About Last Night

Chapter 5

5

Tristan had never been so stressed in his life.

It had taken him the rest of the evening to find someone willing to step in to present the Breakfast Show on such short notice. Darla, the woman who had taken over Tallulah’s old Drivetime Show, point-blank refused to help him out because of the way he’d treated Jez ‘so appallingly’ and the rest of the presenters seemed unwilling to help because he’d fired Tallulah.

Added to that, he’d spent the night tossing and turning in his hotel bed as flashes of her face kept springing into his head. She knew exactly the trouble she was causing him – he’d seen the mischief in her eyes as she’d swung the door shut in his face.

Admittedly, he’d been floored when she’d refused to take his more than generous offer right away, but after chewing on it for a while he wondered whether he’d actually deserved the rejection. In his rush to get past his frustration about the night he’d spent with her, he’d not done his job properly and let his emotions get in the way of common sense.

He should have tried to smooth things over with her first.

Clearly this problem wasn’t going to be resolved with cold hard cash like most things he came across in his life either. Judging by the fact she lived in a large, swanky apartment in central London perhaps money wasn’t her driving force. Maybe she had wealthy parents or a large inheritance behind her? Her wage from the radio station certainly wouldn’t have covered a mortgage, or even the rent, on a place like that.

Whatever it was that drove her, she’d certainly got his attention.

Unsurprisingly, the Breakfast Show was a total chaos of missed cues and fumbled links and the poor guy who he’d pulled from the sleepy graveyard shift to take over let Tristan know in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t prepared to do it again the following day.

There had been a fair number of complaints from the listeners too.

If Tristan weren’t careful, the advertisers – who kept the station running with their regular imbursements – would start making a fuss and then they’d be in real trouble.

Unfortunately, his father wasn’t contactable for another month as he and his new yoga-obsessed wife had decided to shroud themselves in solitude in the middle of Asia to ‘become one with the earth’ so it was totally down to Tristan to handle things here.

He’d already arranged for Andrew, his second-in-command at the company he ran from Edinburgh, to carry on caretaking in his place whilst he was down here in London so he could concentrate fully on getting the station back up and running with a new manager.

Right now, his main priority was to get Tallulah to agree to return tomorrow. He suspected he’d need to be creative about how he went about it too, because, without a doubt, she was holding off on giving him an answer to pay him back for firing her in the first place .

And perhaps for his less than objective suggestion that she’d only slept with him to gain a competitive edge. Hot embarrassment trickled through him as he remembered the accusations he’d made in the heat of the moment.

It hadn’t been his finest hour.

He had to have imagined all her slightly odd behaviour when they first met, retrofitting it afterwards into his conviction that she’d been playing him for a fool, when maybe it had been something else? But what?

Not that he should be worrying about that at the moment. He needed to focus on the job in hand.

He sat for a few minutes staring into space as he considered the best way to get her attention.

Lightning finally struck.

He smiled, an unexpected feeling of excitement rising from deep within his chest. She liked playing games? Well, okay then, he was going to present her with the best brain-teaser of her life.

Tallulah slept in late and woke to find bright sunlight streaming in through the chinks in her curtains.

After all the tension of the previous day, it was absolute bliss to lie there for a while and not have to spring out of bed to get ready for her shift at work.

Not that she could hold off from giving Tristan an answer for long. She knew she couldn’t push him too hard, or he’d soon find someone else to step in and snap up her contract. The benefits of having experience on the show and a good track record at the station would only give her the edge over a newcomer for so long.

Still, it had been satisfying to see the comical stunned expression on his face when she’d shut the door on him. It had more than made up for the cold look of disapproval she’d last experienced on that handsome face of his.

Unbidden memories from their night together swam through her head as she thought about him, leaving a warm afterglow in the most intimate of places. She wriggled around in frustration, clamping her thighs together to quell the sensation. The very last thing she should be doing was lusting after Tristan again. Look what kind of mess she’d got herself into when she’d last given in to that impulse.

No. Sadly, that had to have been the one and only time there was any intimacy between them. The man was a shark.

Her reflections were interrupted by the sound of the buzzer.

Hauling herself out of bed and wrapping up in her large towelling robe, she raced to the door, half wondering in a nervy excited way whether it would be Tristan again. The Breakfast Show couldn’t have been a roaring success with no one at the station with experience in hosting it to take over at such short notice. Perhaps he’d come to camp out on her doorstep until she agreed to come back? Her heart did a loop the loop as she pictured stepping over Tristan’s gorgeous prostrate body on her way out for milk.

Hmm, she quite liked the idea of that.

It was a flower delivery. The bouquet was so large she could hardly see the delivery person behind it. After accepting it with an excited squeak, she carried it into the living room and set it on the coffee table, brushing aside the debris from the day before to make room for it. As she looked at it more carefully, she realised there were jigsaw pieces with words written on them spiked on sticks and dotted in amongst the flowers.

After rummaging through the whole bouquet and finding sixteen different pieces, she made room on the table so she could fit them together and make up the handwritten note. Once she’d completed it, she stared in amusement at the words spelled out in front of her:

Since you’ve been gone, things around here have fallen to pieces…

There wasn’t a name anywhere on the note. Even so, she had a strong suspicion she knew who it was from. A burst of laughter bubbled up from inside her and broke free. Was this Tristan’s way of trying to persuade her to agree to take back the job? If so, it was a pretty good shot.

Leaning down, she sniffed the beautiful fragrant bouquet, delighting in the heady mixture of scents as they wound through her nostrils. No one had ever bought her flowers as grand as this before and they certainly hadn’t gone to the trouble of leaving her a message to puzzle out.

Standing up, she shook herself. She really shouldn’t let a few stems and a jigsaw turn her head so easily. It was important to remember that he needed something from her and there wasn’t any kind of romance in the gesture. It was purely mercenary on his part.

She took herself off for a shower, mulling it all over, and just as she got out there was the loud rasp of the buzzer again.

Hurrying to the door in just a towel – praying it really wasn’t Tristan this time – she pulled it open to reveal a tall, lanky youth with a brown cardboard box in his hands.

‘I have a delivery for Tallulah Lazenby,’ he said, desperately trying to keep his gaze averted from her dripping wet, skimpily towelled body and looking somewhere off to the left of her head, his eyes wide and the skin on his neck flushed a deep red.

‘Thanks,’ Lula said, taking the box gently from him. ‘Where has it come from? ’

‘I work at The Magic Store on Oxford Street. A customer gave me fifty quid to come over and deliver this to you in my break.’ He still couldn’t meet her eyes and she decided to be kind and put him out of his misery. ‘Thanks very much.’ She gave him a nod to release him and he backed away quickly and ran off down the hallway leading out of her apartment block.

She opened up the box right there by the door. It looked as if there was a glass ball inside. Lifting it out carefully, she examined it. It sat on a wooden base and the whole thing was heavy and solid, the glass thick.

It took her a few seconds to realise what she was holding. It was a fortune-teller’s crystal ball.

Shaking her head, she laughed to herself.

Nice .

He’d remembered her flip remark about how being able to see into the future would be a useful skill. It really would have been on the night they’d met. None of this mess with Tristan would have happened if they’d both known what was about to unfold.

Carrying it into the living room, she put the ball on the sideboard and turned her attention back to the box. There was an envelope taped to the top of it, which she tore open, shifting the cardboard box under one arm so she could hold up the note and read it.

Once I realised, I wanted to let you know…

Once he realised what? That he’d been an arrogant arse for not even listening to her side of the story before jumping to conclusions?

That he liked her a lot more than he was letting on and wanted to see her again in a non-work capacity?

Even though the thought of that gave her a warm flutter in her belly, she knew she needed to quash it quickly. There couldn’t be any more sexy times with him – she wasn’t going to sleep with someone she worked for ever again.

No.

Not going to happen.

Tossing the card onto the table, she went to get dressed and dry her hair.

She was in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea when the buzzer went for the third time.

Fishing the tea bag out of the cup so as not to stew her drink, she went to answer the door again.

Since the last note had arrived, she’d turned the question of what he would write next over and over in her mind, spending rather more time than she should have thinking about him.

The guy knew exactly what he was doing – she had to give him credit for that.

A tall, raven-haired lady with a bright-red-lipsticked smile waited patiently on the other side of her door. Lula recognised her from the cafe round the corner – the place that did the most amazing breakfasts.

The smell of the bacon sandwich the woman was now proffering hit her nostrils. Lula’s stomach rumbled and her mouth filled with saliva in anticipation of the intensely sweet, salty taste of the bacon and the glorious soft bloomer roll. She took the sandwich and thanked the still beaming lady, who waved away her offer of money. ‘It’s already been taken care of,’ she said, giving Lula one last knowing grin.

She only noticed the writing on the greaseproof wrapper – which appeared to be in different handwriting to the rest of the notes – after she’d shut the door. He must have got the lady from the cafe to write it.

It read :

Right or wrong – wrong as it turns out – I thought I was making things right…

Huh.

Well, at least he’d fully admitted he was wrong to fire her, even if he was still trying to defend his actions.

She stared at the sandwich in her hand, which looked and smelled all delicious and tempting.

Well, there was no sense in wasting food. She peeled back the wrapper and sank her teeth into the soft floury roll.

Heavenly.

It was just after lunchtime when the next delivery arrived. Lula rushed to the door, trying not to get too excited, aware of the manic beat of her heart and how foolish it was to allow herself to respond like this.

This time a courier held out something the size and shape of a shoebox to her.

She took it inside and opened it up.

It was a pair of black mule-style slippers with six-inch heels and a fluff of feathers framing the open toe.

She’d never have to answer the door feeling short again.

There was a strange tingling feeling behind her eyes as she opened the note attached to the shoebox.

Respect to you for standing your ground…

Something squeezed hard in her chest. Brushing the feeling off, she stooped and slid the slippers onto her feet. They were totally over the top for wearing indoors and she’d never owned anything so ridiculous in her life – but she loved them.

Striding into her bedroom, she stood in front of the long cheval mirror and stared at her reflection. She couldn’t help but laugh, the impulse surging up in great bursts of joy from deep inside her.

It had been a long time since she’d felt this buzzed.

Staring out of the window, she toyed with the idea of going out. The sun was pouring down onto an unseasonably bright and balmy London, but she couldn’t quite be bothered.

It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to see what Tristan would send next or what might be written in the note that came with it.

Nothing at all.

Just as the discomfiting heat of her self-denial began to warm her face, there was another loud jolt on the buzzer.

A brand-new pair of top-of-the-range headphones was waiting for her this time. She signed the courier’s electronic pad and took them eagerly into the house, pulling them out of the box to study them properly. She’d been meaning to get herself a pair of these for a while. They had amazing sound quality and were incredibly comfortable, which was imperative when you had to wear them for hours at a time.

He’d really thought about all his gifts, targeting them directly at her needs and whims.

Clever. Very clever.

She pulled off the note taped to the box and read it with her heart in her mouth.

You are appreciated. We need you here. Please come back.

P.S. If you line the cards up, the first vertical row will tell you how I’m feeling right about now .

P.P.S. I’ll be picking you up for dinner at 8p.m. and we’ll get into those ‘perks’ that we never got around to discussing yesterday.

Wear what you like. I suspect you look good in everything you own.

Tristan

Exhilaration, driven by pure unadulterated excitement, shot straight through her. What did he mean by ‘perks’? Was he referring to business-type bonuses or an altogether more saucy sort of incentive?

Her heart fluttered and she had to sit down as the sudden excess of adrenaline made her woozy.

She read the note still clutched in her trembling fingers again: …line the cards up, the first vertical row will tell you how I’m feeling…

Gathering all the notes together, she placed them one above the other in the order they’d been sent and scanned down the first letter of each word.

SORRY

It felt as though something tight and hard had finally broken inside her, coating her insides with a delicious warmth.

Okay, so he was capable of apologising properly and he certainly didn’t do things by halves, but the man was so presumptuous telling her to be ready to go out at eight o’clock when he had no idea whether she was busy tonight or even prepared to give him her answer yet.

She couldn’t stop a wide grin from breaking across her face.

She really liked that about him. She liked it a lot.

Quite possibly more than she should.

Tristan smoothed down his hair one more time before pressing the buzzer to Tallulah’s apartment.

He hoped the deliveries he’d sent over had softened her up a little – at least enough to give him an opportunity to talk her round.

After all his years of heading up a business, he couldn’t believe he’d propelled the radio station into such turmoil after he’d only been responsible for it for one day. He’d never made such an ill thought-out, emotionally driven mistake in his life and it was all down to the woman who lurked behind this door.

He seemed to have found his nemesis.

He’d been thinking about her all day, wondering what her reactions had been to each present and feeling a strange disappointment that he hadn’t been there to witness her delight – or disdain – as each one arrived.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself earlier, but he was actually looking forward to taking her out to dinner this evening and having the opportunity to get to know her a little better.

Not that he was expecting any kind of serious relationship to develop here – he wasn’t ready for that so soon after the fallout of the last one – but he wouldn’t say no to another night in the sack with her.

Would she even entertain the notion?

He had absolutely no clue.

The woman was a total conundrum, so much so, he had no idea what to expect when Lu opened the door to him this time – assuming that she did of course. Maybe she’d have deliberately gone out to make a point.

At least the things he’d sent over seemed to have been taken in and hadn’t been left in a rejected heap by her front door.

He waited, nerves thrumming, for a few more seconds before reaching for the buzzer again. He didn’t want to seem too eager. Based on his previous experience with her, he needed to keep his cool if he was in with a chance of resolving this quickly and successfully.

Just as he gave in to his impatience and moved to push the buzzer again the door swung open to reveal Tallulah in all her glory.

And she really did look glorious. She was wearing a knee-length black dress that hugged her voluptuous curves. The neckline was low, but not too revealing, giving a tantalising glimpse of those magnificent breasts and her hair was swept back into some sort of elegant knot at the back of her head. She looked business-like but classy. And very sexy.

‘You look lovely,’ he said, experiencing a swell of satisfaction as he clocked her answering smile.

‘You weren’t expecting to find me dressed for dinner?’ She looked back at him from under her eyelashes with mischief in her expression.

He battled to ignore an extra hard pulse of sexual heat as he recognised it as the same look she’d given him the other night in his hotel room.

‘To be honest, you’re a bit of an unknown entity at the moment,’ he said with a grin.

She chuckled. ‘Actually, I did consider going out in my band T-shirt, sweats and heeled slippers – which I love by the way – but I thought it might seem rather petty.’

He nodded; pleased she’d acknowledged the slippers and seemed to have appreciated the gesture. He’d worried that that particular present could have gone down very badly, considering how touchy she seemed to be about her height. Luckily humour appeared to have won out. ‘So, you went for pretty over petty.’

Colour flushed across her cheeks at his blatant flattery.

‘You’re full of compliments today, aren’t you?’ she purred, the tone of her voice implying she knew his game and wasn’t falling for it that easily.

‘Just trying to claw back some goodwill,’ he said, leaning in closer to her.

She took a small step back and narrowed her eyes; giving him such a taunting look he felt the power of it deep in his chest. Desire rushed more heat down his spine, but he swept away his urge to push her up against the wall and kiss that look right off her face.

He needed to stay focused and remember they had business to take care of first.

Clenching his hands into fists for strength against the tempting urges, he gestured back out into the hallway of the apartments. ‘So, are you ready?’

‘Yes,’ she said, turning to grab her bag and coat from a hook on the wall.

‘Then let’s go.’

Tristan had called in a favour from a friend and snagged a table at his new restaurant, which was currently the hippest – and most eye-wateringly expensive – joint in town, wanting to ram home to Tallulah that he wasn’t messing about here.

After the taxi dropped them off outside, he guided her in through the large dark-tinted glass doors and gave his name to the ma?tre d’.

They were ushered through the dining room, which appeared to be styled like some kind of 1970s diner – all dark wooden panels, squared off chrome fixtures and boxy orange leather booths – to an octagonal, glass-topped table at the back .

Their waiter brought over complimentary glasses of Appletini and a small bowl of spiced nuts while they perused the menu.

Neither of them said anything to the other until they’d given their food and drink orders, but the tension hummed between them like a stripped livewire.

Lula was the first to break the silence as she watched their waiter walk away.

‘So…’ She crossed her arms in front of her, which automatically drew his eyes to her impressive chest.

He flicked his gaze back up quickly, not wanting to be caught ogling her. Damn, if this wasn’t doing his head in. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t already know how amazing she felt pressed against him and how sweet she’d tasted. How moreish.

Shifting in his seat, he tried not to give away how turned on he was just from sitting opposite her with those incredible memories dancing through his head. ‘So, thank you for coming back to Flash.’

She smiled down at the table. ‘I haven’t agreed to it yet.’

‘Ah, but you will.’

Her gaze snagged with his. ‘You’re very sure of yourself.’

He shrugged. ‘We both know Flash has the potential to be an outstanding radio station – which means accolades and upward career moves for anyone working there – and that you’re the best DJ there by a mile. Everyone I’ve spoken to says so.’

She was looking at him with a concentrated frown on her face now, which she forced into a sad little smile when he raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

‘It’s really nice to hear that,’ she said. ‘No one’s ever told me that before. Jez wasn’t particularly good at boosting staff morale.’

‘So I’ve heard.’

‘I guess I should thank you for taking my concerns seriously. In the end. ’

He leant forwards, splaying his hands onto the table in front of him in a gesture of total openness. ‘Look, I apologise for that. I wasn’t as focussed as I should have been during that session. Meeting you and doing what we did,’ he shifted in his seat as his body responded to the memories again, ‘wasn’t the norm for me. I’ve just come out of a four-year relationship and wasn’t looking for that to happen. It caught me by surprise, and I’m not good with surprises.’

He took a sip of his drink to cover his discomfort. It was harder than he’d anticipated, talking about how he’d reacted to what had happened. It was bringing back the rumblings of unease he’d been supressing since Marcy had left him.

He shook it off and focussed his attention back on her.

She was giving him a speculating look. Was she wondering about how they moved forwards from here too?

‘I hope it won’t affect our working relationship because once you come back,’ he gave her a meaningful look, ‘you’re going to have to put up with having me as your boss until I can find a new station manager to take over.’

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide, then nodded slowly. ‘I guess I should thank you for all the gifts and notes you sent today. I’m very impressed that you remembered all that about me.’ She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and he noticed her fingers were shaking.

‘I bet no woman has ever resisted your wooing,’ she continued, smiling now. ‘If the way you handle your relationships is anything like the way you handle business affairs, they wouldn’t stand a chance. I bet they’re putty in your hands!’

From the colour of her cheeks, it was clear she thought she’d said too much and he experienced an unnerving urge to help her out of her babble loop .

‘To be honest, I’ve never sent a woman flowers before.’ He frowned. ‘Not that I should be admitting to that.’

‘Really?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Maybe that’s why your last relationship broke up.’ She followed her comment with a smile, which quickly dropped off her face when she saw he wasn’t smiling back.

It had suddenly struck him, like a lead bar to the stomach, that he’d never sent anything of a personal nature to Marcy, or any of his other girlfriends, come to think of it. He’d bought them things, sure, but the gifts had never been targeted to them as individuals. They’d been cold, hard objects – symbols of his wealth and status.

He gave himself an internal shake. Time to move the conversation away from him and back onto her.

‘What led you to become a DJ?’ he asked, leaning back in his chair and attempting to relax his tense shoulders.

‘I like the way it allows me to be in control of the conversation.’ She flashed him a self-conscious grin, which he returned this time.

There was a pause in which she straightened her cutlery on the table.

‘I spent a lot of time in my own head when I was young and there’s something really freeing about being given a microphone to speak into without having to see people’s reactions to what you’re saying. Also, I like that people are interested in my opinions and that I can spark interesting conversations with the power of my voice.’

Her cheeks were pink again and he wondered which bit of her answer had made her uncomfortable.

‘Why did you spend so much time in your own head?’

Her gaze flicked to meet his, the expression in her eyes wary.

Yup. That bit.

She sighed. ‘My parents were really young when they had me and hadn’t been together very long – they met at university. Obviously, I wasn’t planned. They were both ambitious and wanted to build their careers and didn’t exactly have a harmonious relationship. They’re both really fiery-tempered and after one of their arguments they often wouldn’t speak to each other for weeks.’

She gave a little shiver. ‘There’s a very particular type of silence between two people who are angry with each other and it made for a really tense atmosphere in the house. I was their only medium of communication – I had to pass messages between them – and I used to get caught in the crossfire of resentment.’ She grimaced and put the tips of two fingers against her temple, pretending to pull a trigger. ‘Shooting the messenger.’

‘Sounds hellish.’

‘Yeah, well, it wasn’t a lot of fun. I’m not a big fan of confrontation so I spent a lot of time hiding out in my room.’

‘You’re an only child?’

‘I was then. I have two half-sisters on my mum’s side and a stepbrother on my dad’s now.’

He nodded, starting to understand where she was coming from.

‘They were very good at providing all the material stuff I needed though, can’t fault them for that,’ she said, with a forced brightness in her voice. ‘My dad paid to put me through university and bought me my apartment to live in. He’s very good at buying his way out of a problem.’ She pinched her eyebrows together in derision.

Tristan felt another thump of disquiet as he thought about how he’d been guilty of the same behaviour whenever he’d upset Marcy by point blank refusing to discuss getting married.

‘What did they argue about?’ he asked, not wanting to dwell on the troubling insight .

‘Ugh! Everything – although mainly about whether they were going to get married.’

His stomach sank further as he realised he’d walked out of the frying pan and straight into the conversational fire.

‘My mum really wanted to, but my dad was dead against it,’ Lula continued, totally oblivious to how much this topic was making him squirm. ‘I think my mum felt he didn’t love her enough to make the commitment and it eroded their relationship so much she went off and had an affair, which split them up. She’s married to the guy she cheated on my dad with now though and couldn’t be happier.’

Tristan snorted, appalled that she clearly believed matrimony was some sort of magic fix. ‘Really? My father’s been married five times and it’s never made him happy.’

‘Wow, that’s… er…’ she was clearly lost for words.

‘Obscene? Yeah. My mum died when I was twelve and he got married again six months after we buried her.’

‘How did that make you feel?’

He shrugged. ‘At the time I was really angry because it was as if he was disrespecting my mum’s memory by moving on so fast – as if she hadn’t even existed, but I came to realise he just couldn’t bear to be alone.’

He cocked a disparaging eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t have minded so much, but I’d just started to get to like my new stepmother when he dumped her and moved on to the next one. Then the next one, then the next.’

He snorted and ran a hand over his hair. ‘I stopped letting myself get close to any of his wives or girlfriends pretty quickly after that. As far as I’ve seen, marriage is nothing but an expensive court case waiting to happen.’

He looked at her to find she was staring at him in dismay .

He flipped her a grin. ‘Hey, just ignore me, it’s a subject that gets me fired up that’s all.’

She frowned as if she’d found what he said sad.

Luckily, their food arrived then and they tucked in, giving him a few moments to pull himself together.

What the hell was he doing talking to her about this stuff? They barely knew each other and here he was spilling his guts. He needed to slap a lid on that quickly – but she was just so easy to talk to with her open expression and kind eyes.

‘So, what are these perks you mentioned in your note?’ she murmured after another minute of silence, not looking at him while she worked her knife carefully through her sirloin steak.

He rested his cutlery on the plate while he addressed her question, glad to get back to a subject he felt comfortable with. ‘Well, Jez had a company mobile phone and a taxi allowance for getting to any functions he attended as the lead presenter at the station…’

He ran through a couple of other entitlements, which to him made the whole deal sound like something someone would be crazy to turn down.

When he’d finished, she nodded and gave a small, controlled smile. Could she really have been expecting more?

‘That’s a good package, Tallulah.’

Her gaze met his and something like disappointment flashed across her face.

‘It’s a very good package,’ she said, sounding as though she really believed it. So why the long face?

He decided to wait until they’d finished eating before pressing on with more business talk, asking her instead about what she liked about living in London and how she spent her downtime.

It turned out they liked to do the same kinds of things: taking long walks on a Sunday morning, eating Indian food, checking out photography exhibitions. The more they talked, the more he found himself relaxing into her company again. She was a superb dinner companion, receptive and responsive in turn – the things that had drawn him to her the other night – and he had to remind himself a couple of times that he wasn’t here on a date with her.

Unless they both decided to take things further again later. His body hardened at the thought.

‘So, are you happy with the terms of my offer?’ he asked, when they’d both cleared their plates and waved away the suggestion of dessert. A coil of tension tugged at his insides as he waited for her answer. Surely, he’d done enough to clinch her return?

‘Yes,’ she said finally, leaning back in her chair looking at him with her bright, steady gaze, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a smile.

‘Yes?’ he repeated, hoping against hope that she was agreeing to come back to Flash but needing to hear those exact words come out of her mouth before he believed it.

‘I’m accepting your offer of re-employment and promotion to Breakfast Presenter.’

He was so relieved he could have kissed her. In fact, he had to grip the edge of the table to stop himself from leaping out of his seat and pulling her out of her chair into his arms.

She must have sensed this impulse because she fixed him with a hard stare. ‘You understand that nothing else can happen between us now though, right? I can’t work for you if everyone at the station thinks we’re sleeping together. I’ll lose all credibility with my co-workers and I’m not prepared to let that happen. It’s really important to me that they respect and trust me so we can function as a team on equal terms. Getting into bed with the boss isn’t something that would go down well. Trust me, I know.’

All the joy had slowly drained out of him as she’d talked, but he managed to nod confidently, clinging on to his professionalism by a thread. ‘Of course, I didn’t come here expecting anything more from you. Just that you’d take your job back.’ He swept a conciliatory hand in her direction, ignoring his self-disgust at voicing such a convincing sounding lie. ‘There wouldn’t be any point us pursuing anything other than a business relationship anyway. As soon as I’ve found a replacement for Jez I’ll be back off to Edinburgh. Back to my life there.’

He could have sworn he saw another flash of disappointment in her face, before she formed a smile and tipped her head in agreement.

She must still feel the same pull of desire that he did. He didn’t believe she could shake him off so easily after what they’d shared. The need to know he was right prodded at the edges of his control.

The next few weeks were going to be a trying time if he had to keep his hands off her, but it didn’t mean he had to totally ignore the irrefutable connection between them.

There was still some fun to be had here.