‘Ava,’ he kissed her cheek. ‘I’m sorry I took the prayer slate from your room. I’m even sorrier I never returned it. It was … weird and wrong on so many levels … even I can’t explain it. But I think all this time I was waiting for something to happen between us, you were already waiting for it to go wrong. And no, I’m not blaming you. I take full responsibility for the disaster that happened at my flat, but still – I think there was something of a self-fulfilling prophesy to it for you.

‘I’m going to France. I’m not here to persuade you differently. But I am coming back and when I do, you and I are going to sit down and work this out. Because I care about you far too much to give up on this – whatever it is – before it’s even started.’

Callanach tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her body forwards to meet his, kissing her gently on the lips and holding her a second longer. Then he let her go.

Acknowledgments

My endless thanks for helping with this book – and keeping me writing in general – go, in no particular order, to …

Caroline Hardman (Agent Extraordinaire), Thérèse Coen on foreign rights, Joanna Swainson and Nicole Etherington from Hardman & Swainson (Best) Literary Agency (In The World). Phoebe Morgan for her pure good nature. Sabah Khan for her boundless energy. Helen Huthwaite for her outstanding instincts. Also to the superlative Avon and HarperCollins team who get these books from concept to production and out into the world – Molly Walker-Sharp, Elke Desanghere, Dom Rigby, Anna Derkacz, Rebecca Fortuin, Laura Daley, Katie Reeves, Hannah O’Brien, Jane Wisbey, Sarah Whittaker and Oli Malcolm. And a special shout out to Cressida McLaughlin for providing me with the name of one of the victims (and to the man himself).

To Tantallon Castle and the lovely people who work there and answer ridiculous questions from visiting authors (if you haven’t been to Tantallon, you must!). To Whighams Wine Cellars in Edinburgh for great food, a wonderful place and a heavenly cocktail menu (I conducted thorough research). To Sandy Bell’s, also in Edinburgh, the place to go. And to Ruth Chambers who tolerates endless location scouting, random archery and menu tasting in the name of authenticity (and possibly the odd hangover).

To my friends and family who listen to me drone on about plots and characters, deadlines and crazy new ideas – you know who you are – I love you all. Not a single word would have been written without you. And especially to David, who orders my favourite teabags from England in advance so that I never run out mid-book and hit a writing crisis.

Thank you x

Can’t get enough of the Perfect series?

Then read on for a sneak peek of Helen Fields’ next book, Perfect Dark.

Chapter 1