He laughs—a warm, rich sound that makes the corners of my mouth tick up against my control.

I offer my hand. “Magnus,” I say. He eyes me for a second and then slides his palm into mine.

“Lovely to meet you.” His fingers are long and slender, with nails bitten down to the quick.

My hand tingles, and I swallow and quickly let his hand go. He hasn’t given me his name, and just as I wonder if this was deliberate, his lips twitch. The teasing light in his eyes makes me want to smile.

“So, are you alone?” I ask and inwardly curse. I don’t want him to think I’m flirting. He’s not my type at all.

He shows no sign of falling for my charms, though. “I’m not,” he says. “I’m eating with Miles Bannister.”

“Judge Bannister?” I say slowly.

“Yes, do you know him?”

“I should do. I was in his court this morning.”

“Soliciting?” he says.

I laugh. “Hardly. I’m a QC.”

“How lovely,” he says politely and with no sign of being impressed, which is ninety percent of the population’s response after watching legal dramas like Silk or Crown Court.

I’m reluctantly intrigued.

“So, you’re eating with him? I’m surprised you’re still awake.” He looks startled, and I lean closer and whisper, “He’s a frightful bore.”

His lip twitches. “You don’t say.”

“Oh yes. Terrible. Better than a sleeping tablet. I know him professionally, but I also have a personal connection to his family—”

“Magnus?” a deep voice interrupts from behind me.

I straighten and turn. “Judge Bannister.”

“Good job this morning. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say politely.

He settles back into his seat at the table. “Do you know my stepson, Laurie?”

“I know your stepdaughter, Lennie, sir,” I say slowly, thrown by the question. Is Bannister getting dotty in his old age? “Remember? She’s married to my best friend. And I know Luke, your stepson who lives in the flat opposite mine.” The judge has a shocking number of stepchildren, and I can never keep track of them. Nor have I wanted to. “But I’ve never met Laurie.”

“Well, you were just talking to him.”

Shit. I glance down to find my stranger looking at me. His eyes are gleaming with barely repressed humour.

“How nice to meet you,” I say slowly as he finally loses the battle and bursts into laughter.

Chapter Two

Magnus

Later that evening, I stand outside the door of the opposite flat. I clear my throat and run my finger around the collar of my shirt. Shit.

I reach up and resolutely ring the doorbell. I wait, but nothing happens, so I ring it again. I hear faltering footsteps and the sound of the latch being lifted before the door swings open.

“You,” he says.