‘Come, sit down, let’s dive in,’ he says.

I don’t need telling twice. My bum only just touches the blanket before I’m biting down into a Parma ham, mozzarella and sundried tomato sandwich, served in fresh focaccia bread.

‘Oh, my God, this might be the best sandwich I’ve ever had,’ I say through a mouthful.

I don’t know if it’s the authentic Italian ingredients, the stunning location or the fantastic company – perhaps it’s all of the above.

‘I’m glad you like it,’ he replies, before popping an olive into his mouth.

‘This is definitely like something out of a romance novel,’ I tell him, trying to take it all in. ‘It’s just… unbelievable. I didn’t think it happened in real life.’

Freddie removes a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and pops the cork before pouring us each a glass.

I take a sip and it’s so cold and crisp. I feel as if I’m in heaven.

‘Tell me more about your books,’ he says.

‘Erm…’ God, I hate talking about my books. I always feel so silly, as if I’m telling someone about a weird dream I had. Having said that, I’d rather talk about my books than my dream last night. ‘They’re romantic comedies. I get the feeling they’re about to get more com than rom, given how laughable my love life is now.’

‘What did you say your name was?’ he asks, taking his phone from his pocket.

‘Lila Rose,’ I say. ‘Wait, don’t look me up me in front of me!’

‘I just want to see what you’ve written,’ he says. He waits for the go-ahead before he moves another muscle.

‘Argh, okay, sure, go for it,’ I say.

If I wasn’t being shifty around Freddie before, I definitely am now. Sometimes it feels like giving someone a glimpse into my writing is like letting them peer into my soul.

‘Oh, wow,’ he says. ‘Are you the Lila Rose who wrote Spanked?’

‘What?’ I reply. ‘No!’

‘It says so right here on Google, the first result…’

‘What? I definitely didn’t write that. Spanking is more your scene, Mr Eden.’

I don’t know why I’m getting so defensive. It’s as if I think that, if he can tap into my sexual side at all, he’ll see straight through me. He’ll know I’m interested in that side of him, that I had an X-rated dream about him…

‘A-ha,’ he says, gotcha-style. ‘I thought you said you hadn’t seen the movie or read the books.’

He raises his eyebrows and purses his lips knowingly.

‘I haven’t,’ I say, quickly correcting myself. ‘Well, hadn’t. I was curious, so I watched… how did you know?’

‘Because you can hardly look me in the eye today.’ He laughs. ‘My poor mom was exactly the same – I did warn her not to watch, but she was so proud of me for landing such a huge role… for about fifteen minutes of the movie.’

My eyes widen, as I recall the scene he’s talking about. I can’t imagine my mum watching me acting in a sex scene – I won’t even let her read the naughty bits in my books.