The linen shirt caressed well-honed muscles. Broad shoulders. A fine body. He had a crystal-cut voice that was as deep as the trouble he’d just got himself into. So OK, maybe he was extraordinary compared to the usual suited and booted or trendy wannabe King’s Road hipster guys that came in after work.

Oh, and then there’d been that deep, low burn she’d felt as her gaze had clashed with his. Something totally elemental and primal. A prickling awareness over her skin. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time, and she had to admit it was happening again as he smiled.

She shook her head. ‘A definite no. Sorry, not sorry.’

‘Way to break a man’s heart.’ He shrugged.

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll survive. There are plenty of women looking for what you’re offering.’ Ignoring the tingles zipping through her, Victoria printed his bill and put it on onto a saucer. She pushed it towards him. ‘Here’s your tab. Sara will ring it up for you.’

Then she turned away and busied herself with wiping down the optics. But out of the corner of her eye she watched him scrape back his stool and take out his platinum credit card, pay, then stride confidently towards the door. She pretended not to be gaping when he turned and gave her a woefully sad smile and playfully tapped his ‘broken’ heart before he disappeared into the night.

When the door closed she felt her body sag on a sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath through the whole interaction. Wow. That connection when they first saw each other had been… weird.

Her friend Sara, standing next to her, gave her a nudge. ‘Whoa. Victoria Scott, he is one hell of a hot dude.’

Yes, he is. ‘Says the woman with the uber hot girlfriend.’

Sara laughed and raised her palms. ‘Sweetheart, just because I don’t work that way doesn’t mean I don’t know talent when I see it.’

Victoria allowed herself to enjoy the fizzy feelings inside her, just for a moment. Because it had been fun and playful but that’s all it was. Then reality – fuelled by her doomed romantic history – slid into her brain, so she put those feelings in a box and closed the lid. ‘Gorgeous, but drunk. He must be to propose to a stranger.’

‘Hmmm.’ Sara’s mouth twisted. ‘He nursed one Macallan the whole time he was here.’

‘A cheap drunk, then.’ Victoria laughed. ‘That’s even worse. What a blow to my ego.’

‘Not at all. He seemed entirely in possession of all faculties, as you would agree, having not taken your eyes off him for the whole time it took him to pay and walk out the door. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer?’

Victoria whirled round to look at her friend. ‘What? Seriously?’