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He nods, causing my heart rate to increase by a million thumps per second. ‘Why not? It’s a win-win for me. I get to see more of you… in a professional capacity and the ICF Board get the proof they need that I’m being proactive.’ His accent is getting more dreamy by the syllable.

Could it be possible, beneficial even, to have a client-coach relationship with a man this attractive? Despite the distraction of sexual tension? Despite the fact that I barely have a clue what I’m doing?

I take a beat to reflect on it while I gaze into the depths of his incredibly dark eyes.

It could. We both simply need to remain professional.

As if reading my mind, he leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips.

I very much admire his unprofessionalism.

‘Give me your number,’ he demands, masterfully holding out his phone to me. I take it and quickly put my number in his contacts.

‘Do not,’ he warns, ‘do anything crazy until tomorrow.’

My eyes balloon with indignation.

‘See?’ he says. ‘I don’t want to miss any rolling around on the floor or tapping of sacral chakras or whatever nonsense it is. It’s all… captivating.’

‘That nonsense,’ I say in as haughty a fashion as I can muster under the circumstances, ‘is an ancient form of emotional healing. That I can personally vouch for.’

I am met with what could only be described as an intensely smouldering and sexual look.

‘Go on,’ he encourages huskily.

Do not engage. Repeat, do not fucking engage. He is clearly taking the piss.

My voice comes out all raspy and two octaves lower than normal. ‘Tapping the meridian points on one’s body is a centuries-old mechanism for helping one to cope with anything from’ – I stop to lick my lips – ‘an overly dismissive mother to, I don’t know, toxic issues in the workplace.’

Oh Jesus.

Thankfully, he interrupts me before I can talk any further shite at him. Taking hold of my arms, he says, ‘I find you utterly’ – his eyes search mine – ‘bonkers.’

The atmosphere in my office suddenly becomes heavy with lust. I blink slowly, my breath coming in short bursts. He grabs me roughly to him and gives me a hungry look before kissing the life out of me. A surge of electricity powers through me and I am consumed. He must feel it too; his breathing is all ragged and his hands start to wander over my body, pulling me in close. The silk kimono falls open at the front to reveal plump breasts tumbling from my balcony bra. His eyes light up.

‘Magnificent,’ he says, cupping one of them then the other as our lips melt passionately together. My fingers tangle in his soft hair as I pull him towards me. I have never wanted anyone this much. The chemistry between us is electrifying.

After a while, we break off, both of us panting and wild-eyed.

‘See you soon,’ Oliver says, flying out of my office, leaving me gobsmacked.

I stare after him. Not only have we both broken every rule in the Code of Ethics about not having any romantic intimacy, but more astonishingly, I haven’t given Ryan Reynolds a thought in over an hour. Not one thought.

24

I’m still rooted to the spot in a daze as Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen walks in. Ava is hovering behind. I wrap the kimono back around my top half and pat my hair into shape as though I’ve simply been on a vigorous dusting spree.

‘Okay, let’s sort out this coach trip disaster,’ I sigh rather dreamily, because I’m still reeling from that kiss.

What lips Oliver has. Powerful, I’d call them. No, soft, but then again, hard. No, bouncy. No, firm and springy. No, that’s how you’d describe a good mattress. Good Lord… I must concentrate. Being present in the moment is, in fact, key to good life coaching. Being able to give your full and absolute attention to the person in front of you is essential. And to really listen to them. Like Oliver really listens to me, and how he finds me utterly captivating. Captivating and bonkers. No one has ever, ever called me captivating before.

‘How many people have you booked onto it so far?’ I ask, dragging myself back into the present. I really must try to stay here, in the here and now.

I hear Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen mumble something. Lust has affected my hearing. I wonder if Oliver has a strong surname to go with his strong beefy arms and his overall general strong beefiness. I simply must find out.

‘How many?’ I say, sighing happily. I’m so giddy. Giddy is the only way I can describe it. Light and fluffy and high on endorphins. Oliver’s kisses are… commanding. Yes, commanding. No, they’re sweet. No, promising. That’s what they are. Full of promise. A shoot of lust pings through my body and dances around in my lady parts.

Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen considers me for a moment and pushes back her thick dark hair. It could do with a brush. Oliver has perfect hair, as one could probably imagine.