Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. I am not a fan of the commercialised nonsense of St Valentine's Day, but it did spawn an idea...

Tommy hated St Valentine's Day. The shops were awash with chocolates and cards and flowers. Pillar-box red or gold hearts held messages teaching people that love was only real if it came delivered once a year as a ostentatious declaration of something that in reality should be said everyday.

He diverted his eyes as he hurried down the aisle. He was here for milk and a frozen microwave meal. He hated eating alone in restaurants or even pubs on St Valentine's Day. Loved-up couples would snigger in their smug superiority of being in a relationship, no matter how tumultuous it was for the other 363 days of the year. The way they looked at him last year, he may as well have worn a sandwich board with LOSER scrawled across it.

He sighed and surveyed the shelf. Would he choose a reheatable roast? They had beef or lamb but no chicken. Or should he be exotic and buy the Thai Pineapple Curry and Rice? Or the Butter Chicken with Roasted Cashews? He had never tried the Stir-fried Pork in Sweet Plum Sauce. Tommy examined the packet then threw it back on the pile. He did not want to eat a frozen dinner, and he did not want to be alone.

He put the milk back and left the store. Outside in the rain, he sheltered under the awning and dialled the number of the only person he wanted to be with tonight.

"Havers."

"Barbara, it's me. Where are you?"

"Still at the office. I was... catching up on paperwork."

"Will you have dinner with me?"

There was a pause. "Uh, maybe not tonight, Sir. You know. Tomorrow?"

Tommy understood her meaning. He wanted that. He wanted people to think they were together - as a couple. He wanted to be a couple. "Tonight. Please."

He heard her exhale slowly. "Will I meet you at the Prince Albert in fifteen minutes?"

Tommy waved down a passing cab. "No, I'll pick you up in a cab in about ten. I just haled one." He hung up before she could object.

His next call was to secure a private dining room in a restaurant in The Shard. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we booked out. It is St Valentine's Day."

Tommy hated using his title to push ahead of people. He had no desire to ruin someone else's evening just on his whim. "If I book a room in the hotel, could the food be served there?"

"Of course, Sir. I can transfer you if you wish."

"Thank you."

Hotels were different. Tommy knew that unless visiting dignitaries had overrun the city, they always kept spare, but highly overpriced rooms. Nonetheless, his title would be helpful. "Good evening. This is Lord Asherton..."

Barbara stepped into the cab and debated where to sit. Sitting opposite to Tommy was unusual for just two passengers, but next to him might look too forward. She glanced at him. His smile lightened the miserable weather. Being with him made the world so much better. She returned his smile and sat beside him. "Hiya."

"Thanks for being available at short notice."

"I'm always free on Valentine's Day." She saw him wince and instantly regretted saying it. She had meant it as a joke, but it probably sounded embittered.

"Then the world has made a mistake." His big brown eyes looked fondly at her. She felt her face redden. In her fantasy world, now would be the moment he reached over, pulled her into his arms and kissed her madly.

She was glad that he just smiled. She could never cope if her fantasies became real. "Nah, I reckon the world knows I'd be a lousy partner."

Tommy frowned. "As your partner for over ten years, I have to differ. You're the best partner I could have ever hoped for."

Her face was colouring again. "So where are you taking me?"

"You'll see."

When the cab stopped out The Shard, Barbara grimaced. She knew one of Tommy's favourite restaurants was somewhere upstairs. It was probably too posh for her, and she glanced down at the way she was dressed. At least with today's wet weather she had worn trousers and leather shoes instead of her jeans and runners.

"I booked a private suite for us," he told her as they entered the hotel foyer.

"A suite?"

"The private dining rooms were booked out."

"Oh, well that's all right then." Barbara shook her head. He would never understand that normal people did not book suites just to eat. Then it dawned on her. He had booked this for someone else and simply didn't want to waste it. Her mild disappointment was swept aside by a little voice reminding who she was, and Tommy's station in life. He had not brought his work partner to The Shard for a romantic evening.

She was curious who had stood him up in Valentine's Day. She should be annoyed that she was slotted in as a substitute - good old Havers to save the day, but the same part of her brain that wanted him to kiss her screamed at her not to overreact, and to accept his gesture for what it was, friendship.

The suite was bigger than her flat. Cream leather couches dominated the room. They cleverly faced the windows, each other, and the curtains. A small round dining table was set for two. Unusually the places were not opposite each other but set as if there was a third seat behind the curtain. She noticed a door by the window that led to what Barbara envisaged was the bedroom.

Unfazed by their lack of bags, the porter took her coat and bag and hung them on the coat rack. Tommy escorted Barbara to the table and pulled out her chair. She sat then smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Tommy sat. It was odd, but comforting, to have him so close. She could feel the heat from his thigh near hers. The porter paused dramatically then pulled back the curtains. London and the Thames sparkled below them. Barbara was mesmerised by her city. The lights and colours looked so different from this angle, and the rain made the colours run and blend into an ever-changing kaleidoscope.

Soft, almost romantic, music drifted across the room followed by a loud pop. Barbara turned to see the porter pouring two flutes of... French champagne! The woman Tommy had hoped to impress had expensive tastes. The porter smiled at Barbara as he dropped two heart-shaped blocks of frozen watermelon into their glasses. Her face flushed. She wanted to say, 'no hearts, this isn't what it looks', but the man smiled so sweetly she did not want to ruin anything.

"Your waiter will be along shortly, Sir."

Tommy passed her a glass of bubbles. She wanted to make a fuss about how this was not her, but she saw his face. He was enjoying spoiling her. He looked almost happy. It had been a long time since she had seen that look. Only the cruellest of hearts would deny him some joy. So she ignored her negative thoughts and decided just to relax and enjoy the evening.

"Barbara, to our long and happy partnership. Long may it continue."

"Long may it continue." They clinked glasses then sipped her drink. Usually, sparkling wine tasted like aerated vinegar, but this was smooth and fruity. "Oh, this is nice!"

Tommy laughed, mostly with his soft brown eyes that had not moved from her face. "You sound surprised."

"You know me. I have a very unsophisticated palate."

"But you know what you like."

"Yes."

"Then I can teach you the rest."

Tommy ordered the St Valentine's Day degustation menu. He wanted Barbara to experience a variety of tastes and for her not to be under pressure to choose a dish that she might not understand or like. He underestimated the Valentine theme. Butterflied prawns formed a line of little hearts. Baby Roma tomatoes were cut at diagonals, and the two halves joined as hearts. The brilliantly crimson roasted beet soup was adorned with two heart-shaped swirls of sour cream. Even the bread rolls had been baked as love hearts.

Barbara had ignored it until the third course. Then to his surprise, she turned it into a game of trying to guess what the next course would be. "Little heart-shaped pizzas," she suggested.

"For the price I'm paying, I hope not!"

Barbara's face fell. "Sorry."

He put his arm around the back of her chair. She smiled at him in a way that made his heart leap. He tickled her far side, enjoying her squirming against him. "Don't be. I think it will be heart-shaped ravioli."

They were both wrong. It was little savoury pancake hearts. They continued to guess their way through the bottle of champagne and the fifteen-course menu. When they were not eating, Tommy continued to return his arm to her back.

Barbara enjoyed the chocolate gateaux so much; he let her eat half of his cake. With the meal over, Tommy now had a choice. He could take her home and finish the wonderful evening as friends, or he could prolong the night and see if she gave him any clues to how she might react if he kissed her. "Dance with me."

"What?"

Tommy stood and offered his hand. "Dance with me."

Barbara hesitated then took his hand. Instead of leading her to the open space in the centre of the room, Tommy led her to a small area by the window. He held up his leading arm. When she took it, he put his other hand on the small of her back and pulled her close. They swayed to the music as they both gazed out at the city.

"It's beautiful, Sir. Thank you."

"Tommy. Just for tonight, call me Tommy."

"It's beautiful, Tommy." Barbara looked up and gave him a smile that stopped his breathing. He was about to kiss her when doubt clouded her eyes. "I need the bathroom. Too much champers."

"It'll be accessed from the bedroom," he said trying to hide his disappointment. "Through there."

Barbara found it and snibbed the lock then took ten deep breaths. She had almost kissed him. He had looked so relaxed as they danced. When he had asked her to call him Tommy, her heart seized in her chest, yet his name slipped easily over her tongue. She had almost reached up and pulled his lips to hers. "Oh, Tommy! Why did you bring me here? It's cruel."

She calmed down, toiletted, then spent three times longer than normal washing her hands. Calm enough to behave, she dared return to him. In the bedroom, the bed look so inviting and romantic. It seemed a shame to waste it. "Go away evil voice!"

The pillows had been strewn with red rose petals. She sat on the end and leant backwards onto the soft duvet dressed in a crisply starched, linen cover. The curtains were drawn, but she imagined how glorious it would be to make love to him framed by the lights of London.

"Here you are. I was becoming worried."

Barbara tried to sit up, but Tommy was faster and lay down beside her. "I was just..." she began.

"Yes?"

"Imagining what it would be like lying in bed and watching the lights of London."

"Let's find out." Tommy went to the window and opened the curtains. The view was more spectacular than the other room.

"Oh, Tommy! It's magnificent."

"It is. This is perfect." At that moment Tommy loved her beyond words. The way she said his name, banished any doubts he had harboured. Barbara was his life, and he wanted to make love to her right now with their city as a backdrop. It took all his willpower to not leap on the bed, tear of her clothes and surrender to her body. He shuffled backwards to the bed and lay down in a way that he hoped meant she would not see that his body was betraying his mind. He felt like a randy schoolboy unable to control his desires. It was enlivening and frightening.

"Thank you for inviting me. At least sharing dinner with me meant it didn't all go to waste."

"It beats eating a frozen dinner. That was my original plan."

"Whoever she was, she doesn't know what she missed."

Tommy frowned then realised Barbara thought he had planned to bring someone else here. He moved closer to her and leant up on his elbow so he could look at her face. "I booked this for you, Barbara. I called from the cab before I picked you up. When they didn't have a private dining room, I booked this because I wanted to be with you. I know the bed looks like I planned something else, but I didn't, I swear. Just dinner."

Her eyes went wide but softened under a tear. "I don't follow."

"I was standing in front of the frozen meal cabinet in Sainsbury's and thinking that the only person I should be spending St Valentine's Day with was you." Tommy let his face drift closer to hers. He needed her to want this too, not feel obliged or trapped.

"Tommy... I... I know you shag like a randy rabbit, but you can do better than me."

"A randy rabbit?" He put his hands on the sides of his head and waved them about while he raised his top lip to expose his front teeth. "Just call me Mr Fluffy."

"Don't! That's a bit creepy."

He grinned at her when she laughed at him. "Barbara, other than Julia, I haven't been with another woman beside Helen since I started dating her. Since then, I haven't even thought about making love to anyone other than you."

"Me? But I'm... not your type."

"Yes, you are. You and I have something that transcends all that nonsense. It took me too long to work that out, but I have. I love you, Barbara."

"But..."

"Will you answer me honestly?"

She looked down. "Yes."

"What were you really thinking as you lay here?"

Barbara's face went red. "I was wondering what it would be like to make love to you in this bed."

He moved closer, nudging her hip with his groin so that she knew he was thinking along similar lines. "Should we find out?"

Barbara's arms pulled his face down to hers. Their lips met in a fury of need. Hands tore at each other's clothing. Tongues pushed back and forth in synch with the movement of their hips against each other. They broke apart laughing.

"Sorry, Barbara. That was a bit too..."

"Mr Fluffy?"

They laughed and shared another kiss. "I want to make love to you slowly."

"That I will enjoy. I love you, Tommy."

This time their kiss was unhurried and deep, just the way he planned to love her.