Ihaven’t seen Brendan since that night in the club. Some parts of the evening are seared onto my brain, obviously, but I’ve been trying to conjure Brendan up in my mind on repeat since then, and it turns out my imagination was sub-par. Because, as I turn around in my all-white outfit to greet him, the sheer physicality of him hits me anew like a brick in the face.

Holy crap, he’s big.

And hot.

And… everything.

How can a man have so much swagger just walking through a doorframe?

He grins at me, and it’s slow and dirty and seemingly dripping with every memory of everything we did together a couple of weeks ago. He’s wearing just a pristine white shirt and navy trousers and he looks a million dollars. No tie, no jacket. Men seem to find it so easy to leave the house with absolutely no personal belongings, although I guess if you have a driver, which I’m sure he does, it makes it easier.

‘Mr Sullivan, hiii,’ Terri says breathily, injecting far more enthusiasm into her greeting than she’s shown to me in the past twenty minutes.

Brendan ignores her. He ignores both of them, in fact, making a beeline for me. ‘Fucking hell. Look at you.’ He gives a low whistle.

‘Hi,’ I say. I sound so blooming shy I could slap myself, but come on. He’s looking at me like that, and I haven’t seen him since we got naked, and there are two scary women judging my every move. I’m hardly in the right frame of mind to channel my (non-existent) cool inner goddess.

I’m preparing for, I don’t know, a cheek kiss or something, but he slides an arm around my hip and pulls me to him. His hand finds my very fancy Dior-covered bottom and gropes it as he dips his dark head and kisses me hello.

It is not a cheek kiss.

It’s a familiar, you left my bed a few short hours ago kiss on the lips, and it’s leisurely and entitled and contains the slightest glimpse of tongue, and I’m so taken aback by the shocking hotness of it that I freeze.

He releases my mouth and slaps me on the bottom. ‘This is a great colour on you. How’s it going? Sorry I’m late, love.’

I’m not the only woman who froze at the Brendan Sullivan Effect. Fiona and Terri have been stuck to the spot, silently gaping since he barged in here and kissed me.

Perhaps all the blood in their brains has flooded south.

I know mine has.

Fiona finally speaks up. ‘You’re not…’ She clears her throat. ‘I’m sorry. I thought she was your employee.’

‘It’s Ms Winters to you, and she’s my girlfriend and my newest employee.’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘You didn’t tell them, love?’