When she entered the living room, she was startled to find the floor dotted with pastel-coloured sequined cushions and the large white lengths of tulle she’d bought to drape over the gazebo for the hen party. She nearly laughed because it had transformed the clean, calming cream living room into a bohemian harem.

There was no sign of Henry, other than the soft blanket placed in front of the fire and the two glasses of red wine – Ruby, if she wasn’t mistaken. The whole room had a strange sense of expectation. She passed the two wine glasses placed next to each other and walked over to the window, the rain lashing against it in angry bursts. She flinched when lightning cracked the sky and counted. One, two, three.

Boom.

Not that close, but not that far either. Again, anticipation filled the air. Would the storm turn away from the cove and drift further afield? Out into the sea even? Lily couldn’t help but bite her lip, momentarily unsure she was still thinking of the storm.

Thunder burst through the night sky making her flinch.

‘I didn’t know you were scared of storms.’

She wasn’t surprised by his voice. She’d felt him enter the room in a way that the storm hadn’t been able to disguise. ‘I’m not,’ she denied a little too hotly, because when she turned he’d raised a wry brow. ‘OK, fine. What are you scared of?’

‘Me? Nothing,’ he replied with so much false arrogance she couldn’t help but laugh. When his eyes sparkled in the firelight, she wondered if that had been his intention.

‘And you said you wouldn’t lie to me again.’ Her voice was full of mock disappointment and teasing.

‘OK,’ he said, then reached down to the glass of wine by the fire and passed it to her. ‘Ask me.’

‘What?’

‘Anything.’

‘Anything?’

‘Yes,’ he said, gesturing for her to sit by the fire, as he settled down onto the plush throw he’d placed in front of it, his face a picture of openness and sincerity.

A thousand questions raced through her mind, some deep and personal, some just curious. About him. But all options felt a little too much. His hand was still out between them, waiting for her to join him by the fire. Expectant.

She crossed her feet at her ankles and gently collapsed down onto the throw beside him, causing him to laugh.

‘What?’

‘You looked like a princess deigning to sit on a cloud.’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ he insisted. ‘Never seen anything like it.’

She slapped his hand away. ‘Yoga.’

‘You have time for yoga?’

‘Not always.’

He snorted a half laugh again, making her smile.

‘What’s your favourite colour?’ she asked.

‘I give you carte blanche and that’s what you ask?’ She watched as Henry’s brow arched in the flickering light from the fire.

‘Lulling you into a false sense of security.’