Last-Minute Proposal. Jessica Hart

have been as interesting, though,’ said Tilly, meaning it, but Campbell clearly thought that she was joking.

      ‘I’ve had the mick taken out of me for years,’ he said in a resigned voice. ‘Anyone would think I had some bizarre fetish. It’s only military history, for God’s sake.’

      ‘But why the Romans?’

      He shrugged. ‘I like their logical approach. Their sense of order. They were great engineers. Great strategists.’

      ‘And successful,’ Tilly reminded him, sure that was the key to their appeal for him. ‘The Romans were winners, too.’ She caught his look. ‘Hey, I did history at school. Roman history may not be my bedtime reading, but I’m not completely ignorant!’

      She studied him from under her lashes as she toiled on beside him. She hoped he wasn’t regretting telling her. She rather liked the idea of him sitting quietly and reading by the fire, and was touched by the fact that he seemed faintly embarrassed by it, as if he had confessed some weakness.

      ‘So…have you got a fantasy meal cooking in the background while you read your book?’

      ‘I’m afraid I’m not someone who spends a lot of time thinking about food,’ he said. ‘I eat what’s put in front of me. I’ll have some of your roast.’

      Tilly wished he hadn’t said that. It was enough to conjure up an instant cosy domestic scene. There she was, upstairs in the bath, and there was Campbell by the fire. Any minute now he would look at his watch, put his book down and go and check on the roast, then he would come upstairs and sit on the edge of the bath.

      I’ve turned the potatoes, he would say, topping up her glass. If you were going to have a fantasy, Tilly believed, you might as well make it a really good one. Will you be much longer?

      And Tilly would sip her champagne and ask him to wash her back while he was there. She could almost feel his warm, firm hands soaping her, and obviously he wouldn’t stop at her back…

      ‘That must be some bath.’

      Campbell’s voice jerked Tilly out of her daydream. ‘What?’ Disorientated, she looked around her to find that she had somehow made it to the top of the hill without even realising it.

      ‘You haven’t said a word for the last mile. I’m impressed by the power of your fantasising!’

      If only he knew.

      A guilty flush stained Tilly’s cheeks and her eyes slid away from his just in case an ability to mind-read was something else he had forgotten to mention, along with a knowledge of ancient military history.

      Now that she had snapped out of it, she was appalled at herself. What had she been thinking