" I can't sleep," she said in her best guilt-inducing voice. "Tell me a bedtime story." Then seeing the frustration and urgency on my face: "Please? J...st a little one and then I can go to sleep." Mmmmm," I grumbled. "OK. Shove over." She knows I'm a sucker for story-telling and she's not above manipulating me to entertain her. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. She rolled away from me, facing the wall, and I slipped into bed behind her, reaching around under her armpit to cup one large,. All I saw now was those beautiful, mischievous eyes of hers. ‘…this place where the air is filled with the smell of red wine, there are candles everywhere, and the things they serve, Jesus you just have to try it to believe me, but it makes me want to tear off my clothes, run into the kitchen and serve myself to the chef.’ ‘Jenny! How much did you have to drink on that plane?’ ‘Yeah, I’m a little tipsy. So?’ ‘Well, I mean…’ I didn’t get any further, until I realised that I was talking into her. More

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