I said.

      Phin got up, too. His smile had faded as he watched me eat the doughnut, and his expression was oddly unreadable for once. He was looking at me so intently that I hesitated.

      ‘What?’ I asked.

      ‘You’ve missed a bit,’ he said and, reaching out, he wiped a smear of cream from my cheek, just near my mouth. Then he offered me his finger to lick.

      I stared at it, mesmerised by the vividness with which I could imagine my tongue against his finger. I could practically taste the sweetness of the cream, feel the contrast between its smoothness and the firmness of his skin, and a wave of heat pulsed up from my toes to my cheeks and simmered in my brain. For one awful moment I was afraid that the top of my head would actually blow off.

      Horrified by how intimate the mere idea seemed, and about Phin—my boss!—of all people, I found myself taking a step back and shaking my head at the temptation.

      Phin’s eyes never left my mouth as he licked the cream off himself.

      ‘Yum, yum,’ he said softly.

      I know, it doesn’t sound very erotic, but my heart was thudding so loudly I was sure he must hear it. My pulse roared in my ears and I had a terrible feeling that I might literally be steaming. I had to get out of the room before Phin noticed.

      I cleared my throat with an effort. ‘I…er…I should let you get on. Haven’t you got a meeting now?’

      ‘I have?’

      ‘Yes, in HR. You wanted me to set it up for you, to talk to Jane about staff development and the Cameroon trip. It’s in the diary.’ I could feel myself babbling as I backed away towards the door. ‘I’ll forward the e-mail to you…’

      Somehow I made it back to my desk, and had to spend a few minutes just breathing very carefully.

      I felt very odd, almost shaken. I had never thought about Phin that way before. I had never thought about Jonathan like that either, to be honest. I loved Jonathan, but he was safe. This wild pounding of my blood felt dark and rude and dangerous, and I didn’t like it.

      I pulled myself together at last. A momentary aberration, I told myself. A huge fuss about nothing. I mean, we hadn’t even touched. A flick of Phin’s finger against my cheek. That was all that had happened. Nothing at all, in fact.

      I was just…hot. Was this what a hot flush was like? I wondered wildly. If so, I wasn’t looking forward to the menopause at all.

      Jittery and unsettled, I took myself off to the Ladies’ to run cold water over my wrists. Someone had once told me that was the best way to cool yourself down, and I had no intention of splashing cold water all over my make-up. I wasn’t in that much of a state.

      I met Lex’s PA, Monique, on her way in at the same time. Typical, isn’t it, that the moment you’re desperate to be alone people you don’t normally see for ages start popping out of the woodwork? This wasn’t even Monique’s floor.

      I was afraid that she would comment on how hot and flustered I looked, but fortunately she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Reassured, I stopped to chat.

      See, I told myself, all I needed was a little normality. It was a relief to talk about ordinary stuff, and I began to feel myself again.

      ‘So what’s the gossip?’ I asked Monique, remembering Phin’s question earlier. Monique was famously discreet, but if she did have any news it would be good to be able to pass a titbit on to Phin. At least it would be something to say other than Could we try that cream on the finger thing again?

      ‘Funny you should say that.’ Monique glanced around and lowered her voice, even though there was no one else in there with us. ‘Have you seen Jonathan recently?’

      Phin and the cream were instantly forgotten. ‘A couple of times,’ I said, as casually as I could. My poor old heart was working overtime this morning. Now it was pattering away at the mention of Jonathan. ‘Why?’

      ‘He’s a changed man, isn’t he?’

      I thought of how relaxed he had looked the last time I’d seen him. ‘He seems to be in a good mood.’

      ‘Yes, and we all know why now!’

      ‘We do?’ I asked cautiously.

      Monique grinned. ‘Our steady, sensible Jonathan is in love.’

      Not content with pattering, my heart polevaulted into my throat, where it lodged, hammering wildly. ‘In love?’ I croaked.

      She nodded. ‘And with Lori, of all people! I wouldn’t have thought she was his type at all, but they’re all over each other and they’re not even bothering to try and hide it. Oh, well, at least he’s happy.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get on. Lex will be wondering what’s happened to me.’

      There was a rushing in my ears. I think I must have said something, but I’ve no idea what, and Monique waggled her fingers in farewell as she hurried off, oblivious to the fact that my world had come crashing down around me.

      Shaking, feeling sick, I shut myself in a cubicle and put my head between my knees. I mustn’t cry, I mustn’t cry, I mustn’t cry, I told myself savagely. I had the rest of the afternoon to get through, and if I cried my mascara would run and everyone would know my heart was broken.

      I don’t know how long I sat there, but it can’t have been that long. I knew I had to get back. Lifting my head, I drew long, painful breaths to steady myself. I could do this.

      Thank God for make-up. I reapplied lipstick very carefully and studied my expression. My eyes held a stark expression, but you’d have had to know me very well to spot that anything was wrong. Inside I felt ragged and raw, and I walked stiffly, so as not to jar anything, but outwardly I was perfectly composed.

      I made it back to my desk and sank down in my chair, staring blankly at the computer screen. I just had to sit there for another few hours and then I’d be able to go home. Phin had gone out to his lunch with Jane, the director of HR, so I was spared him at least. Those blue eyes might be full of laughter but they didn’t miss much.

      By the time he came back it was after four, and I had had plenty of time to compose myself. I ached all over with the effort of not falling apart, and my brain felt as if it had an elastic band snapped round it, but I was able to meet his gaze when he came in.

      ‘How was your meeting?’ I asked, knowing Phin would never guess what it cost me to sound normal.

      ‘Very useful. Jane’s great, isn’t she? We talked about Cameroon and she’s all for a trial visit to see—’ He broke off and frowned. ‘What’s the matter?’

      ‘Nothing.’ My throat was so tight I had to force the word out.

      ‘Don’t try and deny it,’ said Phin. ‘That stapler is a millimetre out of alignment. And…’ he peered closer ‘…yes, I do believe that’s a chip in your nail polish!’ The laughter faded from his voice and from his face. ‘Come on, I can see in your eyes that something’s wrong. What is it?’

      ‘It’s…nothing.’ I couldn’t look

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