Campbell was silent, too. They hadn’t spoken at all, as if something stronger than both of them had them in its grip, but perhaps she had it wrong? The headlights from passing cars swept over them, illuminating the austere profile, and Tilly’s stomach hollowed.

It won’t happen again, he had told her after that one devastating kiss, and she knew instinctively that he would keep that promise. If she wanted him, it would be up to her to tell him that. Did she dare?

Careful, her heart reminded her. Remember how much it hurt last time. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The choice was hers.

But with every sense, every cell in her body, clamouring for his touch, it didn’t feel like much of a choice to Tilly. She had gone too far to turn back now. The best she could do was protect herself as best she could.

Just one night…What harm could there be in that? Her heart was on guard, so if she could just keep her emotions in check and make it clear to Campbell that she wasn’t looking for anything more than a night together, surely that wouldn’t be risking too much?

Campbell turned into her drive and parked outside the front door. He cut the lights and turned off the engine, plunging them into darkness and utter silence. For a moment, they both sat completely still, staring straight ahead through the windscreen.

It was up to her, Tilly remembered.

She moistened her lips. ‘Do you remember being on that mountain?’ she asked. She wanted to sound cool, but of course her voice came out thready and wavering.

‘Ben Nuarrh?’ Campbell turned to look at her, his expression impossible to read in the darkness, but she thought she detected an undercurrent of amusement. ‘How could I forget?’

‘Do…you remember how we talked about fantasies?’ Tilly made herself persevere.

‘Yes,’ he said cautiously.

She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got a fantasy now.’

‘Does it involve food?’

That was definitely a smile in his voice. Tilly wasn’t sure whether that was an encouraging sign or not.

‘Not this time.’ She hesitated. ‘It involves you.’

Campbell stilled, and this time when he spoke the laughter had vanished. ‘Tell me.’

And, suddenly, it was easy after all.

‘Well, in my fantasy we’re here, like we are now, in the dark, but there’s no future, no plans, no responsibilities, no being sensible. There’s just the two of us and one night together.’

She swallowed. ‘In my fantasy, you reach out and lay your palm against my cheek,’ she said, and Campbell lifted his arm slowly and caressed her face.

The warmth of his hand made Tilly suck in a breath. ‘You tell me that you’re leaving tomorrow, but you want to spend tonight with me.’

‘I want to spend tonight with you.’ His voice was so low, it seemed to reverberate down her spine. ‘I haven’t been able to think about anything else for weeks now.’

‘Hey, this is my fantasy,’ said Tilly shakily. ‘No improvising.’

‘Sorry.’ Even in the dim light she could see the quiver at the corner of his mouth, and she felt her bones liquefy.

‘Then you tell me you haven’t been able to think about anything else for weeks now.’

The quiver deepened. ‘Then what?’

‘Then…then you kiss me.’

There was a pause, then Campbell let his hand drift down to her throat, where it curved beneath her silky hair so that he could pull her with a breathless lack of speed towards him. Very, very slowly, he bent his head until their mouths met.

‘Like this?’ he murmured.

His lips were gentle at first, tantalising and persuasive, until Tilly leant into him with a tiny sigh as she parted her own and wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

It was so delicious to be able to kiss him, to taste him, to feel his hand at her knee, sliding insistently under her skirt as they kissed and kissed and kissed again-deep, sweet kisses that grew harder and hungrier with every moment.

‘Yes, like that,’ she said unsteadily, tipping back her head as Campbell’s lips trailed down her throat, and his free hand flicked open the buttons on her jacket. ‘Exactly like that.’

She gasped as she felt him smile against her skin, and his fingers tightened possessively on her thigh.

Kissing his way lazily back up to her earlobe, Campbell let his hands continue their delicious exploration. ‘Do I get to tell you my fantasy yet?’ he whispered in her ear and it was Tilly’s turn to smile.

‘What’s yours?’

‘You beg me to take you inside, right now, and make love to you all night.’

‘I’m not sure I like the idea of begging,’ Tilly managed and a laugh shook his big frame.

‘It’s my fantasy now,’ he pointed out. ‘Fair’s fair.’

‘How about if I ask nicely instead?’

‘How nicely?’

She laughed, intoxicated with his touch. ‘Very nicely,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask very, very nicely.’

Pushing him back into his seat, she clambered into his lap so that she was straddling him, and took his face between her palms, covering it with teasing kisses, tickling him with her tongue.

‘Please,’ she whispered, kissing her way down his throat in her turn. ‘Please, Campbell. Please take me to bed and make love to me all night.’

‘That’s quite nice,’ said Campbell in a ragged voice. ‘Ask me again.’

He was pushing aside her jacket, tugging up her silk camisole, and Tilly shuddered and writhed with pleasure as his hands closed on her bare skin.

‘Please,’ she gasped again. ‘You don’t need to pretend anything. It’s not about love. It’s not about forever. It’s just you and me and one night together. Make love to me, please.’

‘Well, since you asked so nicely…’

Somehow they got out of the van, but they couldn’t bear to let go of each other, couldn’t bear to stop kissing. For long, mindless minutes, Campbell pressed her against the driver’s door and Tilly didn’t care that the handle was digging into her hip, cared only that she could hold him and touch him and kiss him back.

At last they made it to the front door. There was a short delay while Tilly fumbled for keys, distracted by Campbell kissing her shoulder and the nape of her neck, as his hot, hungry hands explored beneath her open jacket. Her fingers shook as she inserted the key impatiently and they practically fell through the door, still kissing.

Unheeded, Tilly’s bag fell to the floor, closely followed by the jacket Campbell was peeling from her shoulders. He pushed her back against the door and she arched beneath his touch, gasping his name as she clutched her fingers in his hair, incoherent with desire.

‘What happens in your fantasy now?’ Tilly asked shakily when he raised his head at last, and Campbell took her by the hand and tugged her towards her bedroom.

‘I’ll show you.’

Tilly mumbled and brushed at something on her face before rolling over to bury her face in a pillow.

‘Wake up, Jenkins. It’s breakfast time.’ Campbell’s voice, warm and threaded with laughter, slowly penetrated her sleep and she stirred, opening sleep-clouded eyes to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, tickling her cheek with a finger.

He smiled at her. ‘I thought I’d make your fantasy come true.’

Tilly pulled herself blearily up on to the pillows. She felt boneless with pleasure still, as if she had been drenched in honeyed delight, and the colour rose in her cheeks as the memories of the night before flooded back.

‘I think you’ve already done that,’ she said, and he smiled.

‘This is a different fantasy. You told me all about it on Ben Nuarrh. Don’t you remember? You wanted to wake up with coffee and croissants.’

Brought by a gorgeous lover. Tilly did remember, and the fact that he did, too, made her heart turn over.

‘Look,’ said Campbell as he laid the tray on the bed. ‘The sun’s even shining.’

There was a ridiculous lump in her throat. Tilly swallowed. ‘So it is.’ Leaning forward, she made a big deal of breathing in the smell of coffee. ‘Mmm,’ she murmured appreciatively and unfolded a tea towel to find the promised croissants. They were even warm.

She lifted her eyes to his green ones and wondered how she could ever have thought of them as cold.

‘Where did you find these?’

‘At the shop on the corner. You were dead to the world so I thought it would be worth a trip.’ He nodded down at the tray. ‘I realise the orange juice wasn’t specified in your fantasy. That’s my own innovation.’

Tilly was overwhelmed. Nobody had ever done anything like this for her before.

Last night, he had made her feel beautiful and desirable; this morning, instead of being desperate to leave, as she had half expected, he had gone to all this trouble to make her a special breakfast. He had remembered something she had once said and acted on it to make her feel special.

He made her feel loved.

If you were talking fantasies, this one was hard to beat.

‘Hey, stop that!’ she said, deciding that her only option was to make a joke of it. It was that or cry. ‘It’s not fair to start being thoughtful and perfect now you’re about to go!’

‘You could come with me.’

‘What, to the States?’ she asked, keeping the smile fixed on her face and assuming that he was joking as well.

‘Why not?’

Her smile faded as they looked at each other. He couldn’t mean it.

Tilly didn’t want to think that making love had been a mistake, but she was afraid that it probably had been. Now she was going to have to live with the memory of the heart-stopping rapture, of the consuming pleasure and the heady delight of touching and being touched, of the fierceness of the passion they had discovered together. Night after night, she would have to lie in this bed and remember and know that she would never feel that again. She would never hold him again, never kiss him again.