By the time Tilly danced over to him at last, he was in no state to be sensible. He couldn’t remember why resisting her had ever seemed like an option, let alone a necessity, and every stern resolution evaporated as she stopped in front of him. Buoyed up by champagne and the party atmosphere, she was attempting to belly dance but succeeding only in looking faintly ridiculous and yet incredibly sexy at the same time.

‘Come on, Campbell,’ she cried over the throb of the music. ‘Show us what you’re made of!’

And Campbell gave in to the terrible temptation that had been tormenting him all evening and took her by the waist.

‘How can I refuse an invitation like that?’

At the touch of his hands, Tilly abruptly lost her rhythm. She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her and instinctively she put her hands on his arms to balance herself.

And then she was lost.

The feverish gaiety that had swept her through the evening evaporated without warning, sucked away with the music and the laughter and the other guests behind some invisible barrier where everything was muted, leaving the two of them stranded and alone, while the space shrank around them, shortening the air and making her heart boom and thump and thunder in her ears.

It felt as if an insistent hand in the small of her back was pushing her towards Campbell, and it was a relief to give in, to let herself lean against him with a tiny sigh, knowing there was nothing else that she could do, that there was something more powerful than either of them forcing them together, insisting on balancing his hard strength and solidity with her softness and her warmth.

And, once she had given in, it felt so wonderful that Tilly wondered why she had ever believed that she ought to resist.

Afterwards, she could remember nothing about the music they danced to that evening. She knew only that she was holding Campbell at last, that he was holding her, and that they were dancing together.

Her arms slid up to his shoulders, savouring the feel of the powerful muscles beneath his jacket. Her face was almost touching his throat. She could see the pulse beating below his ear, and she breathed in the scent of clean skin and clean shirt and something that was purely Campbell.

Close to him, she felt light and shimmery, lit by the glow spreading through her, a glow that was burning brighter and brighter the tighter he held her. They were barely dancing, barely swaying, but his lips were against her hair, drifting downwards, and Tilly’s mouth curved expectantly. They would reach her cheek soon. They would graze her jaw, would nuzzle the lobe of her ear until she gasped and arched, and then she would turn her head and they would kiss, and that glow would ignite into a flame, a fire…

Adrift in anticipation, Tilly didn’t realise that the music had stopped until Campbell straightened slowly. His hands fell from her, but he held her still with his eyes, eyes that could look deep inside her and could surely see the desire beating there.

‘Shall we go?’ he asked, his voice deep and low, and Tilly nodded.

Still snared in the magic of the dance, she sat wordlessly beside Campbell as he drove the van back to the house. It seemed a long time since they had driven in the other direction, laughing helplessly as they’d followed their police escort.

Campbell was silent, too. They hadn’t spoken at all, as if something stronger than both of them had them in its grip, but perhaps she had it wrong? The headlights from passing cars swept over them, illuminating the austere profile, and Tilly’s stomach hollowed.

It won’t happen again, he had told her after that one devastating kiss, and she knew instinctively that he would keep that promise. If she wanted him, it would be up to her to tell him that. Did she dare?

Careful, her heart reminded her. Remember how much it hurt last time. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The choice was hers.

But with every sense, every cell in her body, clamouring for his touch, it didn’t feel like much of a choice to Tilly. She had gone too far to turn back now. The best she could do was protect herself as best she could.

Just one night…What harm could there be in that? Her heart was on guard, so if she could just keep her emotions in check and make it clear to Campbell that she wasn’t looking for anything more than a night together, surely that wouldn’t be risking too much?

Campbell turned into her drive and parked outside the front door. He cut the lights and turned off the engine, plunging them into darkness and utter silence. For a moment, they both sat completely still, staring straight ahead through the windscreen.

It was up to her, Tilly remembered.

She moistened her lips. ‘Do you remember being on that mountain?’ she asked. She wanted to sound cool, but of course her voice came out thready and wavering.

‘Ben Nuarrh?’ Campbell turned to look at her, his expression impossible to read in the darkness, but she thought she detected an undercurrent of amusement. ‘How could I forget?’

‘Do…you remember how we talked about fantasies?’ Tilly made herself persevere.

‘Yes,’ he said cautiously.

She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got a fantasy now.’

‘Does it involve food?’

That was definitely a smile in his voice. Tilly wasn’t sure whether that was an encouraging sign or not.

‘Not this time.’ She hesitated. ‘It involves you.’

Campbell stilled, and this time when he spoke the laughter had vanished. ‘Tell me.’

And, suddenly, it was easy after all.

‘Well, in my fantasy we’re here, like we are now, in the dark, but there’s no future, no plans, no responsibilities, no being sensible. There’s just the two of us and one night together.’

She swallowed. ‘In my fantasy, you reach out and lay your palm against my cheek,’ she said, and Campbell lifted his arm slowly and caressed her face.

The warmth of his hand made Tilly suck in a breath. ‘You tell me that you’re leaving tomorrow, but you want to spend tonight with me.’

‘I want to spend tonight with you.’ His voice was so low, it seemed to reverberate down her spine. ‘I haven’t been able to think about anything else for weeks now.’

‘Hey, this is my fantasy,’ said Tilly shakily. ‘No improvising.’

‘Sorry.’ Even in the dim light she could see the quiver at the corner of his mouth, and she felt her bones liquefy.

‘Then you tell me you haven’t been able to think about anything else for weeks now.’

The quiver deepened. ‘Then what?’

‘Then…then you kiss me.’

There was a pause, then Campbell let his hand drift down to her throat, where it curved beneath her silky hair so that he could pull her with a breathless lack of speed towards him. Very, very slowly, he bent his head until their mouths met.

‘Like this?’ he murmured.

His lips were gentle at first, tantalising and persuasive, until Tilly leant into him with a tiny sigh as she parted her own and wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

It was so delicious to be able to kiss him, to taste him, to feel his hand at her knee, sliding insistently under her skirt as they kissed and kissed and kissed again-deep, sweet kisses that grew harder and hungrier with every moment.

‘Yes, like that,’ she said unsteadily, tipping back her head as Campbell’s lips trailed down her throat, and his free hand flicked open the buttons on her jacket. ‘Exactly like that.’

She gasped as she felt him smile against her skin, and his fingers tightened possessively on her thigh.

Kissing his way lazily back up to her earlobe, Campbell let his hands continue their delicious exploration. ‘Do I get to tell you my fantasy yet?’ he whispered in her ear and it was Tilly’s turn to smile.

‘What’s yours?’

‘You beg me to take you inside, right now, and make love to you all night.’

‘I’m not sure I like the idea of begging,’ Tilly managed and a laugh shook his big frame.

‘It’s my fantasy now,’ he pointed out. ‘Fair’s fair.’

‘How about if I ask nicely instead?’

‘How nicely?’

She laughed, intoxicated with his touch. ‘Very nicely,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask very, very nicely.’

Pushing him back into his seat, she clambered into his lap so that she was straddling him, and took his face between her palms, covering it with teasing kisses, tickling him with her tongue.

‘Please,’ she whispered, kissing her way down his throat in her turn. ‘Please, Campbell. Please take me to bed and make love to me all night.’

‘That’s quite nice,’ said Campbell in a ragged voice. ‘Ask me again.’

He was pushing aside her jacket, tugging up her silk camisole, and Tilly shuddered and writhed with pleasure as his hands closed on her bare skin.

‘Please,’ she gasped again. ‘You don’t need to pretend anything. It’s not about love. It’s not about forever. It’s just you and me and one night together. Make love to me, please.’

‘Well, since you asked so nicely…’

Somehow they got out of the van, but they couldn’t bear to let go of each other, couldn’t bear to stop kissing. For long, mindless minutes, Campbell pressed her against the driver’s door and Tilly didn’t care that the handle was digging into her hip, cared only that she could hold him and touch him and kiss him back.

At last they made it to the front door. There was a short delay while Tilly fumbled for keys, distracted by Campbell kissing her shoulder and the nape of her neck, as his hot, hungry hands explored beneath her open jacket. Her fingers shook as she inserted the key impatiently and they practically fell through the door, still kissing.

Unheeded, Tilly’s bag fell to the floor, closely followed by the jacket Campbell was peeling from her shoulders. He pushed her back against the door and she arched beneath his touch, gasping his name as she clutched her fingers in his hair, incoherent with desire.

‘What happens in your fantasy now?’ Tilly asked shakily when he raised his head at last, and Campbell took her by the hand and tugged her towards her bedroom.

‘I’ll show you.’

Tilly mumbled and brushed at something on her face before rolling over to bury her face in a pillow.

‘Wake up, Jenkins. It’s breakfast time.’ Campbell’s voice, warm and threaded with laughter, slowly penetrated her sleep and she stirred, opening sleep-clouded eyes to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, tickling her cheek with a finger.

He smiled at her. ‘I thought I’d make your fantasy come true.’

Tilly pulled herself blearily up on to the pillows. She felt boneless with pleasure still, as if she had been drenched in honeyed delight, and the colour rose in her cheeks as the memories of the night before flooded back.

‘I think you’ve already done that,’ she said, and he smiled.

‘This is a different fantasy. You told me all about it on Ben Nuarrh. Don’t you remember? You wanted to wake up with coffee and croissants.’

Brought by a gorgeous lover. Tilly did remember, and the fact that he did, too, made her heart turn over.

‘Look,’ said Campbell as he laid the tray on the bed. ‘The sun’s even shining.’

There was a ridiculous lump in her throat. Tilly swallowed. ‘So it is.’ Leaning forward, she made a big deal of breathing in the smell of coffee. ‘Mmm,’ she murmured appreciatively and unfolded a tea towel to find the promised croissants. They were even warm.

She lifted her eyes to his green ones and wondered how she could ever have thought of them as cold.

‘Where did you find these?’

‘At the shop on the corner. You were dead to the world so I thought it would be worth a trip.’ He nodded down at the tray. ‘I realise the orange juice wasn’t specified in your fantasy. That’s my own innovation.’

Tilly was overwhelmed. Nobody had ever done anything like this for her before.

Last night, he had made her feel beautiful and desirable; this morning, instead of being desperate to leave, as she had half expected, he had gone to all this trouble to make her a special breakfast. He had remembered something she had once said and acted on it to make her feel special.

He made her feel loved.

If you were talking fantasies, this one was hard to beat.

‘Hey, stop that!’ she said, deciding that her only option was to make a joke of it. It was that or cry. ‘It’s not fair to start being thoughtful and perfect now you’re about to go!’

‘You could come with me.’

‘What, to the States?’ she asked, keeping the smile fixed on her face and assuming that he was joking as well.

‘Why not?’

Her smile faded as they looked at each other. He couldn’t mean it.