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asterisked Wimbledon, cooking classes—which she agreed to because he’d
indicated his listeners would love it, not because she actually wanted to know
the difference between flambé and sauté—cocktail-making class, truffle-making,
and a makeover. That last one because she got the sense he really thought it was
important. She tugged her sensible shirt down further over her sensible
trousers.
    ‘I really want to do this one.’ She circled one down near the
bottom, taking a risk. It wasn’t what he’d be expecting at all. And unlike some
of the others this one actually did interest and intrigue her.
    ‘Ice carving?’
    ‘How amazing would that be? Ooh, and this one...’ Another
asterisk.
    ‘Spy school?’
    She lifted excited eyes. ‘Can you imagine?’
    He shook his head. ‘I don’t need to imagine. I’m going to find
out.’
    She sipped her wine.
    ‘What about travel?’ he asked.
    ‘What about it?’
    ‘Not interested in the thought of a holiday?’
    Flying to a whole other country seemed a lot to ask. Besides,
she didn’t have a passport. Just the idea of applying for one got her blood
thrumming.
    ‘Where could I go?’ she breathed.
    His smile was almost indulgent. If it weren’t also so confused.
Had he never met anyone whose gratification went so far beyond delayed it was
non-existent?
    ‘Anywhere you want,’ he said.
    As she holidayed in her apartment as a rule, anything further
afield than Brighton just didn’t occur to her. ‘Where would be good for your
listeners?’
    Zander shrugged. ‘New York? Ibiza?’
    Her breath caught... Ankara? She’d
wanted to go to Turkey since seeing a documentary on its ancient history.
    But no, that seemed too much. Fanciful. She wrote down Ibiza on the bottom of the list. That seemed like the
kind of place EROS listeners would like to hear about. The party capital of
Europe. Fast-pour bars and twenty-four-hour clubs and duelling dance arenas and
swollen feet and ringing ears.
    Oh, yay.
    ‘I might add some things, as we go along. Things that occur to
me.’ Things she’d like to do but didn’t want Zander knowing about. Though of
course they wouldn’t stay secret for long.
    ‘That’s fine. Just hook them up with Casey. I’ll just go where
she sends me.’
    ‘That’s very accommodating of you. Compliance won’t do much for
your reputation as a fearsome boss,’ she said.
    One eye twitched. ‘I’m not fearsome; I just want them to think
that I am.’
    ‘Why?’ That was no way to enjoy your work.
    ‘Because it gets things done. I’m not there to be their
friend.’
    She thought of her own boss. A whacky, brilliant man whom she
absolutely adored. ‘You don’t think people would work just as hard with respect
and admiration as their motivation?’
    He lifted his gaze. ‘I’d like to think they respect me. I just
don’t need them to like me.’
    Or want them to? Something in his demeanour whispered that. But
there wasn’t much else she could say about that without offending him. Besides,
last time she checked he was the most successful person she knew. And she didn’t
know him at all.
    Silence fell. ‘What do you do on your weekends?’ she finally
asked.
    ‘What?’
    ‘You said you had things to do on your weekend. What kinds of
things?’
    He regarded her steadily. ‘Weekend stuff.’
    She lifted both her eyebrows.
    ‘I train.’ He frowned.
    Lord. Blood from a stone! ‘For...?’
    ‘For events.’
    She took a stab. ‘Showjumping? Clay shooting? Oh!’ She drained
the last of her wine. ‘Ice dancing.’
    A reluctant smile crept onto his face. ‘Endurance running. I
compete in marathons.’
    ‘Truly?’
    He chuckled. ‘Yes.’
    ‘What sort of distances?’
    ‘Forty or fifty kilometres. It depends.’
    ‘A weekend ?’ Her half-shriek drew
glances from around the noisy bar.
    His lips twisted. ‘A day.’
    A day! ‘Well, that explains the
body—’
    Horror sucked the words back in, but not fast enough. Oh, God! She quietly