“It’s still a good idea,” I say heartily. “It’ll be so much fun.” Even I know that sounded like a lie. His brow furrows, so I break into more words. “I can do matchmaking.” I nod furiously. “I will most certainly do that.”

I’ll find him the best bloke imaginable. He deserves nothing less. I rub my stomach. I feel sick.

Charlie

Misha is in a slightly odd mood, but I dismiss it as the strangeness of being apart for six weeks. I don’t think we’ve ever been separated for that length of time, so we’re bound to be a bit delicate with each other. Although not to the extent of me behaving like Princess Aurora as my prince carries my case for me. Mind you, I’ve experienced my fair share of pricks, so Aurora and I have something in common.

“I can do that,” I protest as he carts my case through to my bedroom before dumping it on the bed. His biceps bulge under his suit jacket and I cup one laughingly. “Been at the gym a lot since I’ve been gone? You have been bored.”

I’m so focused on his strange expression that I don’t notice he’s stepped away from me until he’s on the other side of the room. I frown at him. What is the matter with him?

Then I remember the tiredness that had been written all over his face when he’d come home a few minutes ago, unaware that I was watching him. Misha exudes such competence and security that people don’t realise he’s entirely human and can be quite vulnerable sometimes. I’m honoured I get to see that side of him. And the fact that he’s been reluctant to show that side to me lately is unacceptable. I’ve been leaning on him so much, and it’s high time I repay the favour.

“You’re tired,” I say, sitting down on my bed. “I’m going to cook you some nice meals now I’m back.”

“And bake?” he asks hopefully.

I smile. “Anything for you.”

A wry look crosses his clever mobile face as he watches me fold into a cross-legged pose. “How on earth do you manage to contort yourself like that, Charlie? It doesn’t seem natural to be that bendy.”

“It’s perfectly natural in flexible people,” I say calmly. “You should really try yoga or something.”

“I also should really try tightrope walking, but that’s never going to happen either.”

I shake my head at him as I rise from the bed. I begin hanging up the clean clothes from my case, separating the laundry and tossing it into the laundry basket.