Laurie looks over at the dog, who has moved on to kicking over his water bowl and spreading the contents all over the mess of bedding.

Laurie turns back to me and grins, displaying that curiously enticing dimple. “It figures. He’s obviously your spirit animal.”

I ignore the fool and follow the woman, who is making great haste to get me into the office, probably before I can change my mind.

* * *

An hour later, we step out of the shelter and turn to look at each other. Laurie has a smile that is begging to escape the tight control he has over his mouth at the moment. I raise my eyebrows, and he gives in and lets loose with a peal of laughter. It lasts for a long time and ends with him bent double, holding on to his knees.

I stand patiently, checking my watch and trying not to smile. Eventually, he straightens. He takes one look at me and goes off into another fit of laughter.

I roll my eyes. “I should obviously have considered a career on the comedy circuit, yes? It would have been a much cheaper alternative to the law.”

He brushes his fingers under his eyes to catch the tears. “Please promise me one thing.”

“Probably not.”

That sets him off again, and I can’t help my smile as he clutches at my arm. “Promise me I can be there when you introduce that dog to your flat,” he gasps. “Please. I’m begging you.”

“I’m disinclined to grant that request,” I say loftily. “On the grounds that you are a certified imbecile.”

More laughter follows, and I start off walking along the pavement. I look around for a taxi, and he comes up next to me. “Where are you going, Mags?”

“Home. I’ve had rather a busy day in case you missed it.”

“I couldn’t do your job,” he says. “All that standing up and talking endlessly.”

“That’s the prosecution,” I say sourly. “He was wordier than Shakespeare today.”

He snorts and puts an imploring hand on my arm to stay my progress. “Ignore the taxi. Let’s go and get a drink.”

“Did you not have enough last night?”

“I said a drink. I never mentioned a bottle.”

I bite my lip to stop a grin. “Where are you thinking?” I ask. “Make it nice, or I’m taking myself home.”

He gazes at me, thoughts running through those pellucid eyes. They’re concealed by his glasses again today, and I wonder how his head is. A shiver of unease runs through me. I’m becoming far too interested in him.

As if sensing my incipient panic, he turns and starts walking briskly along the pavement. “I know just the place,” he assures me as I hurry to keep up. “It’s very highbrow and very you. You’ll love it.”