When she’d finally gathered herself, her eyes were still glistening with smiles. She put her hand on his arm. ‘I can’t believe I was actually explaining homeware! I’m so sorry. It must be nerves...’
Her eyes held his through an endless moment, a moment he couldn’t shake himself out of, and then she seemed to notice that her hand was still resting on his arm and she pulled it away quickly, her cheeks colouring.
He looked down, felt his heart thumping. It had been a spontaneous gesture—a friendly touch, nothing more—but then it had turned into something else and he’d felt that cosmic pull, like planets drawing together. Dangerous! Admiring Mia’s eyes and the way she smiled was one thing, but it had to stop there. He’d been sucked into the vortex before and he was never going there again.
She was tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears. ‘Anyway, I’m doing a piece about them—how they started, their design influences, how they see things progressing... I interviewed them yesterday.’ She shrugged a little. ‘But I suppose you know how that goes. You must get mobbed by tech writers all the time.’
She had to be joking. Putting himself into the hands of a journalist was the last thing he’d ever do. ‘No. I don’t do interviews.’ He tried to keep his gaze level. ‘MolTec has a PR department; no one needs to talk to me.’
It was a relief to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Accompanying Theo to Greenwich hadn’t exactly been part of her plan, but when he’d said, ‘I’ll order us a car,’ she hadn’t wanted to object. He had changed his plans for Ash, after all.
And the car had been nice and roomy, and the journey had been fun—at least up to the moment when she’d put her hand on his arm. She hadn’t meant anything by it but there’d been that long moment, something in his eyes that had made her senses swim. She’d felt disorientated, unsure of the signals she was sending out, unsure of the signals she was receiving. She’d been glad when the car had pulled up at the observatory entrance.
She slipped her sunglasses on and turned to watch him. He was busy surveying the London skyline, eyes fastened to the talking telescope. His face had been a picture when he’d spotted it, full of boyish delight.
No one needs to talk to me.
He seemed to be an intensely private person. She’d noticed a momentary glimmer of discomfort in his eyes when she’d told him she was a writer. He was a star in the business world. You had to be pretty fearless to survive in the world of tech. What could he possibly be scared of?
She felt her phone vibrating in her hand, saw Ash’s face on the splash screen. ‘Hey, you!’
‘Dare I ask...?’
‘We’re here, at the observatory.’ She grinned. ‘Theo’s got his eye to the telescope right now.’
‘I owe you big time!’
After Hal? He had to be kidding. ‘You don’t owe me anything. Where are you?’
‘Fifteen minutes away.’ He was happy; she could tell. ‘I’ve managed to book a meeting room inside the planetarium. They’re doing coffee for us, so just go in when you’re ready.’
‘Perfect timing! Theo’s just relinquished the telescope to a sobbing child...’ He was looking around, clearly trying to spot her. She raised a hand and, when he saw, he broke into a smile, started walking towards her with a long, easy stride.
Ash laughed. ‘Is he that tyrannous?’
‘I was joking—he isn’t tyrannous at all.’ A toddler with a spinning helium balloon ploughed into Theo’s legs. She watched him absorbing the impact, dropping to his haunches, laughing, talking to the tot, smiling away, pointing to the bobbing balloon. ‘He’s sharp as a tack, but he has a heart, otherwise he wouldn’t have come.’ She dropped her gaze, noticing a scuff mark on her shoe. ‘When you arrive, I’m going to disappear, okay?’
‘Is everything all right?’
‘Of course it is. It’s just that...’ Theo makes my head spin ‘...you don’t want me hanging around while you make your presentation. I’ll only heckle and make a terrible nuisance of myself.’
He chuckled. ‘We’ll catch up later, then?’
‘Yeah—just make sure you smash it out of the park, okay?’
CHAPTER TWO
Three weeks later...
MIA TOOK HER coffee onto the deck and settled herself into the old wicker chair. Cleuso leapt up and wedged himself into the non-existent space beside her. She tickled his throat, listening to his purr as she gazed across the canal.
It was early—before six, her favourite time of day. The city was peaceful. All the small noises were delightfully random: the lollop of water against the side of the houseboat; the cry of a bird; the distant rattle of a window shutter. Once the day got underway the soundtrack of Amsterdam would change. The streets would fill with the dong, dong, dong of the trams and the rumble of suitcase wheels rolling along pavements. The babble of a hundred different languages would rise into the air, punctuated by the insistent dring-dring of bicycle bells. But in that moment, watching the early sun filtering through the mist on the water, Cleuso’s soft body warming her thigh, she felt as if the city was unfurling just for her, inviting her backstage.
She sipped her coffee, savouring the deep, rich taste of it, and then she smiled, just as she’d smiled every morning for the past three weeks. It was because she couldn’t drink this coffee without thinking of Theo...
He’d been standing in the meeting room at the planetarium, cup and saucer in his hand, surveying the curved walls lined with books. He’d lifted the cup to his lips, sipped and a shadow had crossed his face. She’d known why. The coffee was disappointing. They’d set their cups down at exactly the same time.
She’d caught his eye. ‘It’s not the best, is it?’
‘No.’ He’d held her gaze for a long second then turned away, tipping his head back so he could
