style="font-size:15px;"> Perhaps a cold one.
She started to scuttle off down the passageway.
‘Ellie …?’ he called after her, a laugh underscoring his words.
The urge to keep going was powerful, but she turned and popped her head back through the open door. ‘Yes?’
Mark was grinning at her. She had the sudden sinking feeling she didn’t want to know why.
‘I was going to have a shower, remember? You were cooking.’
Ellie closed her eyes gently and darted a moist tongue over her bottom lip, trying to work out how to salvage the situation. She looked at Mark with her best matter-of-fact expression. ‘Of course.’
For some reason he looked very pleased with himself. He wasn’t going to tease her about this for months to come, was he? What if he guessed it was him who had got her all in a fluster?
Once her cotton wool legs had taken her back to the chopping board she set about peeling the garlic, trying to block Mark’s view of her shaking hands with her body. She heard the scrape of his stool across the floor as he rose from his seat. Every part of her body strained to hear his movements as he left the room. She stripped the skin off a clove of garlic, leaving it vulnerable and naked, and listened to Mark whistling something chirpy as he bounded up the stairs at least two at a time.
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