Bloody hell. A flicker of hope warmed Megan’s stomach. Was that jealousy? Or if not, was James wondering who this bloke was who’d done her such a favour?

If so, maybe all was not lost.

“Brendon, that’s his name, my friend.” She picked up her knife and fork. “He’s unofficially my marketing guru, though I should start paying him really, and he’s also one of my biggest fans.” She paused. “If he wasn’t gay, I’d say he’d be a great catch, but he only has eyes for the men.”

“Oh, I see.” James nodded and reached for his coffee. “Brendon, you said?”

“Yes, do you know him?” Perhaps he’d seen him about.

“I don’t think so.”

“He works here a few days a week. On a freelance basis.”

“I’m mainly in the editing suite at the moment, we’re on the final days of a project.” He huffed and his shoulders shifted, stretching his thin sweater between the balls of his biceps. “I only came out here for this because I needed a break from the team.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I always find this last bit stressful, there’s so much to cram into such a short space of time and it makes me ache inside to chop bits out that really should be seen.” He banged his fist on his chest. “It’s important that people see what is going on under their noses and also for a US audience to see the UK isn’t all pomp and ceremony.”

“It sounds stressful.”

“It is.” He sighed. “Which is why it’s nice to be out of it for ten minutes, at least. And now…now I’ve seen you too, which makes it all the more pleasant a break.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Megan glanced away. “After last night.”

A silence hung in the air. She shouldn’t have brought it up. She should have let sleeping dogs lie and all that.

“Last night,” he repeated.

She looked at him again and studied the deep blue flecks in his eyes. “It was just…”

“Too much too soon, for that I apologise sincerely, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, it takes two to tango.” She paused and smiled shyly at her silly analogy. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Looked so damn irresistible.” He swept his tongue over his bottom lip, leaving a light sheen, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

A tremble went through her. She’d like to explore that sheen, with her own tongue, taste it, add to it, kiss him thoroughly.

“So what do you think?”

“About?” She shifted on her seat and nibbled her bottom lip.

“Tonight, dinner.” He placed down his knife and fork and held his hands in the air, palms facing her. “And I’ll keep my hands to myself, promise.”

He wanted to take her to dinner?