She nodded, nervous now, wishing she hadn’t just blurted it out like that. Wishing she’d rehearsed a proper speech to explain why she wanted to stay. She had a memory of a heated debate in an English class as to whether Elizabeth Bennett’s feelings had undergone a significant change when she’d seen Darcy’s home, Pemberley. When she’d seen what her life could be.

But Hannah had had to say it, not because the house was so beautiful but because she couldn’t imagine a life without him. Just the thought of him being here and her going back home was like a punch to the stomach.

‘I’ve been a offered a job.’

‘Let me guess, Adrienne offered you a job.’

‘Well, yes she did but—’

‘You never mentioned it before. Or should I guess?’ he asked with a lazy insolent drawl. ‘You’re to be another of Adrienne’s disciples, are you?’ His mouth twisted. ‘You’ve seen the light and you’re going to stay. Why am I not surprised?’

‘That’s not it at all.’ She’d certainly come around to Adrienne’s way of thinking about food and sustainability, but at the same time, she wasn’t worshipping at her feet.

‘So you want to stay.’

‘Yes I do but—’

‘And she’s going to make a cook of you. Where’ve I heard that before? You do realise she does this all the time. Finds a new protégée. Except…’ His mouth twisted again. ‘You’re not a cook. You don’t have that drive or passion. You shouldn’t listen to Mam. You’ll never be a cook.’

If he hadn’t added that charming comment, she might have stayed cool, calm, and communicative, but his obvious derision and instant assumption pissed her off mightily. Hannah didn’t have much of a temper, but some things, like injustice and unfairness, were immediate triggers and when she blew, she blew. She could feel her face turning red, reflecting the furious boil of her blood below the surface and her fingers developed their own reflexive desire to slap his smug, know-it-all face. He didn’t know it all. He clearly didn’t know her at all. Didn’t know that she wasn’t the sort to take short cuts or hitch her wagon to anyone else for an easy ride. All her life she’d worked hard towards her goals. Instead of correcting him, she decided with grim fury that he could think what the hell he liked. He could go screw himself.

‘You big, stupid, arrogant, up-yourself eejit!’

As her face burned with fury, she realised the words seemed to have burst aloud and then felt pleased, especially at the slapped-with-a-wet-fish expression on Conor’s face.

‘What did you call me?’