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his voice. He
hurried forward, hand extended, and pumped Mike’s arm. ‘May we join you?’
    ‘Of course,’ Mike said warmly.
    We took our seats.
    ‘You people with a group?’ he said, looking at no-one in
particular.
    ‘We’re with Leo Tullis,’ I said. ‘He told us there’d be
another member of the Edinburgh party here. That would be you?’
    ‘That’s right,’ he said softly.
    ‘So where have you flown in from?’
    ‘I was in Stockholm all last week. It made sense to stay
over the weekend and fly to Kiruna this morning.’
    I glanced at his clothes, wondering why, north of the Arctic
Circle, he was dressed like a banker.
    He caught me looking and smiled ruefully. ‘These are my work
clothes.’
    I smiled back. ‘I’d gathered that.’ I hesitated. ‘Is it a
Swedish company you work for?’
    ‘Mane Drew.’ There was a hint of pride in his voice.
    ‘The name’s familiar. IT consultancy?’
    ‘They’re one of the bigger Scottish companies. They service
most of the south of Scotland.’
    ‘But you’re working in Stockholm?’
    ‘I helped Mane Drew set up a branch there last spring. The
irony is that, although I work out of the Edinburgh office, I’m hardly ever
there.’
    ‘Your accent’s not Scottish, though,’ said Liz. ‘You’re
Irish, aren’t you?’ She was gazing at Mike, her expression deliberately
softened.
    I rubbed my mouth so he didn’t see the smile. When Liz
dangled her charms, it worked with most men, but I was curious to see how this
one would react.
    He flicked a speck of fluff off his lapel. ‘Well now, I was
transferred to Edinburgh eighteen months ago from our Dublin branch’ – he
looked up at Liz – ‘to inject a little Irish talent into Scotland.’
    ‘Indeed,’ Harry said under his breath, his eyes moving over
Mike’s body.
    ‘I flew here after my morning meetings,’ Mike said, glancing
down at his pinstripe. ‘Some eejit sent my luggage somewhere else, which is why
I’m dressed like this. I need to get some ski gear. It’s cold enough here to
freeze the brass ones.’ He leant back, crossing his legs. ‘This holiday was a
last-minute decision,’ he said, laughing. ‘I’m wondering what I’ve let myself
in for.’
    ‘You had to work this morning?’ Liz said, pouting. ‘Gosh,
poor you. On the first day of your holiday, as well.’
    ‘It wasn’t that bad. Mainly presentations. I slept through
most of them.’ A mischievous look came into his eyes. ‘The last one was given
by some woman, an A-type female. Must have spent ages on her make-up and
clothes. And she’d pinned her hair up, twisted in this funny way, it was. Well,
in the middle of her talk, the pins came loose and it began to unwind. You
should have seen the faces, specially on the women.’
    Harry was hanging on Mike’s every word, his eyes glazed.
    ‘So the hairpins came out, one by one, and her hair fell
over her shoulders. It was a good trick, and no mistake. Certainly got
everyone’s attention. Reminded me of Rita Hayworth in that film where she does
a striptease without taking her clothes off.’
    ‘You thought it was deliberate?’ I said coldly, suddenly
sympathetic towards a woman I’d never met.
    He laughed then, a deep resonant sound. ‘Come on now, all
women do it. I know one who lets out another button before a talk. She never
gets asked any questions, because no-one’s paid any attention to what she’s
said.’
    ‘Sounds like you don’t believe in equality of the sexes,’
Harry said, in a tone of playful admonishment.
    The corners of Mike’s mouth lifted, dimpling his cheeks,
making him look like a boy. ‘Not only do I believe in it, I’m fighting to get
it back.’
    It was impossible not to stare into his eyes. The brown
irises were flecked with amber, the effect both fascinating and disconcerting.
When he smiled, which was often, his eyes glowed with a warm confidence: Mike
Molloy wasn’t a man whose ego needed constant massaging.
    He was watching me,