She would have to say goodbye and it would hurt.

She was a fool, in fact, but Tilly couldn’t regret it. Just one night, they had agreed, and what a night it had been.

And now Campbell was suggesting-seriously?-that she wouldn’t need to say goodbye after all.

There was no point in denying that she was tempted, but deep down Tilly knew this was just another fantasy. Maybe fantasies could come true for a night, even for a morning, but how could they endure day after day, in the harsh realities of life?

She couldn’t go to the States with Campbell. Her business was here, her friends were here. And what would he do with her over there? He was a high-powered businessman, she was a homely cake-maker. Their lives would barely coincide. Tilly had seen what different aspirations had done to her parents’ marriage.

No, she had ignored her sensible side long enough. This was no time to believe in fantasies. It could never work. Campbell was driven by the need to win. His priorities were different, his life was different.

And he had an ex-wife to get out of his system.

Tilly had forgotten Lisa for a while, but now she remembered the way Campbell had talked about her. He might not love Lisa any more, but there was definitely some unresolved business there, and Tilly had no intention of being a distraction until he found out what he really wanted. She had been that for Olivier, and she wasn’t doing it again.

‘I don’t think that would work,’ she told Campbell, choosing her words carefully.

‘Because…?’

‘Because we’re too different. Last night was wonderful, but perhaps it was wonderful because it was just one night,’ she tried to explain. ‘We both got what we needed without having to think about the consequences.’

Campbell eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Did we? What did you get?’

‘I got Olivier out of my system,’ she told him, lifting her chin slightly. It was the truth, but not the whole truth, as they said. ‘My friends have had this theory that I’d never get over him properly until I had a fling with someone to restore my confidence. And I’ve done that now,’ she finished.

There was a tiny pause. ‘I’m glad I was able to help,’ said Campbell with a touch of acid.

‘You know what I mean,’ said Tilly. ‘I mean, come on, Campbell, you know I’m right. You’re leaving the country, we’ve got completely different lives. How could it ever be more than a night?’

All right, maybe she was right, thought Campbell. The trouble was that it didn’t feel right. It felt all wrong.

But what could he do? He could hardly force her to go with him. He wasn’t sure where the idea that she could go to the States with him had come from. The truth was that he had been almost as surprised by his suggestion as Tilly had been. The words seemed to have come from nowhere, and yet once they were out, they made perfect sense and Campbell had been taken aback by how badly he’d wanted Tilly to agree, how disappointed he had been when she’d said no.

Of course she was right. There was no way it could work. It was madness to even think about it. He would leave here and go to his new life in the States, and he would be grateful then that she had saved them both a lot of awkwardness by rejecting his impulsive offer.

‘OK,’ he admitted, ‘you’re right. It was just a night, but it was a great one.’

Smiling, Tilly relaxed back against the pillows. ‘Yes, it was,’ she said softly, ‘and now you’ve brought breakfast, it’s a wonderful morning.’

‘Then let’s make the most of it,’ said Campbell, leaning across the tray to kiss her. ‘It’s not over yet.’

That had been a mistake, too, he realised much later as he watched the taxi draw up outside the house.

Had they really thought making love again would make it easier to say goodbye? Breakfast had been ruined, of course, but neither of them had cared. They had made fresh coffee eventually and reheated the croissants and ate them together, neither of them wanting to think about the minutes ticking away.

Now the moment they had both been dreading all morning had arrived.

Tilly came outside to the taxi with him. She watched as he threw his bag into the back and then turned to her.

‘Well, I guess this is it,’ he said.

‘Yes.’ Her throat tightened painfully. ‘But I’ll see you at the ceremony when they announce the winners. You are coming back for that, aren’t you?’

‘Of course,’ he said, thinking that was not for another three months.

Once he would have been impatient to find out whether he had won. Now all he could think was that it meant three months without Tilly.

And, after that, the rest of his life without her.

It would be fine, he told himself. Once he was in New York, there would be so much to do, he wouldn’t have time to miss her. He would be making a new life, being even more successful than before. He would be relieved that Tilly had been sensible.

He wouldn’t feel the way he did now.

He looked for the last time into Tilly’s dark, beautiful blue eyes, knowing that he could never tell her how he felt. So he reached for her instead, and she melted into him and they kissed, a bittersweet kiss that went on and on because neither could bear to let the other go.

‘I’m glad Keith pushed me into taking part in this stupid programme,’ Campbell confessed against her hair at last. ‘I’m glad Greg broke his leg.’

‘I’m glad you were the one who got to push me down that cliff,’ said Tilly.

‘I’m glad about last night, too.’

Tilly was terribly afraid that she was going to cry. She couldn’t do that, not after being so brave all morning. ‘Me, too.’ She swallowed, hard. ‘Now, get in that taxi and go before I start getting all sloppy!’

‘All right,’ said Campbell.

He held her tight against him for one last hard kiss and then he let her go. ‘Goodbye, Jenkins. Don’t go fulfilling any more fantasies without me.’

Tilly’s determined smile wobbled. ‘Don’t call me Jenkins,’ she managed with difficulty.

Her heart was cracking, tearing, as she watched him get into the taxi. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, but it was barely more than a whisper.

Campbell leant forward to tell the driver to take him to the station, then he looked back at Tilly and lifted a hand in farewell. She waved back, barely able to see through her tears, and then the taxi was pulling away, turning on to the street, and he was gone.

Tilly took a fortifying gulp of champagne. She probably shouldn’t have ordered a glass in her room, but she badly needed something to steady her nerves. In a few minutes, she would have to go downstairs and see Campbell again, and she had no idea how she was going to handle it. For three months now, she had longed to see him, but now the moment was almost upon her she was terrified that she would simply go to pieces.

The programme had been screened the week before. Suzy had done a good job and it had been very cleverly edited, with a fair balance between all the contestants at each stage and good coverage of their chosen charities.

Expecting it to be hidden in the daytime schedule somewhere, Tilly had been taken aback at how popular the programme had proved, and she had been overwhelmed at how many viewers had voted. Perfect strangers had come up to her in the street and told her that they hoped she would win, and the hospice had reported a flood of donations since they had been featured.

Tonight was the final ceremony when they would announce the winners, and the charities who would receive the winning donations. Tilly knew she ought to be nervous about the results, but all she could think about was seeing Campbell.

It had been three months. Three months of telling herself it was all for the best. Three months of trying to forget the night they had spent together.

Three months of missing him.

‘That’s what comes of forcing people out of their ruts,’ she had raged to her brothers. ‘I was perfectly happy until you made me do that stupid television programme.’

‘We were only trying to help you get over Olivier,’ they protested.

‘Well, don’t help any more!’

The kitchen was so empty without Campbell, her bed so lonely. It wasn’t just a physical ache either. Tilly hadn’t realised how alive she had felt in his presence, how everything had seemed to click into place when he’d been there. She missed talking to him, arguing with him, laughing with him…She even missed being exasperated by him. That was how bad it was.

Time and again, she’d tried to convince herself that she didn’t really know Campbell at all. They had spent a matter of days together. She knew nothing about his life, his home, his friends. It was silly to build one night into such a huge deal. Much better to treat it as the brief fling she had insisted it was.

But deep down, she was convinced that she did know him. She knew the way the crease at the corner of his mouth deepened when he was amused. She knew exactly how he turned his head, how his brows contracted, the way he would look at her and shake his head in exasperated disbelief. There had been so many times when she’d wanted to turn to him and tell him her thoughts, and she’d always known exactly how he would reply-usually irritably, of course, but Tilly wouldn’t have cared if only he had been there to reply for himself.

All the participants had been sent a copy of the final programme in advance. Tilly had watched it with Cleo and Tony, although she’d longed to be able to see it on her own so that she could freeze the picture whenever Campbell was on the screen.

Most of the shots were of the two of them together. There she was, clutching Campbell’s neck at the top of that wretched cliff, falling on to the muddy river bank, playing the fool on the mountain top.

Tilly’s throat had ached as she’d watched herself. She remembered it all so clearly. She could practically smell the air and feel the breeze in her face. It was as if Campbell were still beside her, making her tingle with the astringency of his presence, the touch of his hand, the heart-twisting quiver of amusement at the corner of his mouth.