‘It can be. I just have to find ways to relax.’ He stroked my fingers and my flesh crawled as though insects were running beneath my skin. I smiled sweetly though, this was going in the right direction.

‘How do you do that?’ I purred. Although I already knew the answer. He went out, stalked and attacked women for his own perverse pleasure.

‘I may show you later.’ He looked like he wanted to have me for dinner. I bit my lip.

‘You haven’t got a dungeon hidden away in that apartment of yours?’ I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

‘AKA Christian Grey, you mean?’ He raised one eyebrow and for a moment he looked charming.

‘That’s the one.’

He chuckled but didn’t answer. The waitress returned, but I hadn’t even looked at the menu. I opened it to make my choice, but Ian got there first.

‘We’ll have the steak please, both medium rare with peppercorn sauce on the side.’ He snapped his menu shut and I handed mine over to the waitress. We exchanged a quick look. I could tell we were thinking the same thing. Why was I having dinner with such a pompous prick? No woman likes having her choice made for her. It’s not romantic; it’s controlling, but she didn’t know I was just playing along. For now anyway.

‘What would you like with it, chips, jacket potato or salad? Any other sides?’

‘Chips I think, Eve?’ Now he wanted my opinion?

‘Yes, chips please.’

The waitress nodded and left. What was it with men and steak anyway? Why come to an Italian restaurant and order steak? I wanted the spaghetti carbonara, the thought of creamy sauce and pancetta with a dough ball starter made my mouth water. I should have intervened; it could be my last meal. Counting to ten in my head, and then on to fifteen, I took a sip of the wine Ian had deemed ready to pour. Surprised at how smooth it was, I had not tasted red wine like this. It must be expensive.

‘Good, isn’t it,’ he said with a wink.

‘It is.’ I would have to pace myself, but the more pliable Ian was the better.

‘Have you heard about the attacks?’ he said. My glass was half raised to my mouth, suspended in mid-air. Ian took my pause as interest. ‘I was reading in the paper. Women, walking on their own, getting jumped in broad daylight.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my glass wobble in my hand. I took a large mouthful and lowered it carefully to the table. Was he fucking with me?

‘Robbed?’ I asked, playing the game.

‘Assaulted. Sexually assaulted.’ The look on his face and the pitying shake of his head made my stomach burn.

I sat on my hands to stop myself throwing the wine at him. Although I couldn’t control my mouth.