They’d developed a habit of creating a buffer zone after he’d been hunting because Hannah loathed it. She didn’t see his contention that ‘elk would take over the country if they weren’t hunted’ made bloodlust less distasteful or less alien to his otherwise citified, sophisticated lifestyle. As a result, he hadn’t introduced her to a single one of his hunting buddies and kept his gun in a friend’s gun safe.

But, with a sinking feeling, Hannah knew that wasn’t the reason he didn’t shower and get into bed with her.

She turned over and smothered a sigh. Their breathless, dizzy dance was over and their relationship was moving to the slowing rhythm of the last waltz.

Chapter Three

Back home in London on Tuesday morning, Nico ran eight kilometres on the treadmill in his bedroom then jumped into the shower, still breathing hard. He was tight for time and performed his hamstring stretches at the same time as soaping up.

Emelie, his younger cousin who lived with him while ‘doing uni’ would be getting Josie up and dressed. Nico would then enjoy breakfast with his daughter before Tilly, the nanny, arrived at seven-thirty and Nico zipped off to work. He loved Josie as fiercely as any parent had loved any child, ever, but he had to earn money. A Josie-centric mini-economy of home and household depended on it.

His new boss at SLS, Anders, had not so far shown himself to be overly sympathetic to Nico’s situation as a lone parent. Or sympathetic to any staff member’s needs outside devoting themselves to SLS.

He hadn’t minded spending the two-hour flight home from Stockholm last night typing emails ready to send on landing, along with a text to Rob Goodbody. Saw Hannah. Seems OK. Afraid she realised you’d sent me but no explosion ensued. Call me if you want to chat more. Once home, he’d been too tired to do much more than fall into bed but now Hannah’s clumsy but well-meaning attempt to feed him revolved in his head. After towelling off, he forced himself to stand naked before the bathroom mirror.

Shit. He was thin. Unhealthily so. He was saved from puniness by his exercise habit but his cheekbones jutted, his jawbone was a blade and he could count every rib. Angry with himself he shaved, dressed in a white shirt and charcoal trousers then went online and booked a haircut at Trimsters Male Grooming at two. He could use the lunch hour he didn’t usually take.