‘Well, I guess undercover work probably isn’t that conducive to long-term relationships anyhow.’

She nodded resignedly. He was right about that. Working undercover could play havoc with relationships, as you often had to spend intense periods of activity away from a partner. Although, seeing as Bailey was currently single, that was less of an issue.

Dale eyed her closely. ‘And I guess it must affect your ability to trust people.’

‘What do you mean?’ she said.

‘Well, you always have to have your guard up. How do you know when to let it down?’

‘When I meet the right person, I know when to let it down.’

They found themselves looking into each other’s eyes. Bailey was suddenly acutely aware of his physical closeness, his arm draped along the back of the sofa behind her. She was glad she’d kept the lighting low to soften the impact of her scars. He edged a little closer still.

‘Mind you,’ she said, ‘I’m a bit out of practice with all that stuff.’

He took a moment to scrutinise her. ‘You know, what I like about you, Bailey, is that you’re not a prima donna. Sometimes with these top-level undercovers, it goes to their heads. But not you. There’s something special about you.’

She felt herself blush. Had he actually meant what he said about having a soft spot for her? Did he really genuinely fancy her? Even now with her scars? But then, sitting this close to her, he didn’t seem bothered by her disfigurement.

His fingers brushed her shoulder lightly, his touch sending an electric tingle through her. Her breathing quickened. She wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy.

She swallowed hard and sat up briskly.

‘Any good at cryptic crosswords?’ she asked.

Dale frowned, looking a little disconcerted. ‘Uh… I can’t say I ever really do them.’

She picked up a book lying on the nautical-themed coffee table.

‘My dad bought me this for Christmas,’ she said, leafing through it. ‘Here. Look. I’m stuck on twelve across.’

Dale sat up and moved right next to her to look at the clue. She could smell the intoxicating scent of his musk. It made her heart beat that little bit faster.

‘“Grandparents come from Lancaster”,’ he murmured, reading the clue.

‘I can’t think for the life of me what it is,’ she said, trying to quell the stirrings inside her.

Dale frowned. ‘That’s easy. The answer’s “ancestral”. It’s an anagram of “Lancaster”.’

She slapped her forehead. ‘Of course! The “grandparents” part means “ancestral” and the “come from” part tells you it’s an anagram.’

She gazed at him with admiration. Not only was he good-looking, he was smart as well.

He shrugged modestly. ‘I’ve always been an anagram man.’

They were only centimetres apart now, leaning over the book on her lap. He turned his head and smiled at her.

‘I like your eyes,’ he said.

She swallowed nervously. Her eyes were just grey and dull in her opinion. The colour of cold ashes. What could he possibly like about them?