“Oh my God.” My eyes are popping out of my head. “I want it all.”

“Where do you want to start? I’m going to have a full cooked breakfast. Need to keep up my strength.”

I giggle, and he sends me a wry look before picking up a plate and starting to help himself.

I honestly don’t know where to start because it all looks amazing. In the end, I return to the table with a small bowl of the breakfast hash and a glass of orange juice.

I’ve taken so long to decide that Fraser is already sitting there with his large cooked breakfast, and he stares at my bowl and says, “Seriously?”

“I decided small portions of everything was the way to go,” I tell him. “This is just a starter.”

He laughs and pours some ketchup on his plate. “Glad to hear it.”

I have a sip of the latte that’s waiting for me, then tuck into the hash. It’s amazing, piping hot, the potatoes crunchy and the pulled pork juicy and soft.

We eat quietly for a bit, looking out across the waterfront to the sparkling Pacific Ocean. It looks as if it’s going to be a fantastic day, with the sky mostly clear apart from a few small fluffy white clouds, and it’s already warm.

“Should be nice weather for the ball,” he says.

“Mmm.” I have another mouthful of the hash. I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but I’m so curious that I know I have to ask. “Fraser? If it wasn’t work you were worried about, why were you lying awake last night?”

He eats a forkful of bacon as he studies me. Gradually, his expression turns puzzled. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“Um, no. Were you thinking about Ginger? Missing her, maybe?”

He stares at me. Then he leans back and looks out of the window.

I watch him, thinking how handsome he is, and wondering if I was close to the mark. Maybe he felt disloyal to Ginger bysleeping with me, or it awakened memories of her that upset him. Perhaps he’s finally regretting letting her go.

For some reason, the mouthful of food I’ve just eaten sticks in my throat, and I have to take a big swig of orange juice to wash it down.

I expect him to look regretful when his gaze returns to me, or sad even. He doesn’t, though. Instead, his bright-blue eyes are hot, like the center of a Bunsen burner flame.

“I lay awake last night thinking about you, Hallie,” he says. “Our t-time together was magical, amazing. I’ve wanted you since the moment I m-met you. And I’m absolutely gutted to think that I can’t have you again, when all I can think about is tasting you once more, and watching you c-come beneath me.”

Chapter Twelve

Fraser

Wow, The Stutter is hitting me big time. I guess it’s not really a surprise.

I shouldn’t have said it. But I couldn’t have Hallie imagining I was thinking about Ginger, or that all I’m concerned about is my job.

She’s sitting staring at me with complete incomprehension. It really didn’t enter her head that last night might have been earth-shattering for me, as well as her.

I’m not being egotistical when I think that it was special for her—as soon as she enters the dating game, she’ll discover that I’m nothing out of the ordinary, but I could see last night how shocked she was at our lovemaking. I can only imagine how different the experience was compared to her time with Ian.

“Oh,” she says. She blinks, and then, in the space of about five seconds, she goes completely scarlet.

I try not to laugh, and fail. “Aw, Hallie. You must have had some inkling, surely.”

She just gives a tiny shake of her head.

I guess some men might find her innocence and her lack of self-confidence annoying or frustrating. But even though I hate Ian for what he’s done to her, I still can’t deny that I find her naivety delightful.

I have a mouthful of sausage and toast, and chew it as she continues to sit there, clearly utterly bemused.

“Eat your food before it goes cold,” I say eventually.