victim of one.
‘ Oh my God! Are you Ok? Where are you?’
‘ I'm fine,’ Jane repeated. ‘Marsh rescued me.’
‘ Marsh?’ said Pol. ‘Is that the one with the nice arse?’
Jane couldn't help but smile. Trust Polly to remember that one fact above all else. ‘Yes, that's the one.’
There was some murmuring in the background and Polly said, ‘Shut up Andy.’ Then, ‘So where are you now?’
‘ I'm in his flat …’ Jane felt a strong urge to giggle.
‘ What? Jane, what's going on?’
Suddenly, it was all too funny. ‘He's in the shower,’ she said, giggling. ‘He made me a cup of tea.’
‘ Jane? Jane , you're scaring me. Tell me where you are and we'll come and get you.’
‘ No, no.’ Jane wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to stop the laughter. ‘I'm fine. Honestly. Marsh has been a total gentleman. He brought me in here into the warm and made me a cup of tea. He even gave me his phone to call the police and report the mugging.’
There was silence from the other end, and then Polly said, ‘Let me get this straight. You got mugged. This guy with the nice arse rescued you and took you back to his flat?’
‘ Yes.’
‘ Why didn't he bring you to your flat?’
‘ I asked him not to,’ said Jane, suddenly feeling bad. Polly would have looked after her.
‘ Why?’
Jane didn't want to hurt Polly's feelings by telling her that she didn't really feel at home in her friend’s flat. She felt like she was in the way. ‘I … He was wearing running shorts,’ she said finally.
Now it was Polly's turn to laugh. ‘Ok, I see what you mean. Well, if he tries anything funny, just call me and Andy will come and pick you up, Ok?’
‘ Ok.’
‘ What's the number there, just in case?’
Jane turned the phone round and read the number that was printed on it in neat feminine handwriting. She had seen Marsh's scrawl before. It wasn't his.
She heard the bathroom door open. ‘He's coming back. I've got to go,’ she said and quickly hung up. She dialled the police and was busy giving the policewoman a list of what was stolen when Marsh came back in. She didn't look up, but concentrated on what she was saying. She could hear him moving around, making himself a drink.
She heaved a sigh of relief when she'd finished.
Marsh leaned on the other side of the breakfast bar. ‘Sorted?’
‘ I think so.’ He was barely a foot away from her. His hair was still damp from his shower and stood in unruly ridges where he'd run his fingers through it. She could smell his shampoo. She looked down, afraid to look into his eyes in case he noticed that she fancied him.
‘ You should cancel your credit cards,’ he said, finally.
‘ Yes, I should.’
‘ Would you like some food? I could do us some pasta.’
Suddenly her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since lunchtime. ‘That would be lovely.’
As she made her phone calls, she watched Marsh cook. If anything, he looked even more sexy in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He moved confidently round the kitchen, slicing garlic and chopping vegetables.
When he said he'd make pasta, she had assumed he would just open a jar of sauce. She hadn't expected him to cook a proper meal from scratch. She tried to remember the last time a man had cooked for her. Ashby's idea of cooking was making a sandwich.
By the time Jane had finished her calls, the kitchen smelled wonderful. He got plates out. ‘Would you like a glass of wine? I'm having one.’
‘ Yes, please.’
He placed two glasses of red wine and a big dish of pasta with a tomatoey sauce in front of her and pulled up a stool opposite her. ‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his glass.
Now that the food was in front of her, she found she was really hungry. Jane tried a bit of her pasta. ‘This is delicious,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘ You're welcome.’
‘ To be honest, I was surprised to see you made it from scratch,’ said Jane, when she'd eaten a bit. ‘Do you
‘ Oh my God! Are you Ok? Where are you?’
‘ I'm fine,’ Jane repeated. ‘Marsh rescued me.’
‘ Marsh?’ said Pol. ‘Is that the one with the nice arse?’
Jane couldn't help but smile. Trust Polly to remember that one fact above all else. ‘Yes, that's the one.’
There was some murmuring in the background and Polly said, ‘Shut up Andy.’ Then, ‘So where are you now?’
‘ I'm in his flat …’ Jane felt a strong urge to giggle.
‘ What? Jane, what's going on?’
Suddenly, it was all too funny. ‘He's in the shower,’ she said, giggling. ‘He made me a cup of tea.’
‘ Jane? Jane , you're scaring me. Tell me where you are and we'll come and get you.’
‘ No, no.’ Jane wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to stop the laughter. ‘I'm fine. Honestly. Marsh has been a total gentleman. He brought me in here into the warm and made me a cup of tea. He even gave me his phone to call the police and report the mugging.’
There was silence from the other end, and then Polly said, ‘Let me get this straight. You got mugged. This guy with the nice arse rescued you and took you back to his flat?’
‘ Yes.’
‘ Why didn't he bring you to your flat?’
‘ I asked him not to,’ said Jane, suddenly feeling bad. Polly would have looked after her.
‘ Why?’
Jane didn't want to hurt Polly's feelings by telling her that she didn't really feel at home in her friend’s flat. She felt like she was in the way. ‘I … He was wearing running shorts,’ she said finally.
Now it was Polly's turn to laugh. ‘Ok, I see what you mean. Well, if he tries anything funny, just call me and Andy will come and pick you up, Ok?’
‘ Ok.’
‘ What's the number there, just in case?’
Jane turned the phone round and read the number that was printed on it in neat feminine handwriting. She had seen Marsh's scrawl before. It wasn't his.
She heard the bathroom door open. ‘He's coming back. I've got to go,’ she said and quickly hung up. She dialled the police and was busy giving the policewoman a list of what was stolen when Marsh came back in. She didn't look up, but concentrated on what she was saying. She could hear him moving around, making himself a drink.
She heaved a sigh of relief when she'd finished.
Marsh leaned on the other side of the breakfast bar. ‘Sorted?’
‘ I think so.’ He was barely a foot away from her. His hair was still damp from his shower and stood in unruly ridges where he'd run his fingers through it. She could smell his shampoo. She looked down, afraid to look into his eyes in case he noticed that she fancied him.
‘ You should cancel your credit cards,’ he said, finally.
‘ Yes, I should.’
‘ Would you like some food? I could do us some pasta.’
Suddenly her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since lunchtime. ‘That would be lovely.’
As she made her phone calls, she watched Marsh cook. If anything, he looked even more sexy in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He moved confidently round the kitchen, slicing garlic and chopping vegetables.
When he said he'd make pasta, she had assumed he would just open a jar of sauce. She hadn't expected him to cook a proper meal from scratch. She tried to remember the last time a man had cooked for her. Ashby's idea of cooking was making a sandwich.
By the time Jane had finished her calls, the kitchen smelled wonderful. He got plates out. ‘Would you like a glass of wine? I'm having one.’
‘ Yes, please.’
He placed two glasses of red wine and a big dish of pasta with a tomatoey sauce in front of her and pulled up a stool opposite her. ‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his glass.
Now that the food was in front of her, she found she was really hungry. Jane tried a bit of her pasta. ‘This is delicious,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘ You're welcome.’
‘ To be honest, I was surprised to see you made it from scratch,’ said Jane, when she'd eaten a bit. ‘Do you
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