The kitchen was a whirl of activity. Barely through the door, Michael was ambushed by the cloud of smoke that streamed in all directions from the range cooker at the far end of the room.

Michael stepped back out of the room with a smile and a shake of the head, unfastened the buttons on his suit jacket and slipped it from his shoulders. He hung it up in the hallway, where it would be safe from the cooking fumes.

‘I know you’re out there, Michael Devlin!’

Sarah Truman’s American accent cut through the British voices that were emanating from the kitchen radio.

‘Get your butt in here and get your breakfast.’

Michael strode back through the door, his grin growing wider as he surveyed the chaos of the kitchen. Smoke was still billowing from a thick-bottomed pan containing what had probably once been bacon. Less dramatic were the scrambled eggs that were already on a plate. And as for the sizzle he could hear from a pot of baked beans?

Best not to ask about that one, Michael thought.

‘Effortless as always, sweetheart?’ he asked playfully, stepping behind Sarah and wrapping an arm around her waist.

‘I don’t have time for silly games this morning, Michael.’

Sarah spoke without turning. She ignored Michael as he kissed the back of her neck. Instead she reached out for the plate with the eggs to add the rest of his breakfast.

‘Now sit at the table.’

‘How could I do that?’ Michael took the plate from Sarah’s grasp with one hand as he spoke. He held it high, out of her reach. With his other arm already around her waist, he pulled her into him.

‘When I’ve got the most beautiful woman in London standing right in front of me?’

‘I’m going to drop the pan!’ Sarah laughed as Michael pulled her close, pinning her back against him. He buried his freshly shaved skin into her hair as he kissed her neck again. This time he got the reaction he wanted; Sarah turned her head and met his lips with her own.

‘Happy now?’ she asked as she pulled her face away, at least as far as she could manage.

‘As happy as any man in a burning building could be,’ Michael replied, laughing as he released his grip on Sarah’s waist.

‘Screw you, Devlin!’ Sarah’s mock outrage was well acted, but Michael did not buy it for an instant. ‘It’s not that bad.’

‘Not that bad?!’ Michael laughed as he reached over her shoulder and switched the cooker’s extractor fan to maximum. ‘I almost went looking for our fire blanket.’

‘Do you want your breakfast or not?’

Honest answer? Michael thought. One look into Sarah’s startling green eyes stopped him from saying the words aloud.

‘Yes, yes please,’ he said instead. ‘Sorry.’

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’ Sarah sounded disappointed at her own impatience. ‘Cooking’s just not my forte and it’s frustrating.’

‘I get that,’ Michael replied, placing two glasses of fresh orange juice on the kitchen table and taking a seat. ‘But no one’s good at everything. Sometimes you’ve got to accept your own limitations.’