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‘I don’t want to invade your space …’

‘You won’t be, and I’m guessing you must have something you want to talk to me about in private?’

‘I wanted to give you this but mostly I came to see if you’re OK. I’d no idea about what you went through. Ned gets carried away sometimes.’

‘Well, yes.’

Direct as ever, she thought, finding it refreshing and disconcerting. Her stomach tightened a little with nerves. Suddenly, her gift felt wildly inappropriate for this serious man, especially in the circumstances of her almost sleeping with him and her ex being in the building.

Seeing her hesitate, he smiled with what she thought was encouraging warmth.

The space had a kitchenette at one end of the room and a door to what she presumed was an en-suite shower. She tried not to imagine the tall and rangy Arlo fitting into it. The ceilings were lower than the grand rooms on the two floors below and the well-worn furnishings looked as if they were cast-offs no longer fit for the main house.

‘This is … cosy.’

He laughed softly. ‘You could call it that. These were the attics for the servants.’

Now it was Katie’s turn to laugh. ‘And you must have felt like one over the past few days.’

‘I might have felt like many things but not a servant. Would you like to sit down? Pongo! Move, please.’

Pongo lifted his muzzle and huffed but shuffled off the sofa.

‘Poor Pongo,’ Katie said, placing her gift on the fur-covered sofa cushion and stroking him as he sat at her feet.

Arlo took a chair opposite. ‘So, how can I help?’

‘You can’t. I mean, I always appreciate your help but I came up here to give you something, actually.’

His lips parted and his gaze wandered to the parcel at her side. ‘You did?’

‘Yes. It was really kind of you to cook for us. You made a much better job than any of us would, apart from Auntie Wanda, of course. You two made a great team.’

‘I didn’t need to do anything much with your aunt in charge. She’s a brilliant cook, and I’ll let you into a secret: I never mind being in the kitchen at parties.’ Although he said it deadpan, there was a gleam in his eye that sent a thrill through Katie. She had to resist it.

‘Yes, well, I enjoyed it too, the dinner that is, and actually I have a Christmas present for you.’

He held up his hands and shook his head. ‘Ah, no. That really isn’t necessary. I don’t expect anything. You’re my guests and it’s a pleasure to help.’

‘That’s nice of you to say, although we both know it’s probably not completely true, but anyway, I’m here now and I need to give you this.’ She picked up the paper bag and held it out. ‘Sorry, it’s not wrapped up.’

‘I – couldn’t accept it.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, it didn’t cost me anything.’ Realising how bad that sounded, she added hastily, ‘Not in monetary terms. It cost in other ways …’ She passed the paper bag over to him and he took it, a frown bisecting his forehead.

‘Well, thanks,’ Arlo murmured.

‘You can open it now if you like.’

He clutched the bag, squeezing the top together as if he were afraid of what was inside. ‘Um. OK. I – don’t mean to seem ungrateful.’ He sighed and smiled at her. ‘Although I’m doing a bloody good job, aren’t I?’

‘Erm …’ said Katie with a wince.

‘OK. I’ll shut up and just open it.’

She gave him an encouraging smile.

Arlo opened the bag wider and extracted the copy of Katie’s last book – she’d picked it up in Keswick. His eyes widened as he stared at the cover featuring a graphic of a man and a woman on a beach. Katie held her breath. The cover was quite pink.