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They were warm and insistent. He tasted of salt and sweetness and memories buried so deep within her she’d thought they were lost. His hands rested lightly at her waist and she knew that she wasn’t going to pull back.

Her phone rang.

She ignored it and kissed him back. He held her, his fingers at the nape of her neck, urging her deeper into the kiss.

The phone kept ringing, on and on, demanding she answer it. Why hadn’t her answerphone kicked in? Was it a sign?

Coming to her senses, she stepped back shakily, as if she’d woken too quickly from a dream. ‘I h-have to get this.’

With a groan, he raked his hands through his hair and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.

Zennor’s fingers were not steady as she picked up her phone.

She didn’t recognise the number. What had she been thinking? Who knew what might have – would probably have – happened if she hadn’t stopped. If she’d given way to her hormones, which were going off like the New Year fireworks in St Ives. As she tried to pull herself together, her phone stopped ringing.

‘I – um – must call it back. It might be a client. Something urgent.’

‘It won’t be,’ Matt murmured.

She turned her back on him, unwilling to see the disappointment etched on his features and trying to control the desire that still surged through her own body.

The number rang out and a woman answered. ‘Penzance Urgent Treatment Centre.’

Zennor almost dropped the phone. ‘Oh. I have a missed call from you. I’m Zennor Smith.’

‘Ah. Oh, yes. I’m Magda, one of the senior nurses. Your friend, Sybil Brandon, is here. She’s had a fall and she’s in our urgent care centre. Would you mind coming over as soon as you can?’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Having crashed back down to earth with a thud, Zennor pressed the phone against her ear. ‘Is she OK?’

‘She’s conscious and talking. She bumped her head so we’re waiting for the results of a scan.’

Adrenaline pumped through her veins. ‘Poor Sybil. I’ll come over straightaway.’

Matt’s hand was over his mouth. ‘What’s happened to Sybil?’ he demanded the moment she ended the call.

‘She’s in Penzance Hospital. Apparently, she had a fall. I don’t know any more details but I think she must have been working. I need to go over there now.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘There’s no need. I can handle it.’

‘I know you can but she’s my godmother and I want to come. I’ll drive you.’

Half an hour later, Zennor was glad of his offer. He parked the car while she hurried into the treatment centre, eventually finding Sybil propped up on a trolley in a cubicle with a bandage and pad on her head. She was ashen, her mascara smeared under her eyes – not that Zennor would have dared mention it. However, her face lit up in a smile the moment she spotted Zennor.

‘Oh, Sybil. What have you done?’ Zennor took her hand and sat down. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine. Well, I’m fine now. I’ve had a scan and they say there’s no damage, just a bump. And they did an ECG and I don’t seem to have any heart issues.’

‘That all sounds like good news,’ Zennor said, taking a chair beside the trolley. ‘Can you remember much about fainting?’

‘Everything.’ She grimaced. ‘I was doing a storytelling session and it was so bloody stuffy in the community centre. I’d been up late rehearsing a new tale last night and I’d slept in and rushed over with no time for breakfast and – well, I’d just managed to get off stage and I felt – weird. I hit the edge of a chair.’

‘How scary and horrible for you. I’m so sorry.’

Matt arrived, breathing a little heavily. ‘Sybil. What have you been up to?’