‘I thought the plan was to stop extravagant spending by the royal family.’

‘Oh,’ she said, and her face fell. ‘Does that have to start today? I thought maybe we could have a little bit of fun first.’ Her laughter disappeared as if he’d reprimanded her. She sank back into the sumptuous upholstery, clipped her seat belt and hugged her dog.

He felt bad. He hadn’t meant to stop her smiling.

She stayed looking defensive. He went on feeling bad. And more.

More? Yes, more. Because suddenly he was hit with this really dumb urge to kiss her better.

Or just to kiss her.

Which was really dumb, he told himself, startled by the intensity of his urge as well as the unexpectedness of it. That would be really stupid.

As was her reaction, he thought, struggling for an even keel. She was acting like he’d slapped her. He was starting to feel like he was always apologising to this woman. She made him feel he was permanently on the back foot.

But if he was going to apologise he might as well get it over with.

‘Maybe I was out of order,’ he conceded. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘There’s a concession,’ she said. ‘But of course you’re right. This is a serious business. A marriage of convenience. There’s not a lot to smile about in that.’

They didn’t speak again as the plane took off. The two settees-cum-airline-seats were forward facing, set in a V, so up to four occupants could talk together. There was a silk-hung divider in front which hid the service compartment and the entrance to the cockpit, but they were essentially alone.

They were sitting side by side, and he felt…weird. She was very close.

But not for long. The plane rose smoothly and the seat-belt sign clicked off. The moment it did Rose gathered Hoppy, unclipped her seat belt and moved herself sharply across the aisle to the other double seat. To the furthest side of the far seat.