He's taken to sleeping naked.

After the second day of 33-plus degrees heat, Jack had given up on pyjamas and had taken to using a wet towel as a pillow – anything to try and snatch some sleep from the muggy nights. But the temperatures kept rising, Melbourne kept sweltering, and Jack continued to feel frazzled by the unrelenting heat.

Perhaps temporary heat-induced madness was the reason why he had found himself agreeing to accompany Miss Fisher to Queenscliff for the weekend.

They'd driven down in her car, the roof up to avoid sunstroke on the open road. Arriving late Friday night, they'd been shown to their rooms (separate, but with a connecting door) at the hotel. With the glass door to the first floor veranda open and a seabreeze stirring the air, Jack had quickly fallen asleep.

Which was how he came to be waking up in a luxuriously appointed room of the Queenscliff Hotel, the sheets wrapped low around his hips as he contemplated what fresh surprises Miss Fisher was likely to spring upon him today. Not that he regretted agreeing to the excursion – last night's blissfully cool sleep had made the trip worthwhile alone. No, it was not with regret that he stared at the ceiling, but rather with a well-deserved sense of suspicion. A weekend away at the seaside with the woman who consistently surprised him with her schemes and ideas - what had he got himself into?

Twenty minutes later, Jack was washed, dressed and sitting downstairs in the dining room reading the Queenscliff Herald when Phryne dropped gracefully into the chair beside him and snagged his last slice of jam on toast.

"With us at last?" Jack teased, eyes still on the local weather report. From the corner of his eye, he watched Phryne make a face at him, her mouth occupied with a cup of Turkish coffee. Truth be told (although he'd never admit it to a living soul), there was a sense of anticipation building inside him as they sat close together, the bustle of the breakfast crowd around them. Phryne was not known for doing what society expected, but even she could not fail to realise the signals she was sending with this little jaunt. Two days in a seaside hotel…just the two of them…with swimming and ice lollies on the seashore set to fill their time…

Jack was not a stupid man. And the way Phryne was looking at him from over the rim of her coffee cup when she thought he wasn't watching -

Well. Perhaps the heat wasn't the only thing building to a peak this weekend.