‘Excuse me, Miss Durham?’ he said. ‘I’m very sorry but there has been some mistake with the seating plan this evening.’

‘What?’ Steph looked at the man in bewilderment.

The maître d’ placed his hand on the back of her chair and indicated for her to leave her seat. ‘If you could come with me, please.’ He looked at the other guests. ‘Would you please excuse Miss Durham?’

Steph looked apologetically at the other table guests and rose from her seat before following the maître d’ through the tables. To her surprise, he led her straight to Harry’s table and sat her next to him.

‘Thank you, Antonio,’ said Harry. He smiled at Steph, and this time his expression seemed a little warmer. ‘Sorry about that. They were supposed to change the seating plan earlier. Let me get you some wine.’

‘It’s a very nice surprise,’ replied Steph.

Harry leaned in towards her. ‘You look stunning. I love the LBD.’

‘Is the right response,’ said Steph. Her stomach gave another jump but this time for the opposite reason. However, she warned herself not to get carried away. ‘How was your afternoon?’ she asked, changing the subject to safer ground.

‘Don’t ask,’ said Harry. ‘A bit crap, if I’m honest.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ She’d put her foot in it now and the tension from his body was undeniable.

‘How did the skiing go?’

‘Don’t ask,’ she said, echoing his earlier reply.

‘That good, huh?’

‘Nothing to do with facilities,’ she added quickly. ‘More a case of my mind being more capable than my body.’

Harry gave an indistinguishable grunt but said nothing more. They sat in silence for a moment and Steph was beginning to wish he’d never brought her over. It was obvious he didn’t really want her there. Or did he? She felt confused. So many mixed messages were coming from him. Sod it, she’d just have to ask.

‘Look, Harry, please don’t feel you’re under any obligation with me just because of what happened this morning,’ she said in hushed tones. ‘I’m not going to go to pieces or have a hissy fit or anything like that. I’m a grown woman and I can take it. In fact, I’d sooner you were honest with me, rather than feel sorry for me or awkward for yourself.’

Concern entered his eyes. ‘What? God, no. Don’t think that,’ he said hastily in a low but insistent voice. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just a bit preoccupied with work. I didn’t mean to seem off with you. That’s the last thing I want to do.’ He held her gaze with his own.

‘Anything I can help you with?’ asked Steph, aware of the relief at his words and yet scolding herself at the same time for being such a pushover.