The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection

‘Can you make it stop?’ Mrs Ellis asked.

‘I’m going to give you a support belt, which will help, and you can take paracetamol to help with the pain—that’s perfectly safe for the baby. I’m also going to refer you to a physiotherapist, who can teach you some exercises for your tummy and pelvic floor that won’t hurt the baby but will help ease the pain. I can’t promise you’ll get an appointment with the physio today,’ Madison warned, ‘but if I can do it, I will.’

‘Thank you.’ Mrs Ellis wiped away the tears that had started to spill over. ‘I was so scared I was going to lose the baby.’

‘It’s always the first thing that goes through your mind,’ Madison sympathised, ‘but you’re going to be absolutely fine. Even better news is that there are a few things you can do to help make the pain go away.’

This was his cue, he thought. ‘Why don’t I tell Mrs Ellis while you talk to the physios?’ Theo suggested.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, as if she thought he was trying to take over; but then she nodded, clearly realising that this was going to save them some time. ‘Is that all right with you, Mrs Ellis?’

‘That’s fine. I don’t mind talking to student doctors.’

She thought he was a student? Well, it was an easy mistake to make. Madison had been planning to bring her fourth-year students with her, and no doubt the emergency department had cleared it with Mrs Ellis first. Theo just about managed to suppress his grin, though as Madison left the cubicle he could see amusement all over her face. Well, he could live with it. Telling Mrs Ellis that actually he was Madison’s boss wasn’t going to achieve anything other than make her feel awkward and embarrassed—and his patient’s comfort was much more important than his dignity.

He talked her through the things she could do to help herself, and was just discussing the birth plan with her when Madison swished the curtain aside, carrying a support belt. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Ellis. The physiotherapy department is completely booked up today—but I’ve persuaded them to squeeze you in first thing in the morning, just before their list starts. For now, I’m going to show you how to put this belt on and that’s going to take some of the strain for you.’

‘Thank you so much,’ Mrs Ellis said, looking relieved that she wasn’t going to have to suffer pain for much longer.

‘My pleasure.’ Madison smiled at her. ‘Do you have any questions, or has Mr Petrakis already answered them?’

‘Mr Petrakis said I should put it in my birth plan to make sure I get the most supportive birth position, and it might affect my pain relief. Will I have to have a Caesarean?’

‘I’m not going to rule it in or out at this stage,’ Madison said gently. ‘We’ll see how you go. But I will promise you that we’ll do the best for you and your baby.’

‘Will I get it again if I have more children?’ Mrs Ellis asked.

‘We honestly don’t know,’ Theo replied. ‘You might not get it at all, or it might be not as severe, or it might be worse. It really, really varies. But the best advice we can give you is to leave a good two years between pregnancies—if you do get SPD next time round and your baby’s not walking yet, you’re going to find lifting really hard.’

When Madison had fitted the support belt and checked that Mrs Ellis had transport home, she and Theo walked back up to the ward.

‘So are you happy that I know what I’m doing, or do you want to supervise me with some more cases?’ she asked.

‘I wasn’t checking up on you,’ Theo corrected. ‘I wanted to get a feel for how you worked, and I’m going to be doing the same with all the staff. Mentoring isn’t just for students, you know.’

She looked surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Whatever the stage of your career, you need development or you’re going to feel stuck in a rut and be miserable. The last department I worked in had a policy of job enrichment, and that worked really well. If you don’t already have that here, maybe we can introduce it—and I’ll make sure I liaise with Iris, because I want the midwifery team to be happy with any changes we make and they might have some good suggestions, too.’

She smiled at him. ‘I like the way you think. I’m going to enjoy working with you.’

A feeling, Theo thought, that was very much mutual.

Even though for the rest of the day he was in clinic and she was in Theatre, Theo was aware of Madison all afternoon. To the point that, when their shifts ended and he found himself in the locker room at the same time as her, he said, ‘Come and have a coffee with me.’ Seeing a slightly nervous look on her face, he added, ‘Look, I don’t mean coffee as in a date. I know you’re involved with the guy in the emergency department.’

‘The guy in the…?’ She looked mystified for a second, then smiled. ‘Oh, you mean Ed.’

‘The one who called you down to Mrs Ellis,’ he confirmed.

‘I’m not involved with Ed.’

‘Then you’re free.’ Even though he knew he ought to be sensible about it, he couldn’t help mentally punching the air. And then he caught the expression on her face. ‘To take pity on the new boy, that is,’ he said swiftly. ‘I’ve spent the last five years working in the Midlands, so I don’t know the area at all, and I could do with someone to show me where I can get some good coffee around here.’

She shrugged. ‘The hospital canteen’s OK.’

‘They do espresso?’ he checked.

‘Oh. You mean serious coffee.’ For a moment, he thought she was going to give him the brush-off. Then she smiled. ‘I know the perfect place.’

She led him to a small café not far from the hospital. ‘Giovanni’s—it’s Italian?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘A little family place. Sounds good to me.’

‘Actually, it’s a chain,’ she corrected. ‘But it’s a good one. And I’m very glad there’s a branch just round the corner from the hospital. They do the best coffee in London—not to mention these fantastic organic chocolate brownies.’

She ordered a frothy cappuccino and a brownie, and shook her head when he ordered a double espresso. ‘That much caffeine is seriously bad for you, Theo. How on earth do you sleep?’

‘I’m used to it.’ He smiled. ‘Espresso is the nearest I can get to Greek coffee outside home. Unless you happen to know a decent Greek restaurant around here?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid Greek coffee is a taste I haven’t acquired. It’s all the bits.’ She grimaced. ‘That thick gloopy stuff at the bottom.’

He laughed. ‘You’re not supposed to drink it to the last drop. And the kaimaki—the froth—is gorgeous, if it’s made properly. Like an espresso. But I admit it’s an acquired taste, and I can’t drink it sweet, the way my father does.’ He paused. ‘I enjoyed working with you today. You’re as good a doctor as you are a dancer. Intuitive and empathetic.’

To his pleasure, her eyes widened slightly. So she wasn’t entirely indifferent to him, then? She felt this same weird pull, the chemistry between them?

‘Thank you.’ She inclined her head. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to thank you for the dance at the ball.’

He shrugged. ‘Your friend was rather—how should I say?—intent on seeing you.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Put it down to too much champagne. On his part, not mine.’

‘I hear you organised the ball. And that you made enough for half a scanner.’

‘Only the first half of it.’

‘That’s still a pretty big achievement.’

She shrugged it off. ‘I was part of a committee.’

‘But the ball was your idea?’

‘The music was.’ She grinned. ‘One of these days I’m going to convert these philistines and make them admit that the old songs are the best.’

‘So you don’t like modern music?’

‘I just like something I can sing along to. The kind of stuff that puts a smile on your face when you hear it because it’s so full of verve. And I don’t care if people think it’s old-fashioned: I like it.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘I suppose it’s because it’s the stuff I grew up with. Dad always had it playing in the garage when he was tinkering with a car. Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, that sort of stuff.’

He couldn’t help smiling. ‘So would I be right in guessing that your favourite films are musicals?’

‘Absolutely. You can’t beat a good Gene Kelly film,’ she said, smiling back.

The more Theo talked to Madison, the more he liked her. Felt a connection with her. Wanted to spend time with her. Which made her dangerous. He should stop this right now. Apart from the fact that he was only here for six months, he knew that mixing work and relationships could make life much too complicated. And he wasn’t looking for a relationship in any case.

Yet his mouth seemed to have other ideas.

‘I won something pretty stunning on the tombola—a balloon flight at sunrise. Why don’t you come with me?’

She went very still. ‘Are you asking me on a date?’

This time his head managed to overrule his heart where his mouth was concerned. ‘I’m asking you as a colleague and potential friend,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Then thank you. I’d like that. I’ve never been in a balloon.’

‘Then let’s synchronise our off-duty. When are you free?’

She took her diary from her handbag. ‘Thursday or Friday?’

‘Not this week. How about next week?’ he suggested.

‘Tuesday and Wednesday.’

‘Wednesday it is,’ he said. ‘I’ll book the flight and find out what we need to know.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE night before the balloon trip, Madison couldn’t get to sleep.

She must have been crazy, agreeing to this in the first place. Quite apart from the fact she wasn’t a morning person and she’d arranged to meet Theo at the crack of dawn, Theo Petrakis wasn’t relationship material.

Sure, he ticked all the boxes. He was an excellent doctor, kept the team working beautifully together, and his calm, confident manner on the ward managed to calm even the most nervous parent-to-be. And, as just about every female in the hospital would attest, Theo Petrakis was drop-dead gorgeous.

But he was only here on secondment, covering Doug’s sick leave for six months or so. Then he’d move on, and Madison was perfectly happy here in London.

She’d already made the mistake of rushing into a relationship without a future, and she had no intention of repeating it and letting her world fall apart all over again.

All the same, she couldn’t get Theo out of her head. Those dark eyes with the unexpected green and gold glints—eyes that always seemed to be full of sunshine. That incredibly sexy smile. The dark hair, brushed back neatly from his face, that made her want to slide her fingers through it and make him look all sexily rumpled. His incredibly gorgeous mouth…And even though it had been a week and a half since the ball, she could still remember exactly how his lips had felt against the pulse point in her wrist.

‘Stop being ridiculous and go to sleep,’ she told herself loudly, plumping her pillow and keeping her eyes firmly closed, even though she felt wide awake.

A feeling that didn’t last when her alarm shrilled at an unearthly hour. She had to hit the snooze button three times before she could drag herself out of bed, and she was only just ready when the doorbell rang.

‘Kalimera, Maddie. Good morning.’

Oh, lord. Theo always wore a suit, shirt and tie at work under his white coat. In jeans, a sweater and a black leather jacket, he was absolutely stunning. Touchable.

And she really, really wanted to touch.

She hadn’t felt a pull this strong since Harry. And that in itself was a warning: look where that had got her. She pulled herself together and unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Good morning, Theo.’

‘Ready?’ he asked with a smile.

She nodded. Theo had given her the pre-flight instructions from the balloon company: to wear long sleeves and trousers, preferably in natural fibres; a hat to protect her head from the radiant heat of the burner; and sensible shoes. And although she felt slightly frumpy, wearing a thick fleece over one of the strappy camisole tops she favoured outside work, she understood the logic, and she didn’t want to scrape her arms on the wicker basket.

‘Let’s go, then.’

She locked the front door behind her and walked with him to the tube station. It was still dark outside, and so early that the train was practically empty, apart from a couple of bleary-eyed commuters who looked as if they still wished they were in bed.

‘So are balloon flights always this early in the morning?’ she asked.

‘Apparently the air’s at its most stable in the first two hours after dawn and the last two hours before dusk,’ Theo told her. ‘So most flights are around sunrise or sunset. The ones over London are at sunrise, though we could have gone for a different take-off point and had a later flight.’ He smiled. ‘I take it that you’re an owl rather than a lark, then?’

‘Usually,’ she admitted. ‘Though I’m never late for my shift.’

He laughed. ‘Hey. We’re not at work now.’

‘No.’

‘But since you’ve got my head back in doctor mode, there’s something I forgot to ask you—do you have any medical condition that means you shouldn’t fly?’

‘I’m disgustingly healthy,’ she said.

‘Good.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry, this is a very personal question…but there’s no chance you could be pregnant?’

She felt the colour wash into her face. ‘No.’ She hadn’t actually slept with anyone for two years—and she’d regretted that. Not that she was going to admit either fact to Theo.

‘OK. And I’m sorry I offended you.’

‘No offence taken.’ Though there was one problem. Because of what he’d asked, she was thinking about sex. Specifically, sex with him. Which her common sense told her would be a very bad idea, although her libido was turning a series of cartwheels at the thought.

In accordance with Theo’s instructions, they reached the meeting place near Tower Bridge at a quarter past six for the pre-flight briefing. Madison’s attention was caught by the balloon itself. An enormous wicker basket with six rigid poles going up to hold the burner, and then the most enormous piece of…what? Silk? Nylon? She had no idea. But it was fascinating to watch the balloon flight team putting everything together and inflating the balloon, first with a fan and then the flames shooting into the mouth of the balloon to warm the air and make the balloon envelope rise.

When the balloon was finally upright, the pilot put the instruments and maps on board, and then it was time for the passengers to board. As they drew closer, Madison realised just how big the basket was. How deep. And, not for the first time, she wished she’d inherited the family height gene like her cousin Katrina, rather than being the shortest member of the family.

‘Want a hand in?’ Theo asked.

Part of her wanted to stand on her dignity and say, no, she could manage. But the sensible side of her knew what that would mean: a head-first, embarrassing dive into the balloon—even if she managed to negotiate the footholds. ‘Thank you. That’d be good,’ she said.

‘I apologise in advance for the caveman bit,’ he said, and scooped her up into his arms; she was forced to slide her arms round his neck for balance until he sat her on the edge of the wicker basket. Then she twisted her legs round and slid into the basket.

‘Thanks. I think even high heels wouldn’t have been enough to help me climb in,’ she said brightly, trying to keep her mind off the fact that she’d just had her arms round his neck and his body had been very, very close to hers.

‘Apart from the fact they wouldn’t be sensible footwear.’ Theo looked all the way down her body. Head to toe and then back again to meet her gaze. And the sultry look in his eyes made Madison’s heart beat just that little bit faster.

It was noisy in the balloon, with the burners still heating the air inside the balloon envelope—and then she realised that they were off the ground. Considerably off the ground.

She blinked. ‘Wow. I was expecting it to be—well, bumpier than this,’ she said. ‘Like being on a boat going out to sea.’

‘We’re moving with the wind, so that’s why we can’t feel the currents. And a passenger basket this size is really, really stable. It shouldn’t rock or sway at all.’

‘Either you’ve done this before or you looked it up on the Internet.’

‘Both,’ he admitted. ‘I was in Australia last year and took a trip across the desert at sunrise. The sand was red and there were kangaroos bounding along, and as the sun rose the light turned all the grey saltbush to green. It was incredible.’

‘Sounds it. Mind you, so is this. London in the early spring—look, you can see all the trees starting to turn green over again.’ She looked down, keeping her hands firmly on the edge of the basket. The burners had gone off again, and they were just floating in the air. Everything around them was still and silent. She could hear the sound of traffic below, and gulls squawking over the Thames.

‘I’ve never seen London like this before,’ she said softly. ‘Even going on the London Eye is nothing compared with this. Thank you so much for sharing this with me, Theo.’

The burners sprang into life again, and Theo was forced to bend closer to her so his mouth was close enough to her ear for her to hear his reply. ‘My pleasure. Though, as one of the main organisers of the ball, you’re the best person for me to share it with anyway. You deserve a treat for all that hard work.’

‘Maybe.’ She rested her hands on the rim of the basket and looked out as the pilot pointed out more landmarks. Theo was standing behind her, and it felt natural for him to be looking over her shoulder, his hands resting against the basket on either side of hers. And even more natural for her to lean back slightly against him.

The gap between their hands narrowed imperceptibly, and he moved slightly closer, cradling her body against his. And she wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but then her left hand was covering his, and his right hand was covering hers, and she was aware of every nerve end in her skin.

‘Would you like me to take a picture of you together?’ one of the other passengers asked.

‘Thank you. That would be lovely.’ Theo fished his mobile phone from his pocket and set it to camera mode before handing it to her.

‘Stand a bit closer together—I can’t quite get you both in.’

Theo stood behind Madison and slid his arms round her waist, pulling her back against him.

‘Now, smile.’

Smile, when her knees had just melted and her temperature had risen about ten degrees? But she managed it. Just.

The woman took a photograph, and a second ‘just in case’, then smiled at them. ‘You make a lovely couple.’

‘Thank you,’ Theo said.

For the return of the phone?

Or for the compliment?

Maybe they’d just hit a patch of particularly thin air, because she definitely couldn’t think straight. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled.

Theo stayed close to her for the rest of the balloon trip. And although they’d been warned that in four out of five flights the balloon landed on its side, and they’d braced themselves for the impact, she still wasn’t prepared for the fact that the basket tipped over and she landed on top of Theo.

Full length.

Plastered against him.

His arms automatically came round her. It was the obvious thing to do, to keep them stable—but then again he’d spent most of the balloon ride with his arms round her.

If she lifted her head from his shoulder, she was close enough to kiss him.

And if they hadn’t had the other passengers from the balloon and the pilot with them, she knew she would have done it. Teased that gorgeous, sexy mouth until he was kissing her back and his hands were sliding underneath her fleece and her camisole to encounter bare skin. And she would’ve been just as quick to rip his clothes off.

Oh, lord.

She could feel her face burning, but Theo didn’t make any comment. He merely joined the others in helping to roll up the surprisingly heavy balloon and loading it into the back of the Land Rover that had followed the balloon across London to Alexandra Palace and obtained clearance for them to land.

‘So, did you enjoy your first balloon ride?’ he asked as they walked through the park towards the tube station.

‘It was amazing. I’ve lived in London for twelve years now, but it’s made me see the city with new eyes. There are so many places I haven’t explored.’

He waited a beat. ‘Maybe we could explore them together,’ he suggested.

It shocked her how just much she wanted to agree. ‘Maybe,’ she said.

When they were sitting on the tube, he slanted her a look. ‘Are you doing anything special for the rest of the day?’

‘Does an appointment with an ironing board and a pile of laundry the height of K2 count?’ she asked wryly.

‘That,’ he said, ‘doesn’t sound like fun. How about having lunch with me first?’

‘As long as you let me pay,’ she said. ‘My treat—seeing as you shared your prize with me.’

He smiled. ‘I didn’t mean in a restaurant. I don’t live far from a tube station. Come and have lunch with me.’

Go to his home?

She’d have to be crazy, especially given the way her body had reacted to his on the balloon. ‘It’s a bit early for lunch.’ It was barely eleven.

He shrugged. ‘We were up early. I’d say it’s lunchtime.’ He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her. He couldn’t make it any clearer that he thought she was being a coward.

Well, she wasn’t. ‘Lunch,’ she said, lifting her chin, ‘would be lovely.’

‘Good.’

He unlocked the front door of a tiny Victorian terrace with a pocket-handkerchief-sized front garden. The décor was neutral—which she’d expected from a rented house—though a brief glance into the living room as she passed the open door showed framed photographs clustered on the mantelpiece. So clearly he was trying to make the place home rather than just somewhere to live.

‘Anything I can do to help?’ she asked.

‘You can put the kettle on, if you like.’ His eyes glittered with amusement. ‘Don’t worry—I have English coffee.’ He retrieved a cafetière and a bag of ground coffee from the cupboard above the kettle, and sliced open the seal. ‘If I was going to make proper coffee—the way I drink it—I’d use a briki.’ It must have shown on her face that she didn’t understand, because he said, ‘It’s a Greek coffee-pot—you use it straight on the stove.’

He’d already removed his jacket and hung it on the newel post, but now he stripped off his sweater to reveal a white V-necked T-shirt. One that clung in all the right places.

He’d looked hot in a suit. Gorgeous in that leather jacket and sweater. But now, in jeans and that white T-shirt, he was completely edible.

Madison only just stopped herself touching him.

But no way could she keep her fleece on. She was melting as it was. ‘It is OK if I put my fleece on top of your jacket?’

‘Sure. Now, let’s see.’ He was rummaging in the fridge and stacking a pile of ingredients on the worktops. ‘Anything you don’t eat or you’re allergic to?’

‘I like all food.’ As long as she didn’t have to cook it.

‘Good. So we’ll start with toasted pitta and hummus, then chicken and salad.’ He handed her a bottle of milk. ‘No sugar for me, please.’

It felt oddly domestic, making coffee for them both while he chopped salad. She’d never done this with Harry. Then again, she and Harry had hardly ever been at home together. They’d nearly always eaten out, neither of them being particularly fond of cooking. ‘Anything else I can do to help?’ she asked when she’d filled their mugs, added milk and returned the bottle to the fridge.

‘You can lay the table in the dining room, if you like. The cutlery’s in the top drawer and plates are in the cupboard next to the kettle.’ Meanwhile, he was whisking lemon juice and olive oil and fresh herbs in a bowl as if he were a born chef.

She collected the cutlery and went through to the dining room. There was a small dining table with four chairs, and a computer table with a desk lamp and laptop; next to it was a bookcase, stuffed with textbooks she recognised and other books that were printed in Greek and could have been anything from medicine to poetry. There were more photographs on the mantelpiece and a stunning watercolour of a Mediterranean seascape.

She’d just finished laying the table and was about to take a closer look at the photographs when Theo walked in, carrying a plate with hot pitta bread and a bowl of hummus.

‘Lunch. And I’m really ready for this. Must be the fresh air.’ He gave her another of those knee-buckling smiles.

The hummus was good—to the point where she suspected it probably hadn’t been bought from the deli counter of the local supermarket. And when he brought in the next course—a salad of cucumber, tomatoes, olives, red peppers and salty feta cheese, to go with chicken he’d marinated briefly in that dressing before grilling it—she knew for sure that he’d made it himself.

Theo Petrakis was simply gorgeous. Body, mind and heart—she’d seen him in action in the department enough to know he was kind and clever. And he was a great cook to boot.

If she wasn’t careful, she could really fall for him.

‘That was fabulous,’ she said when they’d finished. ‘You’re an excellent cook.’

‘That wasn’t cooking,’ he said. ‘That was throwing stuff together from the fridge.’ He held her gaze, his dark eyes flecked with green and gold and grey. ‘One evening I’ll cook you a proper Greek meal, if you like.’

Oh, she’d like. ‘Thank you.’

And again her heart felt as if it had done one of those odd little flips. She decided to take refuge in a safer topic: work. ‘So where did you train?’ she asked.

‘With a surname like Petrakis, where do you think?’ he teased.

Greece? ‘Your English is perfect and you barely have an accent.’ Just enough to be exotic. Sexy as hell. ‘And England’s a pretty multicultural place. So I’m not going to presume to guess.’

‘I trained in Greece,’ he said. ‘But I came to England five years ago. I’ve been working in the Midlands.’

‘Job enrichment?’ she guessed.

He shrugged. ‘My grandparents are English. I wanted to spend some time getting to know them.’

‘You didn’t see them much of them when you were growing up?’

‘No.’

Something in his tone warned her that this was a sore spot, something to be left alone.

‘What about you?’ he asked.

‘I trained in London, but my family’s from Suffolk. My cousin Katrina lives a couple of doors down from me, so if we’re on the same shift I see her quite a bit out of work.’

‘Is she a doctor too?’

Madison nodded. ‘She’s in paediatrics. And she’s brilliant.’ She smiled. ‘She’s practically my sister, seeing as we grew up together. Our dads have a family business and our mums are best friends.’ She paused. ‘How about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

‘Three younger sisters and a brother.’ He went over to the mantelpiece and took a photograph down to show her. ‘This is Sophronia—she’s the next one down from me. Melina’s next, then Thalia, and this is Stefanos.’

She could definitely see the family resemblance, though all had darker eyes than Theo. ‘Are any of them doctors?’ she asked.

‘Just me,’ he said. ‘Sophronia was trying to be a stay-at-home mum, but she missed her job too much.’ He smiled. ‘And she’s very, very good at PR. So she’s gone back part time. Melina’s a chef, Thalia’s an interior designer, and Stefanos is in his last year of an economics degree.’ He replaced the photograph on the mantelpiece.

On impulse, she joined him there. ‘And who are they?’ she asked, pointing to another photograph.

‘Sophie’s children—my niece Arianna and my nephew Petros.’

It was a candid shot, clearly taken by someone they knew rather than a posed professional picture, and the smiles on their faces were infectious. ‘They’re gorgeous,’ she said, meaning it.

He was standing close enough for their arms to touch, and a shiver went through her at the feel of his skin against hers. Lord. She couldn’t remember when she’d last been aware of someone in this way. Maybe not since Harry.

He must have felt the shiver, because he turned to face her. ‘They are,’ he said softly. Gently, he touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘So what are we going to do about this, Maddie?’

‘About what?’

It was a complete fib, and she knew he knew it. He meant about them. About the weird pull between them.

‘That night at the ball…I did this.’ He lifted her right hand and skimmed her inner wrist with his mouth. ‘And then I wanted to kiss you here.’ He kissed the soft skin of her inner elbow. ‘And here.’ He kissed the curve of her shoulder, bare except for the spaghetti strap of her top. ‘And…’

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, offering him her throat. His mouth brushed against it, and heat sprang up wherever his lips touched her.

And when his mouth finally connected with hers, her knees went weak. His mouth was soft and sweet and persuasive, and she couldn’t help sliding her hands round his neck, opening her mouth under his to let him deepen the kiss.

Time seemed to stop, and all she was aware of was Theo. The strength of his body against hers, the warmth of his mouth, the seductive flicker of his tongue against hers. She couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone this much before, even Harry.

Harry.

That was where everything had gone wrong last time.

Too much, too fast.

And an almighty mess at the end.

When he broke the kiss, she opened her eyes. ‘Theo. This shouldn’t be happening,’ she whispered.

He took one step away. ‘Signomi. I apologise.’

It would be sensible to accept his apology and stop this right now. Except she couldn’t. The need was too strong. ‘Theo, I…That wasn’t quite what I meant.’

‘No, you were right in the first place, Maddie. We shouldn’t do this.’ He dragged a hand through his hair.