She didn’t answer straight away, continuing to gather her papers, a slight smile on her lips, her perfect white teeth worrying at her full bottom lip as she snapped each rubber band and attached each bulldog clip exactly so on each bundle of papers with long fingers before sliding each highlighter pen neatly into its plastic case.

He’d never been the slightest bit interested in unravelling the mysteries of women’s apparently universal love affair with stationery. But now? Watching Sarah sort her pens in an obvious order, not just one after the other, but some at this end of that packet, another there, it occurred to him that if there was a woman in the world who could make stationery fascinating, he was looking at her.

‘If I was looking serene…’ Her tone was light and cheery without any trace of the embarrassment or confusion he’d glimpsed initially. ‘Then I must have been thinking about the shoe sale I’m ducking out to at lunch.’

‘Not buying it,’ he said good-naturedly. ‘But I am buying coffee. And since we all planned on being here for at least another hour, you can’t say you’re needed back at work.’

Sarah had finished gathering her things and he held the door open for her as they walked to the lifts.

‘I wasn’t going to,’ she said as she glanced up at him before entering the lift. ‘But at last count I’ve had three cups of coffee this morning.’

Bending his head close to hers, he said softly, ‘You’re not answering my question.’

‘I’m not?’

‘Telling me how much caffeine you’ve had doesn’t tell me whether you want more. With me.’

‘Ah.’ She smiled as the lift doors opened at the ground floor and his spirits rose anew. She glanced at a giant metal clock suspended on the rear wall of the foyer and apparently discerned the time from the bare face and the single razor-sharp hand before he’d even been sure it was a clock. ‘I have half an hour but, really, if I have any more coffee I’ll be flying back to work. As it is, I’d better walk back to get rid of some of these caffeine jitters.’

She was definitely looking agitated but the pink in her cheeks and the way she wasn’t quite meeting his eyes suggested any jitters weren’t from the caffeine. Did he make her nervous or was she as aware of the energy between them as he was?

‘You have to walk past the fire station. I’ll walk with you.’

‘You don’t want a coffee?’

‘I’m trying to cut down,’ he said, laughing, letting her know that wasn’t the slightest bit true, and the coffee had only been a reason to be with her. Walking would do just as well.

They turned right onto the street and headed up through the city. He automatically shortened his long strides so she could keep pace as he chatted to her about her work and answered her questions about the simulated exercise.

And all the while, he was working towards one thing: eroding whatever notion she’d got into her very appealing mind that she should keep her distance. Sure, she’d come along every time he’d suggested coffee or a drink but only once she’d been sure the others were going to be there, too. Why was that? He wanted her; he was confident now the interest was mutual. So why the hesitation to explore it?

There was a lot more to Sarah Richardson than looks and brains. If he didn’t figure out why he couldn’t get her out of his head, he was going to go crazy.

‘What does the rest of the day hold for you?’ Sarah asked as they came into sight of the station.

‘More paperwork for the CBR training and when that’s done I practise looking busy.’

‘How do you do that exactly?’ Sarah looked at him, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. Her question gave him the flash of inspiration he was waiting for. Genius!

‘Come in and I’ll show you. There’s a knack to it.’

They’d reached the station and were standing before the massive glass doors that were tall enough to allow the biggest of the engines to exit and enter. A row of shiny red fire engines was visible through the glass. ‘Can I?’

He did a mental punch of the air. He should have invited her for a private tour of the station weeks ago.

‘You can and you shall.’ He placed a hand on the small of her back, relishing the body warmth coming through her shirt, telling himself the desire kicking up and down his spine wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

It was all about the challenge.

Why, then, was he filled with a sudden urge to show her how good he was at his job and a rush of excitement that he was about to get the opportunity?

The equation was simple: if she wanted him and he wanted her, chemistry would take care of all the little details. He could sit back and enjoy letting the attraction unfold.

The niggling sense of pressure to make a good impression didn’t mean anything.

It was craziness, pure and simple, but she could have clapped her hands with glee when he’d asked her to see the station. She resisted giving such a physical demonstration of her pleasure. Just. She didn’t manage to disguise it completely, though. The cool, calm and collected woman she’d intended to present herself as wouldn’t have said quite so excitedly, ‘What can I see first?’

‘Enthusiastic tour groups, that’s the sort we like.’ He led her through one of the open doors, between two huge fire engines, until they were standing in the central area of the station, looking past the vehicles out to the city street.

‘The fire trucks are all different,’ she said, waving a hand along the row of vehicles while mentally giving her fears about men a swift kick into submission. It was just a visit to the fire station, something she’d be keen to do with or without Ned playing tour guide, she tried to convince herself.

‘Appliances,’ Ned said.

She must have looked confused. For a moment she had almost looked around for a white-goods section.

‘They’re called appliances, not trucks.’

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded.

‘You’re not going to make a crack about us driving around in toasters and washing machines?’

‘The thought never crossed my mind,’ she lied, as she smiled innocently at him.

‘In that case, it’s settled. You get the extra-special tour reserved for extra-special people who don’t make cracks about firemen. The burden we bear for the good of the city,’ he added on a dramatic note.

‘A thespian in a fireman’s pants?’

‘You’d be surprised what you’d find inside a fireman’s pants.’ The sparkle in his eyes told her he was fully aware of the innuendo in his comment.

Who could blame her if her cheeks flamed to match the appliances?

‘Get your mind out of the gutter,’ he teased. ‘I’m speaking figuratively.’

‘Like I should know that. But you can’t stop now. Titillate me with tales of firemen’s pants.’

‘There you go again,’ he said, shaking his head at her as they walked to the largest of the engines and he leant against it with a casual air, perfectly in his element and posing more danger by the minute to her already wobbly equilibrium. ‘But since you really want to know, I’ll let you inside just a few of the pairs of pants around this joint. We have an artist, a nurse…’ he held up a hand and counted them off on his fingers ‘…a carpenter, several professional footballers…’ He started the count again with his right hand. ‘A builder and a chef.’

‘So I shouldn’t be surprised at what I find? Even a thespian?’

‘Sure, why not?’ He straightened up and pulled open the door of the vehicle as if it was made of paper, not the huge, heavy thing she knew it was. ‘And if I ever come across one, I’ll be sure to introduce you.’

He sent her a wink that turned her insides to jelly and then motioned her over. She floated across as if under a spell. That was some wink. And now, between his bulk, all broad shoulders and long, lean height, and the huge vehicle rising up beside them, she felt delightfully feminine.