‘I’ll explain, but not here. Meet me outside in five minutes.’ The line went dead before she could argue.

Four minutes later, she rose from her seat and, grabbing her camera bag and coat, walked to the door. She tried to appear casual, but it felt as if everyone was watching her. Everyone except Owen. He was typing something furiously fast, apparently oblivious of all around him.

In the downstairs lobby, she pulled on her yellow coat because rain was forecast again, slung her bag over her shoulder and went out through the street door.

Two minutes later, Owen burst through the same door.

‘Thank you,’ he said, grasping her arm in a firm but gentle grip.

‘What’s all this about?’

‘Not here. Let’s get a coffee, and I’ll tell you.’

He walked her to the same café where she had met Kate last Friday, shortly after her first encounter with Owen in Trafalgar Square. She remembered again the dreadful state he’d been in. Something dreadful had happened to him that day, and she still didn’t know what.

Now, he was looking at her nervously as he pulled out a chair for her to sit. A dark-haired girl came over to their table as Owen took his place.

‘Good morning, sir.’ The server turned on a floodlight smile for Owen. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Coffee, straight black, please.’ He looked at Lexie. ‘What will you have?’

‘Same.’

‘Anything to eat?’ he asked.

‘No, thanks.’

‘You’re missing out on the office doughnuts.’

‘I know. Doesn’t matter.’ She noticed a frown flicker between his brows before he turned to the girl, still smiling at him and eating him up with wild, ravenous brown eyes.

‘Two black coffees.’

‘We’ve got a yummy walnut cake.’

‘No.’ Owen shook his head, and Lexie caught the tiniest of smiles before he said, ‘The boss has spoken. Nothing to eat, thanks.’

As soon as they were alone again, Lexie asked, ‘What’s going on? What’s with all the cloak and dagger stuff?’

‘I know what you did yesterday.’ He smiled at her frown and added, ‘The Harley Street images?’

‘Oh, those.’ She shrugged.

‘Yes, those.’

Owen was still smiling, a sort of half lop-sided smile that deepened the dimple in his right cheek, and he was watching her. His eyes, dark and softly sparkling. They almost seemed to glow. Lexie gulped, realising she had been holding her breath.

Owen sat up as if he’d just been snapped out of a trance and he continued speaking, ‘I have to thank you, Lex. You saved me. George was hopping mad over the photos first thing this morning. Until the Blanchards arrived and everything except the brothers went out of his head.’

He sat back as the coffees arrived.

‘You’re Owen Kingsley, aren’t you?’ the girl said, staring wide-eyed at him and treating him to the full glow of another radiant smile.

‘Who?’ Owen looked blank, then added, ‘Never heard of him. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.’

The heat went out of the server’s smile, and she backed away, embarrassed. Lexie had to look down to hide her amusement, but she heard the confusion in the girl’s voice saying, ‘I’m so sorry. I was certain you were him.’ The ‘him’ said with a thick layer of reverence.

‘Don’t worry about it. We all look like someone. I guess I must look like this Kingsley guy, whoever he is. Sorry to disappoint.’