Probably it had been her own fault, but her life had been littered with bastards: charming bastards, bastards who used her – even one memorable bastard who spent the night with her and then, to her eternal humiliation, tried to charge her for it. For the first time she could remember, a decent man had sailed onto her horizon, and she wasn’t going to let him go.

The difficulty, of course, was his very niceness – the thing that made him different and desirable. He was, she could sense, riven by feeling loyal to his wife, yet wanting someone who made him feel appreciated. Any other man would have jumped into bed with her already. Seduction was supposed to be all about signals, and she’d given him more green lights than the Orient Express. But he was still hovering on the brink.

So far, she’d respected it, understanding that affection was an important tool in landing him, instead of jumping on him and unzipping his fly with all the subtlety of a Russian hooker.

But she was beginning to lose patience. Soon she’d have to take drastic action.

If only she could think what action that should be.

And she’d have to keep under Jackie’s radar, too. She added another layer of black mascara and gave the whole thing some serious consideration.

David had thought hard about tonight. Bratenac tended to have restaurants that were all about the food rather than an atmosphere of intimacy, but there was one he’d noticed in the old town that seemed unusually dark and candlelit, so he booked that. It was called La Pomme d’Amour – the apple of love – perhaps in some veiled reference to Aphrodite and the golden apple.

‘What a lovely place,’ commented Steph as she sat down opposite him a little later. ‘I’ve never noticed it before. But then I suppose I’m usually scurrying off to the market to buy exciting onions.’

‘You work so hard,’ David sighed, as if this was somehow his fault.

Steph reached out for his hand across the table, recognizing his comment as the olive branch it was intended to be.

‘So do you.’ She squeezed his hand affectionately.

‘I’m not always sure you think so,’ he smiled at her. She’d forgotten how attractive his smile was – in fact, how attractive he was altogether.

‘I just get grouchy sometimes, that’s all,’ Steph apologized. ‘You shouldn’t mind me. You know I love you.’

‘Do I?’ The uncertainty in his voice took her aback.

‘Yes. Let’s get a drink.’ She signalled to the waiter, who poured them both a glass of champagne. She held hers up. ‘To us. We’ve been together a long time. Sometimes maybe we forget to appreciate each other.’

His eyes held hers with a sudden intensity and he knew that he had to tell her the truth about the business, even though it might spoil their evening.