“So what happened then?” Brendon asked, dismissing Gucci’s behaviour with a flick of his wrist. “Tell me, tell me. Did you just up and run from Frank’s? Oh, those cobbles darling, what shoes were you wearing? You’ll have wrecked them.”

“My Morocco ones, but they’re okay.” She stared at the blank TV screen. She could see her and Brendon’s reflection in the blackness. “We went to my office. He walked me there.” A shudder skittered down her back.

“What? Is he a revolting kisser or something?” Brendon appeared aghast at the thought.

“No, no, he’s a wonderful kisser, so gentle yet firm, you know…”

“Mmm…” Brendon’s expression softened. “Masterful yet tender. Dominant but sensitive.”

“Yes, that’s it but I hadn’t wanted to walk out on my own, that street can be a bit creepy at night. It’s dark and full of echoes and goodness knows what’s happened there over the centuries.”

“What like Jack the Ripper and stuff?”

“Yes.” She paused. “When I went into the bar I had this weird feeling, like I was being watched or something, from the shadows.”

“Well you were, by Hot Guy.” Brendon rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“No, he wasn’t there then, and it wasn’t a nice being-admired feeling, it made the hairs on my arms stand up and gave me goosebumps.” Megan rubbed her forearms, her skin tingling at the memory. “There was someone or something there, I’m sure of it.”

“Bloody hell. You need to chillax, girl. Your imagination is running riot. Come on, this requires yoga.”

“What?”

“You still got that yoga DVD I bought you for Christmas?”

“Yes, it’s on the shelf.” Megan pointed to a collection of disks.

“Great, come on.” He scanned her outfit—sweats and a T-shirt and bare feet. “You’ll do.”

“But I’ve never done yoga.”

“Which is exactly why I bought you this. You need to get in touch with your zen. Connect your yin and yang, feed your spirit and your soul with goodness.”

“And I can do that by contorting myself into a downward dog?”

“Yes, and by breathing, letting out all of that tension. And while we’re doing it”—he flicked on the TV and shoved in The Tranquility Zone: Part One—“you can tell me exactly what happened with Hot Guy in your office and exactly why you ran away after a night of perfectly fine sex.”

“It was more than fine.”

“I can well believe it, lucky thing you.” He winked then dropped to the ground and crossed his legs in front of himself. “Come here.” He patted the floor.

Gucci ran over to the spot he’d indicated and sat, his little pink tongue hanging out and his tail wagging.

“Okay, this side,” Brendon said, tapping the opposite side to Gucci. “That spot’s claimed.”