‘It’ll survive,’ Michael replied, his eyes drifting to the ice bucket. He was cursing its necessity more with every word Draper spoke. It had become a virtual restraint, holding him in place.

‘I’ve never seen anyone get hit that hard,’ Draper said. Her admiration was making Michael increasingly uncomfortable. ‘He went down like a ton of bricks.’

‘Then you’re lucky, Jenny. You don’t need to be seeing that sort of thing in your life. It’s not . . . it’s not attractive.’

‘Not sure I agree with that,’ Draper said in a low, husky voice. ‘Where did you learn to fight like that?’

‘It’s not something to be proud of.’

Michael took another sip of his whisky.

I don’t like where this is going.

‘Now I definitely don’t agree with that!’ Draper laughed, rapping him lightly on the arm. ‘You dictated that fight. Everything that happened. You made it happen on your terms.’

‘No I didn’t. That wasn’t a film, Jenny. It wasn’t some choreographed bullshit where they come at you one at a time. It was mostly luck.’

Draper said nothing. She just stared at Michael with the hint of a smile. The fight was playing out in her mind. Michael could see that.

Except it’s not, he thought. Not the real one. In her mind it’s already changed. She’s already rewritten it.

‘Anyway, let’s not dwell on it,’ Michael continued. ‘It’s done. It’s over. So let’s move on.’

‘Where to?’

Draper said the words slowly. Deliberately. It was not a tone Michael had heard her use before. But it was one he recognised.

‘Jenny—’

Not waiting for Michael to finish, Draper reached out, took his damaged right hand from the ice bucket and lifted it towards her lips.

Michael pulled his hand away instantly, bashing his injured knuckle on Draper’s hand in the process. It sent a jolt of pain up his forearm.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘What we both want.’

Draper moved closer.

‘Jenny, stop,’ Michael said, his voice firm, but Draper seemed oblivious to his words.

‘I said STOP!’

This time Michael almost shouted. He rose to his feet in a hurry, throwing her off balance.

Draper was visibly shocked and confused by the rejection. She steadied herself as she stepped away from him. Michael had done much the same, so by the time Draper spoke they were half a room apart.

‘Michael, I . . . I . . . this was what you wanted?’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

‘But asking me for a drink? Bringing me back to your room?’

‘Jesus Christ, I didn’t ask you for a drink. I wanted to drink alone. You just insisted on joining me. And as for bringing you to my room, what choice did I have? You think I’d have just left you outside in the street, after what just happened?’

‘But why else . . .’ A look of horror appeared in Draper’s eyes. ‘Oh God, Michael. I didn’t . . . I didn’t . . .’