As she opened the windows to her hotel room wide, she was thankful for the rush of cool morning air and breathed it in deeply. She had to leave behind everything that had happened the day before and concentrate on the work she wanted to do. She could, and would, be strictly professional with Ewan. She’d be on her best behaviour and drink in all the great advice he could give her.

She would also not think about Lorcan or his sad face. Or about Erin’s jealousy theory.

Today would be all about her work, both hers and Ewan’s. He had planned a busy day for them. They were due to pack up and move on to their next stop close to Malin Head – the most northerly point in Ireland. She wondered whether Ewan would share with her what his next book was about and what part Donegal would play in it. She was intrigued to find out how he kept his writing fresh and original.

See, she told herself as she touched up her under-eye concealer to try and make herself look a little more human, she was already focusing on work and not any other distractions.

Unlike Jo, Ewan looked fresh and unnaturally handsome when she met him for breakfast.

‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked, as she almost begged the waitress to replace her small coffee cup with a mug, or perhaps a bucket.

‘I was a bit wired. A lot to think about. I tossed and turned a bit,’ she said.

‘I hope I didn’t overload you with stuff,’ he replied, genuine concern on his face. ‘I get a bit carried away when I’m really invested in a story. Don’t be afraid to put me in my place. You have to remember this is your book. Your story. Your life. I’m just one writer, who doesn’t necessarily know more than anyone else.’

‘The Sunday Times bestseller title and the successful TV series might say differently,’ Jo said as she took her first sip of coffee and enjoyed feeling the caffeine infuse into her bloodstream.

‘We all have our doubts,’ he admitted. ‘We’re all just chasing the next story. The next big idea.’ He gave a soft, self-deprecating smile. ‘It’s the best industry in the world, and I can’t imagine ever doing anything else, but there are times when it feels a bit overwhelming. I never take success for granted, which is why I want each book to be better than the last. The problem being that every time I finish writing a book, I tend to be absolutely sure that my well is dry and I’ll never write again. Thankfully, most of the time, a new story pops into my head after a few weeks.’