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Alexander MacTire was sitting in a dark, intimate corner wearing a navy suit and a pink shirt that was open at the collar.

The colours suited him; he looked as if he’d put far more effort into dressing for the evening than I had.

I swallowed and walked towards him, feeling even more uncomfortable when he stood up to pull out my chair. ‘Kit,’ he murmured. ‘You came.’

‘I said that I would.’ Realising I might have sounded slightly defensive, I smiled to soften my words. ‘I like to keep my promises.’

‘Something that I already know about you.’ He kissed my cheek and his designer stubble brushed against my skin. We both sat down. ‘I trust you’ve not been for any more cold water dips lately?’ he went on.

I snorted. ‘I’ve been avoiding swimming sessions.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ His eyes danced and, not for the first time, I realised just how good looking he was. ‘I thought I’d wait before I ordered drinks. Would red wine suit you?’

‘Sure.’

‘They do a wonderful Tuscan merlot here if you like something full bodied. It has notes of fig and blackcurrant.’

‘Does the bottle have a pretty label?’ I asked.

MacTire blinked. ‘Huh?’

‘That’s how I judge my wines,’ I explained. ‘The aesthetic appeal of the label.’

His brow furrowed faintly then he flashed a white-toothed grin and managed a laugh. ‘I’m sure it’s a beautiful label.’ He raised a finger. In an instant, a waiter was by our side.

Unsurprisingly the wine was delicious, even though the label was shockingly ordinary. The food menu was confidently short and we both ordered a starter and main course. Once the waiter had gone, MacTire leaned back in his chair. ‘What have you been up to the last few days?’

‘I’ve been … busy.’ I pulled a face. ‘To be honest, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not been much fun and I’d like to have a few hours thinking about something else.’

He shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’

I eyed him. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘Paperwork, mostly. People seem to think it’s glamorous being head of a werewolf pack, but there’s a lot of bureaucracy and form-filling and not much adventure.’

‘You should do something about that.’

‘Perhaps I should. Nicholas is always telling me that I lead a very boring life.’

I smiled. He smiled. It was all very pleasant and polite.

I looked away and gazed at the other diners. There was an interesting collection of well-heeled people, and I wondered if Fetch Jackson had ever dined at Vallese. Probably: it seemed the sort of place he’d appreciate.

‘How are the cats?’ MacTire asked, when the starters arrived.

Between mouthfuls of a stuffed courgette flower I regaled him with a tale about He Who Crunches Bird Bones, who’d recently started trying to befriend one of the chubby ponies who lived in one of my neighbours’ gardens.

My cat had decided that the best way to win the little horse’s heart was to bring him gifts in the form of odd socks stolen from houses up and down the street.

MacTire pursed his mouth. ‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘Cute.’

Once the plates had been cleared away, he told me a complicated story involving money laundering and another werewolf pack.

I listened and nodded all the way through – most of the way through.

I lost concentration at one point when MacTire tried to explain the intricacies of lupine inheritance laws.

‘Hmm,’ I told him, displaying the full extent to which I cared.

He nodded. ‘Indeed.’

When the pasta arrived, MacTire forked a swirl of spaghetti and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. Finally he said, ‘It’s been nice weather lately. For January.’

I looked at him and he looked at me, then I burst out laughing. MacTire stared at me stony-faced before he also cracked a grin. ‘This isn’t working, is it?’

‘I like you,’ I said. ‘And you’re definitely the most handsome man I’ve ever met.’ MacTire nodded, accepting his due. ‘But it turns out that I’m not attracted to you at all.’

‘I like you too, Kit. You’re fun and clever and capable.’

I noted sardonically that he didn’t say I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

‘However, I have to say that this evening has proved that I’m not attracted to you either. The element of danger that you bring with you intrigued me enough to suggest otherwise but…’ He shrugged. ‘I was wrong. This isn’t meant to be.’

I felt a sense of overwhelming relief and raised my glass of wine. ‘I’ll drink to that.’ MacTire matched my action and we both took a long gulp.

The waiter suddenly reappeared. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your meal,’ he said, ‘but there’s a woman here who says she needs to talk to you, Ms McCafferty. I’m afraid she won’t take no for an answer.’

My eyes widened. Mallory. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said to MacTire. ‘I need to speak to her. I’ll step outside. It won’t take long – a minute or two at best.’

He waved a hand. ‘Bring her in here. I’ll go to the restroom and leave you to talk for a few moments. ’

I watched him go. Alexander MacTire was definitely a gentleman but he would never be my gentleman. And that was no bad thing.

‘Hey, Kit!’ Mallory arrived, slightly breathless and red-cheeked.

She sat down on the chair that MacTire had just vacated.

‘Sorry I’m late – it took longer than I thought to get the information you needed.

The witches’ council has been in disarray all day.

’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Something about one of their own getting arrested for murder, which I believe you know about?’

‘You’re well-informed.’

She smiled. ‘That’s my job. Anyway, I’ll knock a month off your waiting period because of the delay. If I don’t come to you for the return favour within the next eleven months, you are released from further obligations. Is that okay with you?’

More than okay. Mallory was little more than an hour late and, frankly, her interruption had been welcome. ‘Sure.’

She grabbed a hunk of crusty bread from the basket and started ripping at it with her teeth.

‘So,’ she said, getting down to business.

‘You wanted to know what was top of the council agenda this week. Despite the spanner in the works with the arrest, there’s only one topic that has been consuming the witches.

’ She swallowed a mouthful. ‘This is great bread.’ She took a swig from MacTire’s glass.

‘Good wine, too,’ she commented. ‘A Tuscan merlot?’

‘So I’ve been told.’

She smacked her lips. ‘Tasty. Very full-bodied. I like the notes of fig.’

‘The council?’ I prompted. I didn’t give two figs about the wine – or any figs, for that matter.

‘Oh yes. They’re preoccupied with silphium.’

I frowned. What?

‘In fact, the witch who’s been arrested for murder – Fetch Daniel Jackson? – had been tasked with retrieving it. Interesting, wouldn’t you say?’

‘What the hell is silphium?’

A shadow fell between us: Alexander MacTire was back. ‘Silphium is the most desirable, most potent, most magical herb that has ever existed,’ he offered.

Mallory waved up at him. ‘What he said.’

‘It’s also been extinct for the last two thousand years,’ he added.

She winked. ‘Supposedly. Although perhaps “dormant” would be a better word. Whatever, it’s priceless. If it existed today, Preternaturals would kill not just for its power but for the money a tiny silphium cutting could potentially command.’

‘Kill for it?’ I asked through gritted teeth.

‘Oh yes, I’m quite certain,’ Mallory said. ‘Rivers of blood would run through the streets of Coldstream if somebody possessed silphium.’ She took another sip of the wine and leaned back in MacTire’s chair. ‘This really is an exquisite merlot.’

I only stared.