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escaped from her lips.
    He hadn’t completely lost his touch after all. “I missed you,” he whispered for her benefit only.
    She shifted so her back pressed against his chest, her pelvis molded against his hips.
    Bang. His body’s response was automatic. “You’re killing me.”
    His voice was hoarse and annoyed him, and she giggled. When did he turn back into this horny teenager? His hands circled her waist. He buried his face in the thickness of her hair and breathed in the perfume of her shampoo. The herbal scent she had left on his pillow. Good Lord.
    Ollie appeared by their side. “Get a room.”
    My point exactly. Anyone else and Rupert would have told him to bugger off, but Ollie was different. The dude had lost the girl he loved. Rupert wasn’t enough of a jerk to twist the dagger in Ollie’s heart by showing him what a lucky bastard he was to have Madison … alive.
    “Can I get you a drink, mate?” Rupert tapped Ollie’s shoulders. They were becoming friends. Weird.
    “I’ve already got a lager. Thanks for the offer, though. Get yourselves some food. I’m not hungry. I got through half of Jackson’s fridge earlier.”
    “Bangers and mash?” A cute arch of her eyebrows punctuated her question. “Still your favorite?”
    Rupert smiled. “It hasn’t changed since the first time we came here together.” The night they kissed before parting for Christmas break.
    Madison placed the order and fished for her wallet.
    He grabbed her arm to push the red purse back into her bag. “Please, let me treat you.”
    She shook her head and resolve flickered in her eyes. “No way. You always pick up the check. My turn.”
    He took a step back. All the excitement down there had thankfully died down. “I want to take care of you.”
    She swiveled so that they now faced each other, her head failing to reach his shoulders. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, with her lips set in a stubborn pout. “There’s a difference between taking care of me and caring for me.”
    “I am a native speaker, you know.” He could do stubborn too.
    “Please, let me treat you tonight. Anyway, I don’t want to change my habits and get champagne taste with my beer pocketbook. You always go for the most expensive choice on the menu.”
    He rolled his eyes and searched for a compromise in the low-beamed ceiling of the Turf. “Okay.” Compromising with Madison meant agreeing with her.
    The bartender took the card payment and gave them a piece of paper with their order number. Rupert took hold of her hand and led her to the table where Ollie was nursing a beer, his shoulders hunched so that Rupert expected him to drown in his pint any second.
    Madison sat next to Ollie and extended her hand toward him, but stopped midway. Her gaze searched for Rupert’s, and the uncertainty in her eyes betrayed her unspoken question: Would Ollie recover one day? Rupert hadn’t the faintest idea. A heavy silence settled over their table. Rupert grabbed the jug of water and poured some for Madison. She took a sip, her fingers gripped tightly around the glass.
    Rupert dug deep into his PR skills in an attempt to lift everyone’s spirits. “So when can we meet the infamous Aunt Louise?” he asked Madison.
    A strangled noise erupted from Madison. She raised her hand to her chest and grimaced as she swallowed. “Why?”
    “It’s pretty much self-explanatory. Your aunt is now living in Oxford. She’s your immediate family, so I should meet her.” Being your boyfriend and all.
    “Okay.” Her eyes had lost focus, a sign that she was still processing his request.
    “What about Sunday lunchtime? I’ll book a table at the Randolph. And that will be my treat.” Rupert leaned over the table, bracing himself for a debate.
    “Not for me.” Ollie had addressed the waiter, who now stood next to Rupert. Ollie’s finger pointed back and forth between Rupert and Madison to direct where the plates should be set.
    Madison’s eyes rounded. A