‘Night, Emma. Night …’ Dave gave a polite nod towards Max. The barflies gave curt nods and glances, no doubt still measuring the stranger up. She’d bet there’d be tongues wagging as soon as they got out of the door, wanting to know about the mystery man in the village.

The air was cool, and the pewter-toned moon was full and rather beautiful as they stepped outside. As they rounded the side of the stone pub building, they could see the harbour and the sea. All dark now, bar a dim orange street light, and the glint of moonlight on the choppy waves of the bay.

Max reached for her hand as they began to climb the hill. It was a surprise, and there was still all the stuff about his girlfriend flitting through her mind, and a mountain of fears and doubts within her, but despite all that she felt a little electric pulse run through her. He looked tenderly across at her in the half-light. Was this going to be the start of something? Did she want that?

It was only a few minutes’ walk back to The Chocolate Shop and they were soon outside its bay windows.

‘I use the back door after hours,’ she said, as he paused by the shop front. ‘I need to pop around by the alleyway to the back lane.’

‘Okay, I’ll see you to there, then.’

‘Thanks.’

They were still holding hands. She let go to open the latch of the wooden back gate and they entered the small courtyard area.

She felt in her jacket pocket for her key. Found it. ‘Well, that’s me.’

Stood face to face, on the stone flags of the little courtyard, with a dusting of stars and the pale-silver glow of the moon above them, Max took a step closer. Emma held her breath. There was a second or two as he looked at her with his gentle green eyes, then he tilted his head ever so slightly. Slowly, she mirrored his movement, her heart finally ruling her head.

Then his lips were on hers, warm and welcoming.

It was every bit as good as the last time, all those months ago, and now even more sensual as they closed the gap between them. She could feel his palms firm against her back.

It felt like a proper, old-fashioned, if slightly hot-and-sexy kiss goodnight. She could almost imagine she was a teenager, and her dad would be shouting out of a bedroom window above them any second that that was enough and it was time to come in.

Hmm, it was a toe-curlingly good kiss.

It finished all too soon.

‘Well …’ was all she could muster, as he pulled slowly away.

‘Night, Emma.’

‘Night.’ She couldn’t manage any more words, as her emotions were in a beautiful tumble.

He turned to go, stopped as he reached the gate. ‘I’ll ring you.’