"But we still couldn't afford-"

"It's a reasonable rent."

"But what about your flat?"

"I'd lease it for a good deal more than the mortgage, I imagine."

"What about child-minding for Toby? Without Hazel-"

"There's a good infant school just down the road from the station. And a good comprehensive for Kit not too far away. Now, any other objections?" He grasped her shoulders and looked down into her eyes.

"No… it's just… it seems too good to be true."

"You can't hold the future at bay forever, love. And we won't disappoint you. I promise."

Perhaps he was right… No! She knew he was right. When Toby's father had left her, alone with a new infant and no support, she had resolved never to depend on anyone again. But Kincaid had never failed her in any way- why should she not trust him in this, as well? Gemma let herself relax into his arms.

"Blue-and-yellow dishes in the kitchen," she murmured against his chest. "And a bit of paint in the bedrooms, don't you think?"

He nuzzled her hair. "Is that a yes?"

She felt herself teetering on the edge of a precipice. Once committed, the safety of her old life would be gone. There could be no turning back. But she no longer had the luxury of putting off the decision until she had exorcised the very last smidgen of doubt. With that realization came a most unexpected flood of relief, and an unmistakable fizz of excitement.

"Yes," she told him. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Moisture ringed the street lamps along Park Lane as the December dusk faded into dull evening. The air felt dense, as if it might collapse in upon itself, and the smattering of Christmas lights made only a pallid affront to the gloom.

Bloody Friday traffic, thought Dawn Arrowood. Suddenly claustrophobic, she cracked the window of her Mercedes and inched into the long tailback at Hyde Park Corner. She'd known better than to drive into the West End, but she hadn't been able to face the thought of the crowded tube, with the inevitable pushing and shoving and the too-intimate exposure to unwashed bodies.