My fingers fumbled with his shirt, undoing the buttons and pulling his shirt free. He grabbed my top, virtually ripping it off me and running his hands up and down my bare skin.

‘We should stop.’

‘Mmm.’

His mouth trailed down towards my collarbone. I felt the damp sheen of sweat but I had no idea whether it was from him or from me.

‘You smell like worm.’

I sniffed and grinned. ‘So do you.’

His fingers tugged at the waistband of my jeans, then dipped below. Coherent thought fled. This had nothing to do with Jamie and me and everything to do with the consuming desire to remind ourselves that we were alive. I fumbled with his trousers, getting the zip caught in the fabric and cursing. Giving up, I knelt down and yanked. There was a loud rip. Within moments we were naked, clinging to each other and falling backwards onto the hard floor. His expression was tense and filled with concentration but, as our bodies rose to meet each other, he began to relax.

It was fast and unromantic but, sod it, it was fulfilling.

Drenched in sweat, we collapsed against the wall. ‘Shit,’ he swore. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’

I touched his cheek. ‘I wanted it too. Don’t apologise.’

Then the door opened. Both Jamie and I froze, our heads turning guiltily towards the interloper. Byron. Of course it was.

His expression was impenetrable as he stared at us with granite-flecked eyes. Jamie sprang up, snatching his clothes to cover himself. I considered doing the same but I wasn’t going to let Byron make me feel ashamed for doing what had felt so natural. It wasn’t like I’d committed adultery. If he wanted to judge, he could go ahead. Besides, he’d already seen me virtually naked.

‘There were reports of a disturbance,’ he bit out. ‘Except now I can see it wasn’t a disturbance at all.’

Jamie flushed. ‘There was a monster. It tried to eat us,’ he said quickly, in a vain effort to explain away our actions.

‘You should go,’ Byron snapped. ‘I want to talk to her alone.’

I was tempted to say to Jamie that he should tell Byron to piss off. Judging by the expression on his face, however, it probably wouldn’t help. With his bundle of clothes still clutched to his body, he darted out of the door.

I got to my feet, deciding to brazen it out. ‘Don’t you knock?’ I enquired.

Byron bent down, grabbed my discarded top and flung it at me. ‘Cover yourself.’

I caught it but made no move to put it back on. ‘If you’re embarrassed, you are free to leave.’

He hissed through his teeth, ‘Is this a ploy to get back at me for Tipsania? Are you trying to make me jealous?’

I blinked. Seriously? ‘No. It had nothing to do with you.’