He yawned, then looked at her wryly. ‘Don’t go yet. It’s only jetlag. I was in New York two days ago.’

‘Is it as wonderful as they say?’

‘It’s a pretty lively place. But I’ve had enough of cities. Which was why I booked in here. I fancied a few days of lazing around, going for long walks in the countryside.’

A knock on the door heralded the desserts they’d chosen. Megan’s spécialité de la maison turned out to be two swans made of meringue swimming across a sea of apricot sauce, surrounded by pretty arrangements of exotic fruits. It vanished all too quickly and she looked up to find him yawning again.

She pushed her plate aside and stood up. ‘I’d better go now. You look exhausted. Thank you so much for the dinner. It was delicious.’

To her disappointment, he didn’t protest but rose with her and moved towards the door. Once there he took her in his arms. She’d been hoping all evening that he’d kiss her, though it couldn’t lead anywhere, of course. She wasn’t into one-night stands and they’d probably never meet again.

But still, a kiss could sweeten the memory.

This one didn’t stay sweet for long. It went from gentle to passionate in about ten seconds flat. When he moved his lips away, it took her a minute to open her eyes.

Looking surprised, he let out his breath in a long, slow exhalation as he stared at her.

Was he going to kiss her again? She hoped so. But to her disappointment he stepped back a pace. She turned towards the door, determined not to betray how she felt.

‘Will you spend tomorrow with me, Megan?’

She turned back, joy zipping through her. ‘I’d like that. Though I’ll have to check with the garage about when my car will be ready. What were you thinking of doing?’

‘Flying to the moon, maybe, if you light my touch paper again.’ He chuckled quietly. ‘How about going for a nice long walk? You said you loved the countryside and I’ve had all too few chances to enjoy it in recent years. You can teach me about the local birdlife. Then lunch in a country pub, maybe, followed by a stroll on the nearest beach?’

‘Sounds like my sort of day.’

He walked with her along the corridor to her room, waited until she’d opened the door, then nodded farewell. She couldn’t resist lingering to watch him go.

A few paces away, he hesitated, then turned to ask, ‘Breakfast at eight? Meet you in the restaurant?’

She nodded, closed the door and sagged against it, beaming. He wanted to see her again. He really did.