“Option two is that you go back to the cottage and change.”

“Or there’s option three,” she croaked, “which is that I stay home alone.”

His eyes were hooded. “I didn’t give you an option three.”

They’d reached a crossroads. A point where a decision had to be made.

Feeling as if she were plunging into the deep end of the swimming pool, she took a deep breath. “I’ll take option two.”

As she dropped Lizzy off with Lisa and the twins, she felt like a teenager on her first date, and the nerves increased as she drove back to the cottage to shower and change. By the time she walked up the steps to Ryan’s apartment, she felt slightly sick, and the feeling intensified as he opened the door.

This wasn’t an afternoon with Lizzy as the focus. It wasn’t a swimming lesson where the objective was improving her stroke and confidence in water. This was a date. Just the two of them. Man and woman.

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Don’t tell me—you’ve spent the last two hours thinking of all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Maybe it’s a mistake.”

“Maybe.” He stood to one side to let her in. “But most mistakes don’t smell the way you do, so I’m willing to take that chance. I have champagne in the fridge. Hopefully that will numb your panic.”

Was it panic? She wasn’t sure. It felt more like excitement with a heavy dose of nerves. It was the first time she’d been in his home, and it took her breath away. Acres of glass offered spectacular views over the bay, and the setting sun sent slivers of gold across the darkening ocean. The place was designed to make you feel as if you were part of the scenery, not just an observer. You could almost smell the sea and feel the wind in your hair. It should have unsettled her, but didn’t. Maybe it was because she was slowly getting used to the sea, or maybe it was because from up here it felt as if they were suspended above it, safe from the dangerous lash of the waves.

As for the apartment, the decor was exactly as she would have predicted: sophisticated, minimalist and masculine, everything chosen for its clean lines and simplicity. The kitchen area was a gleaming run of polished steel, sleek and practical. The walls that weren’t glass were lined with bookcases, and in one corner a spiral staircase wound its way up to a sleeping shelf.

“What’s up there? Your bedroom?”

“No. An obscenely large TV and my state-of-the-art sound system.”

She laughed. “It’s amazing.” It was also the least child-friendly apartment she’d ever seen. “It has the feel of a loft. This will probably surprise you, but I could sit and look at this view all day.”