It was a man she had never seen before, fast asleep, curled up with a hedgehog in his lap.

CORMAC HAD THOUGHT he would just pop in, grab a change of clothes, feed Neddie, and go again. He knew what time the train got in; then she had to get the bus, so he wouldn’t disturb her. He toyed with leaving a letter saying sorry but figured it might be creepy and decided against it. He had let himself get completely out of control; it was a silly crush and there was no point pushing it any further.

The sun was streaming in the garden, and he realized, as he fed Neddie little grubs with his hands, suddenly just how exhausted he was from driving all night. The hedgehog snuffled as Cormac slumped down onto the stone by the undergrowth, steadily warmed by the sun. He would get up and head out in just a minute . . . but it was so soothing simply being home. Just to breathe the air of his homeland, just to let all the stress and pressure of the city rush out and fade away . . .

HE DIDN’T LOOK at all as she’d expected.

But the hair was the same as he’d drawn in the pictures: curly, overgrown, a little unruly. And it would take quite a burglar to fall asleep in a garden not his own.

Apart from that, he was much larger than she’d imagined: not fat, but solid; broad shouldered, heavy legged, more like a soldier or a rugby player than came across when he wrote. She couldn’t see his eyes, but dark lashes left shadows on ruddy cheeks, and there was bristle on his strong chin. He wasn’t at all like she’d conjured in her head. But . . . but there was something in the large bulk of his shoulders, the careless tangle of hair, the wide mouth that looked as if it would laugh easily.

She couldn’t stop staring. He was breathing evenly. The little hedgehog snuffled in his lap, entirely comfortable in his presence. What on earth was he doing here?

HE NEVER KNEW what woke him. One minute he’d been to see Neddie, the next—the sun was beaming straight into his eyes, and Lissa was standing over him, her face hidden by the sun. All he could see was a full head of bouncing curls. He squinted upward, confused: Was he asleep? Dreaming? Where was he? What was happening?

Suddenly:

“YOW!”

He jumped up. He had somehow woken Neddie, who had responded in the only way he knew how, and now he had a big jab in his hand.

Lissa couldn’t help it. She dissolved completely in giggles. Neddie was still hanging on to Cormac’s hand for dear life, his tiny paws scrabbling in the air.