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you, John,’ she said, leaning over to kiss him, moved beyond the ability to express it properly. ‘It’s perfect. Wonderful … I’ll get changed now. I’m really hungry, all of a sudden. What time is it?’
    ‘I don’t know. Around seven, I think.’ He consulted his watch on the bedside cabinet. ‘Seven-thirty, love … Doesn’t time fly by when you’re enjoying yourself?’ He grinned, clearly pleased with the idea that they’d been so lost in passion they’d lost track of time.
    ‘Oh God … Shelley! She’ll be wondering where on earth I am. I’ll have to ring her.’
    Guilt pelted down on her like rain. She’d completely forgotten her friend, her other house-mate, Shelley. Brent might have gone to stay with his parents for a while, but Shelley was still in residence, and if she’d arrived home from a day out at work temping to find Lizzie not there, she’d be wondering what was going on.
    This is what happens when you spend the day shagging your billionaire boyfriend, Lizzie Aitchison!
She’d completely forgotten she had things to do. Commitments. Heck, she’d even forgotten
meals
. No wonder she was ravenously hungry.
    Buckling on his watch, John returned to her and squeezed her shoulder, reassuringly. ‘Look, I’ll just nip downstairsand have a word with Signor Guidetti. I need to speak to him anyway. You have a chat with your friend. Touch base, reassure her you’re OK.’ He glanced at his watch, which looked solid, complex, workmanlike and suspiciously as if it might be made of platinum. ‘I’ll be back up here around eight, and we’ll go and eat then, OK?’
    So decisive. So organised. Just the qualities that had made him so successful. She watched as he buttoned his shirt, tucked it in, and then put on a light jacket. When he’d stowed his phone and his wallet in his pocket, and slipped his feet into loafers, he gave her a quick kiss, then headed for the door.
    ‘See you soon, sweetheart.’
    Then he was gone, and the pretty room seemed ten times as empty as it should have done.
    When Lizzie switched on her phone, she found it awash with voicemails and messages from Shelley.
    ‘Nice of you to call at last,’ barked her friend, answering Lizzie’s call. ‘I’ve been worried sick. No word. Phone off. Nothing. It was only when I called Brent in a panic that I found out. Nice of you two not to mention this secret reunion to me. I’m only one of your best friends, Lizzie. It’s really not fair.’
    ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry … Really.’ She was, knowing how she’d have worried in Shelley’s place. ‘But to have John appear again, out of the blue … well, I just got swept away, you know. I really am sorry, though.’
    Shelley laughed, her voice clear in the earpiece. The other woman never held grudges or got cross for long. ‘OK, love, just as long as you’re all right. You are all right, aren’t you?’
    ‘Yes. Yes, I am, very much … Yes.’ And she was, mostly.
    Almost completely … Except for the little questioning voice that kept telling her that dreams like this were too beautiful to last for long.
    Lizzie, you idiot. Why be such a pessimist? Live for the moment!
    ‘I’m not surprised, you lucky beggar. He’s freaking gorgeous. And loaded too! If he’d come back to sweep me off my feet, I’d forget that
you
even existed!’
    Lizzie smiled. She could still remember the time Shelley had met John, fleetingly, in the wake of Brent’s suicide attempt. The blonde girl had just stared, almost gobsmacked at the sight of him, as if she’d just been introduced to a movie star or to a woman’s fantasy of male perfection made real.
    ‘Well, glad you approve. I
am
lucky, I know that.’
    ‘And he’s lucky to have
you
,’ said Shelley, with emphasis. ‘Now, will you be home tonight? If not, don’t worry. As long as I know where you are … Which is the Waverley, I presume?’
    Now there was a question. John had sleep issues. He’d slept beside her