They had danced around the idea for a little while, and Ric was aware of her increasing closeness, the smell of her perfume as she leant across him to fill her glass. She was tempting him, deliberately, baiting him with her eyes, the casual touches of his knee, the view she was giving him of her gorgeous legs in that skirt. Would he? He had always found her extremely difficult to resist. There was that seductive tone to her voice, something he hadn't heard from her in a long time. He was surprised she hadn't been more overt in her advances, but maybe this was a sign of the new Connie Beauchamp. A little insecure perhaps these days, trying to goad him into taking the lead. Well if that was what she wanted, he was happy to oblige.

"Stand up Mrs Beauchamp." He said eventually, placing his glass on the coffee table.

She paused for a second, clearly startled by his suddenly authoritative tone, but she did as she was told, and allowed him to turn her to face the window. Their reflections were clear in the glass, highlighted by the darkness outside. She was more beautiful than ever now that her features had softened, and with her long hair framing her face. He tucked a tress behind her ear to give him access to her bare neck, and began to whisper against her pale skin.

"On your first day here…. You were having a little trouble with some buttons, I seem to remember."

Connie shivered as his lips grazed her sensitive skin and she swayed slightly against him. She felt the warmth of the alcohol and the anticipation of pleasure wash over her.

Pulling her close, he popped open the buttons of her blouse and slipped his hand inside, his thumb brushing lightly against her warm, flat stomach.

"Ric..." She murmured.

"Shhh. Not now Mrs Beauchamp."

…

Jasmine Burrows stood open-mouthed in the doorway of her boss's office, staring at the sight before her. Mr Griffin was lying fast asleep on the sofa under a blue hospital blanket, with a woman she didn't recognise tucked against him so close that it looked like they had melted into each other.

She panicked and closed the door as fast as possible, praying that the click of the lock hadn't woken them. Turning back to the ward, she went in search of someone to tell before it burst out of her.

…

Connie woke with a start, which she regretted when her head exploded with the penetrating pain of her hangover.

"Oh god." She mumbled involuntarily when she caught sight of the clock through bleary eyes. Ric moved next to her and tightened his grip around her waist as she began to slide dangerously off the edge of the cushions.

"I've got to go. My shift starts in 20 minutes." She said, releasing herself from his grip, taking the warm blanket with her, much to his chagrin.

"Can you give that back when you've got dressed? I think I'm just going to stay exactly where I am until I die." Ric stated humourlessly, clearly suffering along with her.

She slipped quickly back into her clothes, noticing that her muscles ached. Ideally she would benefit from another night's sleep in a proper bed after that, but she didn't have the luxury. She ignored Ric's request and folded the blanket neatly.

"You need to get up before one of the cleaners comes in and files a complaint for gross indecency."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly at the suggestion that his naked body could be the cause of any complaint and she grinned, blushing slightly as she remembered the things he had done to her the night before.

"Goodbye Ric." She said as she reached for the door handle.

"Wait, Connie, can we… Can I see you again?" He asked, half expecting her to mock him, but still wanting to say it.

She paused, her expression not giving anything away. "Maybe." She replied finally, before turning to leave.

Ric watched her go, hardly daring to hope that this might be something. After everything he'd told himself about not wanting a woman in his life... This was different, it was Connie. He would always want Connie.