My stomach did a flip-flop and I giggled in response. As hungry as I was—and I was pretty much starving after all the physical activity we’d had the night before—I was very much looking forward to being in James’s bed again. He grinned at me from his post across the counter. I was starting to think he really could read my mind.

We ate side by side at the breakfast bar, chatting about Paddington and what he liked about living there. He was right about that bread, too. It was grainy and delicious, and he’d toasted it perfectly. I can’t abide people who would wave a piece of bread over a candle flame and call it toast.

It was also impossible to choose between Janice’s fig, strawberry, and rhubarb jams, so I had some of all three. With several slices of toast and more than my share of a giant pot of tea, I had managed to make quite a pig of myself.

“Yum!” I said, wiping toast crumbs from my mouth with a cloth napkin.

“Happy?” he asked, as he got up and took my plate. He’d asked me that the week before at lunch. And like then, I knew he was just asking if everything was okay. I realised, though, that I was happy being there with him eating toast and drinking tea.

“Deliriously.” All I needed was to move the whole thing upstairs to the window seats and I’d be living out my fantasy. I got up and started helping to clear away the detritus of breakfast.

“Good.” He took the mugs from my hands and placed them in the sink. “Let’s leave all that for now.” Then he kissed me deeply, his hands on the small of my back pulling me towards him.

He broke off the kiss and I bit my lip. “Bedroom?” I asked.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Bedroom. Now.”

I have no idea what got into me, but I replied with, “Race you there.” Then I turned and ran up two flights of stairs, James fast on my heels. In his bedroom he captured me around the waist, flinging us both onto the bed. I dissolved into giggles, breathless from running up all those stairs. James’s face, just inches from mine, broke into a broad smile. I sighed, contentedly.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” he said. Then he enveloped me in his arms and kissed me. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and happily let him ravish me again—twice.

*

I was lying on my side, my head on James’s chest while he stroked my hair. I pushed myself up onto one elbow and our eyes met. “I meant to ask you something earlier, but only just remembered.”

“What’s that?” His hand continued to play with my hair. I had no idea how bad it looked unfettered and sex-mussed—most of the hairpins had flown out during my run up the stairs.

“The photo over there …” I looked towards the photo of the two men. “Who is that?” He must have known exactly what I meant, because he didn’t even glance towards his dresser. “That’s me with my brother, Christian.”