And the fridge! It was massive! And it had some seriously fancy controls. Even from the foot of the stairs, I could tell it made sparkling water. I would have bet a million pounds he also had a great knife set, and that the best cookware you could buy was tucked away somewhere. He’d set two places, cloth napkins and all, at one end of the breakfast bar, which seated six.

I managed to take in all these details in about seven seconds. That’s how much I love a good kitchen—even more than a dream bathroom.

“Good morning,” James smiled, as he poured hot water into a teapot. It was probably from the Ming dynasty. I noted he was also wearing a robe.

“Good morning,” I smiled back. “James, your home is really beautiful—all of it—but this kitchen!”

“You like it?”

“I could happily live in this kitchen for the rest of my life. Really, I would sleep on the floor.”

He laughed heartily, throwing his head back. I thought about the two men in the photo in his room and realised I’d forgotten to take a closer look before coming downstairs.

“Well, you’re most welcome to cook in here if you like, but as far as sleeping goes, I’d rather have you in my bed.”

I blushed at that. I mean, how could I not? It made me think of all the things he’d done to me in that bed.

“I made us some toast. My housekeeper, Janice, gets in the most exquisite bread from a bakery not far from here and she makes her own jam.” He pointed a knife towards several jars of jam on the countertop, then used it to butter the toast that popped up.

I took a seat opposite him at one of the place settings. “It smells amazing.”

“I’ve brewed us a pot of tea, too. I usually use teabags, but it’s nice to have someone to share a pot with. I also have an espresso machine if you’d like a coffee later”—of course he does—“but I prefer tea first thing.”

“Me too. And I may say yes to a coffee later. Are you any good?” He cocked his head to the side, then added a bemused smile.

“I couldn’t say. Am I?”

Oh god! “No, I …” How embarrassing. “I meant coffee. Are you any good at making coffee?” I put my face in my hands and shook my head. “You’re laughing at me,” I said through my hands.

He came around to my side of the counter and gently pulled my hands from my face, taking them into his. I couldn’t look at him.

“I am laughing at you, yes. I am an utter bastard. Will you forgive me?” I raised my eyes to his and my breath caught in my throat. “Please?”

I nodded. He leant down and kissed my mouth with a quick smack. “Good. Now I’ll finish making breakfast, so we can eat, and then I shall have you at least once more before we start our day properly.” He waggled his eyebrows at me a couple of times.