You've all been so kind I didn't want to keep you waiting too long …

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Chapter 3

She took her time with the dishes, wanting to regain her equilibrium before she joined him in the living room. He was sprawled on the sofa watching an unfamiliar sitcom, his stocking feet up on the coffee table, his hands behind his head, the picture of relaxation. His shirt had worked loose from the waistband of his trousers revealing a glimpse of belly, and it was all she could do not to straddle him there and then. He looked up with a cheerful smile, patting the sofa next to him, and she realised there was nowhere else to sit.

"Plenty of room, Bols. There were a couple of chairs but the wife took 'em when she left."

She perched awkwardly next to him, surprised to see that the room was fairly tidy despite being in need of a lick of paint. Clearly he was more domesticated than he cared to admit.

"Whiskey, luv?"

She nodded, wondering if it was a good idea but suddenly not caring. He poured a decent measure into a waiting glass and held it out to her, and their fingers touched briefly, sending something akin to an electric shock up her arm. What was it about this man that had such an effect on her? His lifestyle left a lot to be desired, he was several pounds overweight and yet the sheer animal magnetism, the masculinity oozing from every pore made her knees go weak. Add to that intelligence, a quick wit and a dry sense of humour and it was a lethal combination. She suspected that underneath that tough Northern exterior lurked a damaged, lonely individual, and that just made him even harder to resist.

"So. Remembered anything else, Alex?"

He spoke her name slowly, as though trying it out for size, and his deep gravelly voice sent a shiver down her spine. Her gaze was drawn to his long elegant fingers as he toyed with his glass, and the colour rose in her face as she imagined them wandering over her body. Recollecting herself, she cleared her throat.

"No, not really. Just that I don't feel I belong here, if that makes any sense. Nothing seems remotely familiar, not just the place but the time, somehow. Even these clothes seem all wrong. Sounds crazy, I know …"

He snorted.

"Not as much as yer might think. Wait till yer meet Sam, you two should get on like a house on fire."

Her head swivelled round, her gaze fixed on his face.

"Sam Tyler?"

He blinked at her in surprise.

"Yer already know him, then?"

She shook her head as if trying to clear it.

"No. But his name's familiar, just like yours was. I don't understand it, Gene."

"Don't worry, Bols. Give it time, I'm sure it'll all come back to yer."

She smiled weakly at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance, and then stifled a yawn.

"Sorry. Think it's time for me to call it a day, I'm shattered. Thanks for putting me up, Gene, I'm not sure what I'd have done otherwise."

"Don't mention it, luv. Sleep well."

After she'd gone, he poured himself another whiskey and sat back, mulling over the events of the day. He'd never been able to resist a damsel in distress, and what a damsel: feisty, intelligent and sexy as hell. And way out of his league, he thought, although he didn't think he'd imagined the heat between them. Life had just become rather interesting.

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Alex woke in a tangle of sheets and sat up, wide eyed and disorientated, trying to remember the details of the dream. A file with a photograph … the squeal of brakes … and then nothing. Her mouth was dry and she cursed under her breath, realising she'd forgotten to bring any water to bed with her. Creeping quietly down the stairs she tiptoed past the living room and headed into the kitchen, taking a glass tentatively from the cupboard. The tap squeaked as she turned it on and she winced before drinking thirstily, pausing to gaze unseeing out of the window into the grey dawn.

"Bols?"

The glass clattered into the sink and she spun round clutching her chest.

"Jesus, Gene! You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He seemed to fill the doorway, his arms crossed, his hair mussed, a bathrobe tied loosely at his waist. She was surprisingly affected by the sight of his bare feet, and very conscious of the expanse of smooth naked chest on display. She swallowed hard, a wave of desire running through her as he looked her up and down, a lazy smirk playing round his lips. She'd helped herself to one of his shirts, finding the smell of him comforting, and she felt suddenly exposed as his gaze settled on the vast expanse of leg she was revealing.

"I needed something to sleep in, I hope you don't mind …"

He pursed his lips and whistled quietly, nodding his approval.

"Looks a damn sight better on you than it ever did on me. Fancy a brew?"

Picking up the kettle he moved towards the sink and she stepped to one side, perching awkwardly on the edge of the table.

"Sorry I woke you."

"Wasn't really asleep. Seems yer were right about that sofa."

She sighed guiltily.

"I feel really bad about kicking you out of your room. Maybe we could share the bed … "

She tailed off lamely as he turned to face her, one eyebrow raised mockingly.

"Somehow, I don' think either of us would get much kip, do you?"

Without warning he leaned in until their faces were only inches apart and for a split second she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he reached behind her for the sugar bowl. She thought she detected the glimmer of a smile and knew he'd done it on purpose, sliding onto the nearest chair as she waited for her heart rate to return to something approaching normal.

He placed a steaming mug of tea in front of her and seated himself opposite, and for a while neither of them spoke. Eventually she broke the silence, a slight tremor in her voice.

"What am I doing here, Gene? I can't make any sense of it."

"I don't know, luv. Give it time, eh? I'm sure it'll all come back ter yer eventually."

His tone was kind, reassuring and she felt a rush of gratitude and something more. Affection, maybe?

"My knight in shining armour. I don't know what I'd have done without you, Gene. I can't thank you enough."

She smiled at him and he looked away, embarrassed.

"It's no bother. Stay as long as yer like, I'll get the spare room cleared out so you can have yer own space."

She'd been right about him all along. There was a soft centre lurking under that gruff exterior.

"You ... are a nice man, Gene Hunt."

He met her gaze again, his eyes gleaming silver in the early morning light.

"Glad yer think so, Bols. But if yer tell anyone else I might 'ave ter stamp on yer pretty little head."

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As an occasional insomniac, Gene is more than welcome to make me a brew in the early hours. Well worth losing a few hours shut eye for!

Hope you're still enjoying. More very soon.