“I thought Isabelle was going to let you sleep,’ Sylvain said. The way he said it made it seem oddly intimate – like he was somehow involved with her sleep.

Allie blushed.

‘Zoe …’ she said, trying to recover her cool. ‘She was my alarm clock.’

The way he arched one amused eyebrow made her think he knew why she’d blushed.

‘If someone was going to wake you up,’ he said, ‘I’d rather it was me.”