And while the man in the suit didn't seem the violent type, the same could not be said of his companion.

Though only a few months younger than Rose, today her cousin looked more like a wayward teenager than a young man with a proper job and decent place to live.

As it turned out, Rose could pick Viktor Krum out of a crowd. Only there wasn’t any need. He was standing right in front of her.

Her brother had such an easy way about him, the kind of relaxed confidence that seemed to draw people in. He didn’t have to go looking for friends – or boyfriends – because they always seemed to come looking for him.

“Publishing is all about timing, Rose. Have I ever told you that?”

“I’m as old a friend as Viktor’s got. And by the looks of you, darling, they are only getting younger.”

“What, you mean the picture of you in your skivvies? Yeah, they’ve seen it. It was pretty hard to miss.”

“Do you want to explain it to her, or should I?” Brooks asked, his attention still focused on Hugo. “I expect it will sound a lot better coming from you.”

His tone was amiable enough. Maybe a bit too good-natured for Rose’s liking. There was something about it that didn’t ring true, though she quite couldn’t put her finger on what it might be.

Rose awoke the next morning to two very unwelcome surprises.

The fires that burned in Rose weren’t just for him – they were for life, for everything that should have been hers for the taking. As for Viktor, Rose was his life, and without her there was no future for him.