She just kept thinking about that Moment. Not when he'd kissed her - though that had been good - but when he'd leant forward and gently pushed her down onto the bed. Every time she thought about it, her stomach did a little flip. She'd quite like it if he did that again, some time. Not necessarily now. Just some time.

What a shame, then, that she'd done her usual act of RUINING EVERYTHING. This was why she always ended up actually going out with dickheads, because they were the only ones who'd put up with her. She'd met a nice, single man who seemed to enjoy her company, and they'd had a lovely time at the restaurant for his birthday meal, they really had, but now thanks to her he was probably counting down the hours until this tour was over and he wouldn't have to see her again.

You should be glad he's such a gentleman, the suspiciously Elsa-sounding voice in her head had said (she hadn't actually told Elsa what had happened, she didn't have to tell her everything). Why would you want the kind of man who would take advantage?

And of course she didn't, but what she actually wanted was to go back in time and say goodnight to him at her hotel room door, and then not have spent the whole week wondering if she should text him or if he even wanted to talk to her, and today they had to drive all the way to Yorkshire together and she was driving and she was going to be late getting to his house because she had maybe been putting off leaving.

Kristoff didn't mention her tardiness, but he had clearly been waiting for her, and came straight out as soon as she parked on his drive. Anna just saw the briefest glimpse of his hallway and tried to forget a little daydream she'd had a couple of weeks ago concerning his house, and the potential layout of his bedroom. She was an author, she liked to think about people, that was all. Whether he had a brass bedframe or a wooden one was just idle speculation that no one should read anything into.


"This is the last time you'll have to put up with my driving, anyway," Anna said as she drove off. "Next week is the last one and it's your turn."

"I thought maybe we could take the train next week, since it's London," Kristoff said. "Won't be able to park and the traffic will probably be terrible. What do you think?"

"Could do."

"I mean, I'll drive if you want."

"No, no, you're right. The train will be easier."

"Last one next week, eh," he said. "This has actually gone quite quick. I wonder if it sold many books. To people who wouldn't have bought them anyway."

"Who knows. It's been fun, though."

"Has it? I think we've established that you and I have very different temperaments."

He wasn't looking at her, just watching the countryside slide by outside the window, and she couldn't tell how she was supposed to take that.

"Well, after next week you won't have to put up with me any more," she said.

"You're not that bad. I was thinking, actually..." he trailed off, tapping a finger on his knee.

"You were thinking what?"

"Nothing."

She couldn't look at his face, that was what was annoying. She had to watch the road, and he was still half-turned away.

"No, what?"

"Forget it. Doesn't matter."

Why did she always ruin everything.


Anna hadn't realised how much her enjoyment of the tour had been because of her companion. She'd enjoyed her other tours, but this one had been, well, fun. And now it was all awkward - or was it just her who felt awkward?

Kristoff let her choose where they ate, as usual, and she deliberately chose a restaurant she'd have to drive to so she couldn't drink. Which was probably overkill, but she'd never been good at moderation. I mean, she was fairly sure she could resist him, but she didn't trust herself not to say something embarrassing. Not that she needed alcohol to do that.


Kristoff's hotel room was next to hers, as usual. Outside their doors they hesitated, and Anna fumbled in her pocket for her key. Was she standing a bit too close? To step back would draw attention to it. She put her hand on the door handle. "Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning," she said. "Goodnight."

She was sure she saw his eyes flick to her lips before meeting her gaze again. "Goodnight," he said, and, stepping back, unlocked the door and went into his room.