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in the cosy dining room half an hour later, having showered and changed and restored herself to some semblance of normality. Except that she could still feel the touch of Cameron's hands on her when he had helped her from the lift.
    'Your companion will be here directly,' the waiter informed her.
    Ginger frowned. 'My what?' Her gaze strayed towards the entrance and she saw that Cameron was being led across to her. 'Excuse me, he's not... I mean, we're not...' Oh, hell!
    Dressed in smart dark grey trousers and a matching shirt, the outfit seemed to heighten his dangerous edge and highlight the colour of his eyes and hair. He looked amazing, she admitted, noting too that he hadn't shaved, still having the rakish, piratical air she found so compelling.
    'I'm sorry about this.' He smiled as he sat down.
    'Don't worry. It seems easier to go with the flow under the circumstances.'
    Ginger couldn't help but be affected by the electricity that simmered between them as they studied their menus and placed their orders.
    'I'll stick with mineral water, thank you,' she decided, when wine was offered. She definitely needed to keep a clear head around this man.
    'Me, too.'
    She glanced up, fearing she'd spoken the words out loud. 'Sorry?'
    'The mineral water,' Cameron explained.
    'Oh!' She sent him a relieved smile. 'Of course.'
    Ginger was thankful when their food came and the need to make small talk was removed for a while. The growing tension was undeniable and they had just about exhausted safe topics of conversation, such as the weather. Her meal was delicious, and she realised how hungry she was, having had nothing but the apple on the train since her rushed breakfast early that morning. Aware of Cameron watching her, she glanced across the table at him.
    'What?'
    He shook his head and smiled. 'I just find it wonderfully refreshing to meet a woman who enjoys her food. Far too many people are faddy about what they eat, or pander to so-called fashion in a vain attempt to achieve a body shape that's just not natural or necessary.'
    'I couldn't agree more.' Ginger stared at him in amazement. To follow his own expression, she found it wonderfully refreshing to meet someone who shared her outlook on eating and health. Given her profession, and the sad stories she heard every working day, she knew how rare his attitude was and found him even more intriguing. 'So you're not one of society's many members who value thinness at all cost?'
    'Hell, no! Thinness doesn't necessarily equal health or wellness. And personally I'm not attracted to skinny women.'
    His voice had dropped an octave, and something about that throaty tone, along with the blatant appreciation in his eyes, made her pulse start to race and her nerves tingle with excitement. Again she remembered how he had looked at her on the train, and that made heat curl through her. She swallowed, keen to move the conversation on to less dangerous territory.
    'You're in London on business?' Her change of subject caused an amused smile to curve his divine mouth and brought a reappearance of his dimple.
    'Shh.' Glancing covertly around the sparsely occupied dining room, he leaned closer to her, his whisper confidential. 'Top-secret hit-man business.'
    Ginger couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled from within her, but she struggled to control her expression and whispered back. 'You could tell me, but then you'd have to kill me?'
    'Exactly.' Grey eyes gleamed with appreciation and amused delight. He leaned back and took a sip of his water. 'Much as I hate to destroy the illusion, my presence here is far less exotic. I have a meeting in the morning and I'm in court in the afternoon.'
    'Right.' So he was some kind of lawyer, was he? She could imagine him either bewitching or intimidating a jury or defendant. Foolishly disappointed their game had ended, Ginger returned her attention to her meal.
    'What about you, Ginger? What brings you to London?'
    'I have a presentation at two.'
    She focused on