‘Mind if I join you?’ he asks, but he knows they can tell it isn’t really a question. ‘Another hot chocolate for everyone?’

Evie narrows her eyes, evidently weighing him up.

‘What?’ Duke blinks, because he’s not going to bring up their fight if she isn’t.

‘Marshmallows and no whipped cream,’ she says, evading his prompt.

‘Cream and no marshmallows,’ Markus says, and instead of going to the counter – because Duke will be damned if he’s leaving them alone for one more second.

He waves at a twelve-year-old kid nearby and says, ‘Hey, do you speak English?’

‘Of course,’ the kid says, in English as good as all the other Germans Duke has met.

‘Want to make fifty euro?’ Duke says, and he knows it’s somewhat of a dick move but he gives him a hundred-euro bill and the kid goes to buy their drinks.

‘You’re unbelievable,’ mutters Evie, but her eyes are crinkled at the edges, betraying her tone. Duke knows he is hazardously close to the fine line between eccentrically charming and douchebag, but given the crinkles … he thinks he’s on the right side.

They talk amiably enough, and Duke hates that Markus isn’t overawed by the fact that they’re here, in this tiny pit stop largely in the middle of nowhere, the last place you’d expect to bump into People Magazine’s Sexiest Man 2018. He takes everything in his stride, and if it wasn’t for the way he keeps looking at Evie, Duke would almost want to be his mate. Except, Markus does keep looking at Evie that way and so Duke needs him to piss off.

‘What are you doing?’ Evie hisses at him when Markus excuses himself to answer a phone call. ‘There are no cameras here, Duke. The show can break for intermission.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Duke replies. ‘I’m talking with our new friend. There’s nothing else to do whilst we wait, is there?’

She shakes her head. ‘What about all of that massively important texting you were so busy with before? Or some more sulking? You’re very good at passing the time that way.’

God, he really does find her sexy, he thinks, quickly followed by: Oh, hell. What? Where did that come from? He looks at her properly then. Her pointed barbs sharpened and designed to kill, her flushed cheeks, the tiny bit of cocoa powder near her nose – she’s amazing.

‘Look, I am sorry about earlier. I was … distracted. Would you like me to get on my knees and apologise one thousand different ways?’ he says. ‘Because I can.’

‘Getting on your knees sounds perfect, actually,’ Evie counters, calling him on it. Duke takes a breath. Well, if that’s what the lady wants …