and Caitlin sensed her whole body tighten in exquisite response.
‘It’s more practical for work to wear it short. Easier to manage,’ she murmured. ‘I see you’ve grown yours.’
He was staring at her and didn’t look away. ‘I’m viewed as quite the bohemian these days.’
‘You always went your own way, as far as I could tell.’
‘You didn’t seem to mind.’
‘I liked it that you were…different.’
‘So, tell me…do you still have a penchant for older men, or have your tastes changed since you’ve been in London?’
‘That was unnecessary!’
To Caitlin’s consternation Flynn reached out and touched her hair, completely immune to her discomfort at his definitely barbed comment. Her heart went wild as he drew his palm over its softness.
‘What do you do in London, by the way?’
‘Do? I—I work in a bookstore.’
She saw an interested gleam in his aquamarine gaze. Yes, she knew about his books—and she had thrilled to see them, to see his photograph on the inside jacket sleeve. For a while it had given Caitlin the confirmation she’d yearned for. He still inhabited the world safely. He was now a much-admired author and clearly doing well.
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