‘This is one argument you won’t win,’ said Mackenzie, as he picked up a small shard of the ice. It was golden and clear like honey. Now his mouth went dry.

‘Give it here, Mack!’ she snapped, trying to take the wineglass off him.

He pulled away and dropped the shard into the glass. If they tested him for his bail in the next few days, he’d fail. But there was no other way. He was struggling to even swallow. He crouched down over a Bunsen burner and, holding the stem and turning the bowl over the flame, put the rim to his mouth.

‘Mack . . .’ she whispered. ‘Be careful.’

He took a deep breath of the vapour, and . . .

Nothing happened.

Some ice hits you slow and lasts longer, he remembered, and some hits straight away and burns off fast.

But then the hit came hard, and it had weight.

It came in his hearing first – a ringing like tinnitus that grew as loud as cicadas. Yet he could hear perfectly every breath he took. The glub of water on the hull, the tap of the willow on the deck.

The world shifted from fuzzy edges to minute detail. He could’ve sworn his muscles swelled, his skin rearranging itself until it felt, finally, like it belonged to him again. Even the pain in his leg was gone.

Heat rushed into his face, his cheeks, his chest, his toes. Warm little waves lapped at his skin, and then an angry ocean of passion, almost knocking him off his feet. He was excited – so excited, everything was exciting. He couldn’t remember feeling so good ever before.

They say there’s nothing like the first hit, and after so long . . .

‘Mack?’ said Shelby uncertainly.

He laughed, sweeping her up in a hug.

‘You’re a genius,’ he said hotly, then realised he was far too close to her. He wanted to kiss her, but he was dimly aware that wouldn’t be a good idea.

She backed away from him. ‘Is it . . . are you okay?’ she said.

‘This,’ he announced, ‘is the best ice I’ve ever had.’

He wasn’t sure if that was true – he hadn’t had a hit in so long, and the first was always the best, but . . . this one hit him everywhere. In his eyes, in his throat, in his belly, in his groin . . .

He put his hands down in front of himself to clumsily hide his growing arousal.

Shelby saw what was happening and a strange expression rolled over her face. That look on her face went some way to reminding him why he was here.