“Megan, wait,” he called as she turned left at the end of Change Street. Damn it, he’d messed this up so much, she didn’t even want to walk next to him. For crying out loud, she was actually running now! He could hear her clipping along the pavement like a bolting pony.

He pushed into a sprint and turned the corner. A cab had pulled up at her side and she climbed in without even a backward glance at him.

“Megan,” he said again, quieter, to himself as he came to a halt. “I’m sorry.”

The cab navigated into the stream of traffic, the red taillights becoming lost in the sea of cars.

Well, that had been a first—he’d messed up so badly with a woman she’d actually run away from him. He really was losing his touch, his own fault probably, for leaving it so long and working too damn hard. His mastery over the opposite sex had upped and vanished.

“I can’t and won’t live with that. It’s all wrong and not a true portrayal of these peoples’ plight, we have to make it real.” James was cranky as he worked in the editing suite at Grace Studios. He’d snapped at his colleagues all morning and nothing seemed to be going right. He’d been in London for six months making this documentary and now in the final stages, the pressure to get it right was running high.

“Hey, take a chill pill,” Grant said, shaking his head at James.

“Well, it’s just…”

“It’s fine, it just needs tweaking.” Grant frowned. “What’s the matter with you today anyway?”

James sighed and rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “Nothing.” Well, he was hungry but that wasn’t really the problem. Though he would have to feed himself soon, grab something from the canteen.

“Doesn’t look like nothing. You can be a grumpy SOB when we’re finishing up a project and I know it’s all about the fine details, but this takes the damn biscuit.”

James reached for his coffee and took a sip. He glanced at the door, wondering how long it would be until the other members of the team came back in.

“What? You gonna tell me or what?” Grant said, sitting back and crossing his arms. “‘Cause I’m all ears, mate, and we’re all alone. And if you get whatever this is off your chest, you might be a bit easier to put up with for the rest of the day.”

James pressed his lips together. If he really thought about it, he could still feel Megan’s lips against his, taste her honeyed tongue, feel her soft body pushed into his.

He tried to shove thoughts of last night and having Megan in his arms from his mind.