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‘Maybe I might. Depending.’

‘On what?’ Whatever it was, he was pretty sure he was going to agree to it, or do it, or figure out a way to make it happen.

‘On whether or not you order what you really want to eat.’ She squeezed his fingers. ‘If you want to change the way you eat, then I’m happy to offer you any advice and recipes or whatever. But you should only do it because you want to, not because you think it would make me or anyone else like you better.’

‘You’re really OK if I sit here and eat beef in front of you?’

‘I appreciate that you asked, but I really am OK with it. For goodness’ sake, you’ve seen what some of my residents eat. I’m really not that squeamish, and I really would like you to relax and enjoy yourself. And be yourself. I’m here because I like you, Ryan. It would be nice to get to know you better.’ She looked up as the waiter returned with their drinks. ‘I don’t suppose it would be too late to change our order, would it?’

* * *

Angela looked at the dessert and tried not to laugh. Just like the main it was beautifully plated, incredibly elegant and utterly tiny. She had no doubt it would be delicious, but honestly, half a sliced apple, three walnuts and a spoonful of oats was not what she considered an apple crumble. Even if it was deconstructed. And anytime custard was served in an egg cup — albeit a cut glass and incredibly elegant one — it wasn’t going to be anywhere near enough for her liking.

Even taking extra time between bites, she finished the dessert in record time and reached for the coffee that had accompanied it — ironically served in a cup big enough to have bathed one of her hedgehogs in.

‘There is absolutely no way you’re paying for this.’ Ryan pulled the smart leather bill-holder out of her reach before she could look at it.

‘I’m happy to go halves,’ she argued, while wondering whether they’d be charged half-price for the less than half-sized meals. Probably not.

‘Please, you’re my guest. It’s my pleasure, honestly.’

‘Ryan . . .’ she started to argue.

‘Nope.’ He held it out of her reach. ‘I’m not letting you pay.’

‘You’re not letting me? Really?’

‘Really.’ He grinned at her. ‘And you can glare at me all you want, it’s not going to work, and I know you’re faking. You’re not really annoyed with me.’

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘Yeah, because you have a tell.’ He wriggled his eyebrows at her, and she had to try really hard not to laugh. ‘Right here.’ He stroked her cheek, making her shiver. ‘It’s not quite a dimple, but a sort of mini one. And it appears when you’re trying not to laugh. You get the same look when you’re trying to tell off Ruby or Mallow.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Well how often do you look in a mirror when you’re trying to scold a fox?’

‘Not often.’

‘So you’re going to let me pay for dinner, right?’ He continued stroking her cheek, and the shivery sensations made it more difficult to concentrate. ‘Say yes, Angela. Just for once, let someone look after you. Please?’

‘All right. Yes. Thank you.’

‘You’re more than welcome.’ He signalled to the waiter, paid, then tucked a cash tip into the folder.

Angela blanched at the notes he’d folded and left. Either he was an incredibly generous tipper, or the meal had been far more expensive than she wanted to know.

‘Are you ready?’ He held her coat out for her, helping her into it, then offered his arm as they walked back down the long corridor.

‘There’s something I feel like I want to tell you,’ he murmured as they stepped into the now-empty reception.

‘OK.’ Angela turned to look at him.

‘It’s a bit of a confession, really.’

‘I’m starting to feel a little worried. Should I be?’

‘No, not worried. Although I have to admit I’m feeling kind of nervous.’ His shy smile was so unlike the smarmy, cocky grin when he’d first shoved a camera in her face — she couldn’t help but think about how much he’d changed.