The bed was a few short steps away but they never made it that far because her foot tangled with his and she lost her balance and, in trying to save her, he lost his balance, too. They tumbled to the floor and he broke her fall, smacking his head and his elbow in the process.

She gasped. “Are you—?”

“I’m okay, I’m fine.” His mouth was back on hers and he kissed her fiercely, desperately, which suited her fine because it mirrored the way she was feeling.

She heard a noise in the distance, a faint buzzing, but she ignored it until he lifted his head.

“Maybe I’m not fine. I hear buzzing—”

“I hear it, too...” And then she remembered. “It’s my phone. It’s my reminder to toast the pine nuts.”

His mouth was a breath away from hers, his gaze unfocused. “Toast the pine nuts?”

“Never mind.” Neither of them could hold the thought for long enough to follow through and she pulled him back to her, feeling the heavy weight of him pressing her into the floor, the slide of his hand between her legs.

She felt hot, so hot, and she lifted herself against him as they made love with frantic, urgent, furious haste until the whole world exploded and she clung to him and he clung to her, both of them panting for air as they came back down to earth.

They lay there breathless, locked together, and then the alarm went again.

Nate lifted his head. “You obviously had a desperate need to toast pine nuts.”

She started to giggle. She was lying here naked with Nate, on a hard, uncomfortable floor, like teenagers. And they were talking about pine nuts.

“That’s not the pine nuts. That moment has passed.” She slid her hand over his bare chest. “This is the reminder to turn the heat up under the Mediterranean chicken.”

He raised himself on his elbow, studying her face. “You’ve set alarms for every stage?”

“Yes. I was determined to get it right and produce a perfect meal. I wanted to impress you. And now it’s all messed up.”

“I’m already impressed.” He reached out and stroked her hair away from her face. “I haven’t had sex on the floor since I was seventeen. And that was with you.”

“Was it more comfortable back then? I can’t remember.”

“Probably not, but we didn’t have a massive bed as an option.” He pulled her closer. “You’re beautiful, Jo. So beautiful.”

“So are you. We should make the most of it, because tomorrow we’re both going to be covered in bruises.”

He winced. “That could be true. Do you want to take an icy shower?”

She laughed. “No. Do you?”

“No. But we could swim in the sea. That would have the same effect.”