“Thank you,” he whispers into my ear, and I shudder. It isn’t inconspicuous, either. It’s a full-body judder, but I can’t help it. He’s so close to me, his hand warm on my thigh and his warm breath playing across my ear. To my horror, I feel my cock stir, and he goes completely still as if sensing it.

I look determinedly down at the table but when his grasp doesn’t ease up, I sneak a glance at him. He’s staring at me, his eyes dark and peculiarly intent, seemingly focused on my lips. As an experiment I run my tongue over my bottom lip and feel his hand tighten. I can’t help my gasp this time because he’s about two inches away from my cock, which is rock hard now. His gaze shoots up, and for a long second our eyes tangle.

Then Nina says something in a querulous tone, and the intimate bubble pops. His hand moves away from my leg, and he faces forward, talking to her, but I can see that his breaths are fast and unsteady. Like mine. Shit.

When dinner is finished, which is considerably before my appetite is satisfied, Frances stands up. She’s dressed in a black cap-sleeved dress and looks poised and attractive. She claps her hands to get our attention. “The older members of the party are going to the Blue Room to carry on their evening. We’ve got something different planned for everyone else,” she says.

“Will the older people be eating?” I say hopefully to Zeb. “Because I vote we go with them if that’s the case.”

He rolls his eyes and focuses on Frances.

“The rest of us,” she’s saying, “are going to play a game.”

“I’m not sure about this,” I hiss. “I’ve read books about the upper class and their parties. I don’t wish to be corrupted.”

He turns a gaze brimming with mirth on me just as Frances says excitedly, “We’re going to play hide-and-seek.”

I make a moue of disappointment, and Zeb chuckles. “I’d love to live in your head,” he mutters and pauses. “But only after I’ve taken Valium.”

I nudge him, trying not to laugh as Frances carries on talking, giving us an incredibly long list of rules that seem to go on forever.

“This is like the Geneva Convention version of hide-and-seek,” I whisper. “I vote we go and do something else.”

“And,” Frances says excitedly, “the prize is an all-expenses-paid week in the Caribbean.”

“Oh, well now, that’s different,” I say hurriedly. He raises an eyebrow, and I shake my head. “We should endeavour to take part in this wonderful event,” I say piously to him. I grab his hand. “Come on. Get up quickly because we need a fucking great hiding place. We’re going to win that prize.”