‘What are you doing?’

‘Just checking,’ I mumbled. ‘I hoped you were a figment of my imagination.’

‘Clearly I am not.’

‘Clearly.’ I turned on my heel, leaving him where he was, and stumbled into my bedroom. I flopped onto the bed and heaved my duvet over me. I had barely a moment’s grace, however.

‘Get up,’ he ordered from somewhere overhead.

‘Go away.’

‘It is time to get moving. I didn’t say I’d meet you at dawn, I said we were starting in the gym at dawn. If I left you to your own devices, you’d show up several hours late. This way, by the time we get there the sun will be rising and we’ll be bang on time.’

Not only was he an early morning freak, it also appeared he was Mister Pedantic. I didn’t even bother answering. I needed more sleep. A moment later, I heard his footsteps as he walked away. Excellent. Normal people did not wake up at this hour. Winter needed to realise that I wasn’t going to be pushed around. I sighed happily and snuggled further in. Then the duvet was whipped off and something very wet and very cold splashed across my face.

‘What the—’ I sat up, spluttering. It happened again. Coughing and choking, I leapt out of bed towards him, droplets of water flying everywhere. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘You’ve got ten minutes,’ he said shortly, placing the now empty glass of water on the bedside table. ‘Then we are leaving.’

‘This is my house!’ I howled. ‘Who do you think you are?’

‘Our work is very serious. We could be given an assignment at any moment, Ms Wilde. We need to be ready.’

I drew myself up, thoroughly pissed off. ‘It’s not our work. It’s your work. I’m the one saving your skin by helping out, so I think it’s time you showed me some respect. You can’t barge into my home and chuck cold water all over me just because you’re a sado-masochistic bastard with a hard-on for self-flagellation. This is assault!’

A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘I think you’re taking things too far. You’re hardly in any pain.’

‘What about psychological damage?’

‘At this rate, I’m the one who’s going to be psychologically damaged from our relationship. Besides,’ he added with the faintest touch of smugness, ‘you’re now obviously wide-awake. Change your clothes and let’s get a move on.’

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go shove it. If my bed hadn’t been soaking wet and my neck hadn’t hurt from crashing out on the sofa, I probably would have done but I could hardly go back to sleep now. Instead I counted to ten and crossed my arms. ‘You can’t treat me like this,’ I told him, forcing myself to breathe deeply and calm down. ‘I’m not in the Order. I’m not your minion. You know very well I’m doing you a favour by helping you out.’