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Thankfully they were both too keenly aware of the reason they were temporarily sharing the same space to act on it.

After showering she threw on her loose-fitting jogging pants and matching sweatshirt; comfy over fashion, cozy over looking good. Then ruined the whole casual approach by checking her face in the mirror, tidying her hair into a scrunchie and dabbing a spot of foundation over the pimple that had appeared on her chin.

With a blase confidence she didn’t feel, she breezed into the kitchen. “What are we doing today?”

Luke, back turned to her, stilled and slowly turned around. “Morning.”

“Oh, yes, sorry, good morning.” She fiddled with her fingers, then realized he was watching her so forced herself to stop. “Now the pleasantries are out of the way, have you opened the calendar?”

He eyed her warily. “How much coffee have you had?”

“None yet, why?”

“You’re acting . . . odd.”

“This is just me looking forward to another day in your company.” See, this was easy. With a neat pirouette, slightly ruined by the fact she lost her balance and had to grab the back of a chair to avoid falling over, she scooped up the calendar and opened the window. Please let us keep our clothes on. “Ice skating!” She read out loud, and almost sagged in relief. “We’ll need to dress up warm. Plenty of layers.”

His brow furrowed. “Why do you look so thrilled at the prospect?”

“I love a bit of ice skating at Christmas. All that . . . ice.”

Amusement tugged at his mouth. “The clue is in the name I guess.”

“Yes, well, we just need to agree on a time to go. And a place. I suggest going into the city. Rockefeller Center and Central Park are the usual go-to’s, but I love Bryant Park, so if you’re okay with that, let’s go there. I guess we should book it? I’ll check if we need to book.” She started to walk out.

“Anna.”

Her heart jumped. What was it about the way he said her name, like a deep, ruff growl, that sent a shiver skating down her spine. “Umm?”

“You forgot your coffee.”

She turned round and he held out a mug to her. “Oh. You made me one.”

“I did.”

“That’s . . . nice of you.”

His mouth quirked in amusement. “It is, isn’t it.”

Her fingers grazed his as she took the mug from him, and it felt like touching a live wire, so many electric sparks raced down her arm. Retreat, retreat. Her body refused to obey, though. It remained frozen to the spot as her eyes made the mistake of drifting over his strong jaw, his sensual mouth and up to his hypnotic green gaze.

“It’s not just me feeling weirded out then,” he said in that bone dry tone that made her belly flip flop.

“Apparently not.” The air became charged and as goosebumps raced across her skin, her nipples stood to attention beneath the satin of her bra. “Yesterday was . . . a lot,” she settled on.

He gave her a wry smile. “Not just yesterday.”

“No.” Her mind flashed through images of their moment by his truck, his admission he liked her eyes on him at the spa. Hers that she wanted to feel his hands on her. Their nearly kiss. “Should we go with the talk it out approach this time, or stick with the ostrich approach?”

“Ostrich,” he said firmly, then followed it up with another quirk of his lips. “Far more my style.”

It wasn’t hers, but as they only had a week and a bit left together, maybe it was safer this way. “Okay. I can do ostrich.” She took a swallow of coffee. “But say we wanted to talk about it, I’d say it’s probably just a natural consequence of the fact that we’re both grieving the loss of my brother. And that’s manifesting into . . . well . . . a connection.”

“A connection?”

“Yes.” She latched onto the word like a drowning woman who’d just been thrown a rubber ring. “We feel a connection to each other because of Colin.”

He nodded solemnly. “And this connection. That’s what makes me want to kiss you until your knees give way?”