She held the phone closer, straining to hear. Yes, it was, the faint rumble of a road.

Damn it.

“Dylan, is that you?”

The phone went dead.

“You… It is you!” All those mysterious calls she’d been having. The ones that made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle and her guts roll. It had been him all along. Pestering her, hassling her, wanting to wind her up. She should have guessed.

Placing the phone on her desk, she stared at it. What should she do? Change her number? No, because what if James called, or her parents, or Georgie or Brendon? It would never work, besides, all her business contacts had that number, it was too important to give up because of Dylan.

“Bloody hell, Dylan. Why don’t you just let it go?” She paced to the window and looked across the street at Frank’s. The sun was spreading light over the cobbles and created a slash of gold over its usually dark windows and door. She longed to see James walking towards the bar the way he always did. Big purposeful strides, head bent if the weather was cool, hands shoved in his pockets and leather shoes beating the cobbles.

Her phone rang again from the desk.

Caller ID withheld.

She hit answer. “Dylan, stop hassling me.”

“Did you get my love letter?”

“Love letter! Creepy letter more like. Give it a rest.”

“But I need to see you, honeypie.” There was a steeliness to his tone. “You can’t ignore my letters and calls.”

So it was all him. He’d given his sick game away now. “No. What’s the point?”

“I’ve lost everything,” he said. “I need you back, and I’m sorry about last night, really I am. I got emotional, carried away. You know you’ve always made me lose my mind when we start getting physical, you’re just so damn irresistible.”

Megan sighed and walked back to the window. A sparrow landed in one of the topiary trees outside Frank’s and pecked at the leaves. “I’ve said everything I have to say to you, Dylan.”

“But I have so much more to say to you, Megan. Please, don’t throw this all away. We have such a bright future.”

“What don’t you get?” She could feel her temper rising. “I don’t want to be with you. I’ve moved on, you need to as well. Find a new girlfriend, make a new future with someone else.”

“But I want you.” His voice was whiney.

“But you can’t have me.”

“Yes I can.”

She heard an intake of air, like he was breathing deep.

“And,” he went on, “I will have you.”

“Oh God!” She stepped backwards.

A large, dark figure had appeared at her window. Shock made her giddy for a second then she saw who it was.

Dylan.