‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’ She turned on her heel and marched out, slamming his door shut, then slamming her own as well. Of all the exasperating people! He was crazy. She should stick to her guns and refuse even to think of marrying him.

Only he was right… she was half-way there.

She went to stare at herself in the bathroom mirror and saw a face where fear was the dominant emotion. She didn’t like that. She wasn’t a coward – was she?

Going back into her room, she lay down on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. No, that was too hot. She tossed them off again. The pillow was hard. She punched it a few times, but it stayed hard. And she stayed wide awake.

After a few minutes she gave in and sat up. There was no way she was going to get to sleep. No way in the world. Switching on the light she looked for the book she usually kept next to her bed, then remembered that she’d forgotten to bring one in her hurry. She lay down again.

But the thought of marrying Ben wouldn’t go away and his words kept echoing round her brain. Why not take a risk and marry me?

She crept into her bathroom again, trying not to let him know she was still awake. When she looked into the mirror, she didn’t look scared this time, but she did look apprehensive. Was that an improvement?

‘Dare I?’ she asked her reflection.

Why not? It seemed to reply.

She clapped one hand to her mouth. She was going crazy.

But her blood was singing through her veins and she felt more alive than she had done for years.

‘Am I really thinking of accepting?’ she asked herself again as she crept back to her bed.

Yes, she was.

She didn’t expect to get to sleep, but no sooner had she made that decision than she began to relax. She woke to find it daylight and herself lying in a tangle of bedcovers.

Someone knocked on the door. ‘Megan, are you all right?’

She blinked and sat up. ‘Yes. Um, what time is it?’

‘Nearly nine o’clock.’

‘Heavens, it’s not like me to oversleep. Give me half an hour.’

‘I’ll get them to send breakfast up here. We haven’t finished our talk yet.’

‘You are stark raving mad, Megan Ross,’ she told the tousle-headed idiot in the mirror.

The idiot smiled back at her. ‘I know.’

She stepped into the shower, still smiling.

When she went out into the sitting room he was waiting for her. She looked at him and as he raised one eyebrow, she gave him a rueful smile and asked, ‘Do you think craziness is infectious?’

His smile lit up the room. ‘Does that mean you’ll marry me?’