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the subtle approach. “Did Daddy tell you to do that?”
    His laugh covered embarrassment. “No. The opposite. He said, ‘Keep your hands off my princess, Rocky, or you’ll be looking for a new place to live.’ After I get out of hospital, I gathered.”
    “Really?” This was getting more and more titillating. “Your name’s Rocky?”
    “What? It’s a perfectly good name.” She could hardly concentrate on speaking. His head was tilted, resting on an arm, his whole body stretched out and languid. She wanted to touch it so badly, even more so now that he was forbidden fruit.
    “Do you box?”
    He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His voice was dark and low—not Barry White low, but still deep enough to create a vibration all over her.
    “No. Do you?”
    “I don’t mind a little bit of sparring.” The loudspeakers out on the Esplanade crackled into life and Laura remembered, reluctantly, what they were there for. “Anyway. You’ve already saved my life once—but we’ve still got an emergency on our hands. How are we going to fix my hair and this eye? God, it looks awful .”
    “Here.” Rocky slipped a comb out of his inside pocket and handed it to her.
    “It’s no good—the mirror is too small. I can’t see what I’m doing. Can you…?”
    He took the comb back and put a hand on Laura’s shoulder, swivelling her round to face him. “I’m not a hairdresser,” he cautioned her. “So don’t sue me if it ends up worse.”
    She simply held her face up to him, staring unblinkingly while he steadied her chin with one hand and used the other to tidy up the locks that had strayed from their clips and pins.
    “Don’t you have any gel or spray?” she asked, slightly regretting having to break the look of fierce focus in his eyes. It was unsettling in a way to have this amazing man concentrating on her so intently—but also more exciting than anything she could remember. More than roller coasters, skinny-dipping, sneaking wine coolers into the youth club, her first kiss, all the sex she’d ever had, getting the call from Elite. More than anything .
    “You’ll be fine,” he tutted, fixing a clip to the side of her head and reversing a little to examine his work. “That’s tidy now.”
    She put her hand to the coiled sweeps of hair. It did feel right.
    “But what about my eye?”
    “Do you have any of that skin stuff you rub in? What’s it called?”
    “Foundation? Concealer? Actually, yes, I do have a concealer stick.” Laura fished it out of her purse. He popped the lid off and waved it dangerously near her eye. She recoiled but he grabbed the back of her neck and held her in position. His hand was firm and warm on her nape; the pads of his fingers felt like rough velvet pressing into her skin. He might do this if he was going to kiss her. Was he going to kiss her?
    Her lips hung open and her breath was escaping in uncontrollable little sighs while he worked at blotting out the signs of the fracas. He applied the concealer gently, careful not to hurt the bruising areas, almost too lightly to be felt, but he was doing a very thorough job, underneath the socket and then at the crease and then gliding gently over her eyelid, with his glacial blue stare boring into her.
    “Hmmm,” he murmured. The tip of his nose was a fraction of an inch away from hers. “Not sure it’s working.”
    It’s working for me. But she didn’t say it. “I can’t get photographed for the local rag with a massive black eye,” she mourned. “What are we going to do, Rocky?”
    Laura put a hand on his knee and he flinched, just a little.
    “You’re my guardian angel. Guardian angels always have a plan.”
    “Laura,” he said. She loved the way he said her name, especially the touch of hoarseness in his voice. “I’m trying to help…”
    “I know you are.” She could see the top of a pair of sunglasses peeking out of his jacket pocket. She reached forward to swipe them and put them on. Not