‘It’s late, stay here tonight,’ Stuart said, catching her hand and bringing her forward to stand between his thighs as he sat on the bar stool at the counter.

‘I don’t have any clean clothes, they’re all back at my room,’ she protested but feared it sounded pathetically weak.

‘We can wash these ones. I have a dryer. Besides, you won’t be needing them tonight anyway,’ he said with that intoxicating little half grin he did that made her heart lurch.

She didn’t really have to go to the pub. All she’d be doing there would be sitting alone and staring at the walls inside her room.

‘Stay,’ he urged, nuzzling at her neck until she could barely remember what they’d been talking about.

‘Okay,’ she heard herself agree in between kisses, before finding herself back upstairs in an enormous bed.

Elle opened her eyes slowly, and took a moment to recall her whereabouts. Something heavy lay across her waist and she turned her head to find Stuart asleep next to her. In sleep he looked a lot more relaxed. He always seemed to be taking everything in when he was awake, studying the situation before he spoke and measuring his words; at least he had before they’d come back to his house late yesterday afternoon. After that, she’d seen a different side to this man. He was gentle and considerate and had the uncanny ability to make her feel as though he were in total sync with her every thought and need. There was a playful side to him she would never have imagined on the first occasion they’d briefly met. He’d seemed so aloof that day, but then again, he’d thought she was some lost tourist, which, she supposed, she had been.

While she’d been busy thinking about all this, the man in question had woken up and was now watching her.

‘Morning,’ Stuart said with a lazy deep brogue that sent her insides flipping. She really needed to work on how easy it was for him to set her off; he barely had to do more than speak. Curse that sexy Scottish accent.

‘Morning,’ Elle replied, feeling unfathomably shy.

‘Do you ken you snore?’

‘I do not,’ she scoffed.

‘You do,’ he countered with a slow grin. ‘But it’s a cute wee kind of sound.’

‘I do not snore,’ she told him firmly.

Actually, dear, you do, Gran said, and Elle jumped, scrambling for the sheet.

‘Gran!’ she yelped.

Her startled movement caused Stuart to sit upright in bed and search the room for some kind of danger worthy of her reaction.

‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded, looking confused.

Oh dear God, he was going to think she was crazy.