Drew stroked her hair away from her face. The touch of his fingertips on her heated skin was like dripped trails of iced water. She shivered. He kissed her with the same slow expertise, opening her lips with his own, using his tongue. The kiss wasn’t a prelude to lovemaking; it was the act itself.

His fingers stroked her breasts through the velvet. She had never experienced such delightful torment. She wanted him to make love to her. Not slowly and tantalisingly, but quickly and roughly, releasing and relieving the frustration.

Drew dragged away from her. ‘Jesus Christ, Maddy … What are we doing?’

‘Playing a very dangerous game. And one you obviously know the rules of better than I do. I’ve had too much to drink and you probably haven’t had enough.’

Drew ran his fingers through his dark hair. It flopped forward silkily, making him look very young. ‘I haven’t had enough of you.’

‘You’re married. Married.’ It was an anguished whisper. ‘I like your wife. She’s in the next room. For God’s sake, Drew – it’s just lust or something.’

‘More or something. Although I think there was an element of lust there.’ He was breathing more easily. ‘What do you want me to do?’

Maddy took a verbal cold shower. ‘Take the bread through, please. I do look like a tart now …’ She glanced down. Her nipples were protruding through the velvet like acorns.

Drew picked up the baskets of bread and smiled. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous.’

The pasties were enthused over. Everyone ended up eating them with their fingers, breaking off hunks of bread, washing it down with copious swigs of whatever alcohol came to hand. Luke and Suzy were feeding each other. Maddy shot covert glances at her parents but they were both squiffy and hadn’t noticed.

‘We were talking about children while you were in the kitchen, Maddy.’ Mrs Beckett’s voice was rich with sherry. ‘I said I’d given up hope of ever being a grandmother.’

Give Suzy and Luke a few more minutes, Maddy thought sourly, and I’m sure they’ll sort that out for you.

‘I was saying we’ve got seven,’ Bronwyn Pugh trilled. ‘Four boys and three girls and our Natalie’s expecting again.’

‘Really?’ Fran was supporting Richard as he chomped through his pasty. ‘We’re hoping to add to the family. Chloe and Tom are desperate for a baby brother or sister. We’re hoping we’ll be able to afford it now Richard’s with Diana and Gareth. Maybe next year …’

‘Shooner.’ Richard jerked upright and nearly tumbled from the ottoman. Maddy felt she should have given him something with a back. ‘If I win The Derby. We’ll have the money then, y’see. Fran can give up work.’

‘Still, next year will be soon enough.’ Fran’s eyes were bright with desperation. ‘I enjoy my job and –’

‘No chance of winning the fucking Derby with fucking Delaney sniffing around Diana Cow-Face-Bloody-James-Jordan.’ Richard took solace in another pasty.

‘Well, really!’ Bronwyn Pugh bridled. ‘Language!’