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I swing my legs off the bed and get up, stretching like a cat. I can’t hold back a smug smile of satisfaction when I notice Callum’s eyes roving over every inch of me and lingering in all the right places.

“Like what you see, sugar?” I ask him, striking a pose with my hand on my hip.

He moves closer and yanks me into his arms with enough force that I squeak. Meanwhile, my cock gets all kinds of naughty ideas and starts to plump right up.

I stroke the firm muscles of his chest and try not to purr louder than Poirot. But it’s mighty hard.

“You know I do,” he rumbles, leaning in to nuzzle my neck. His morning chin stubble gives me goose bumps all over. “You’re pure bloody temptation, you are.”

I grin, unrepentant. “Right back at you, darlin’.”

Not one to waste a valuable opportunity, I squeeze one of his delicious biceps.

“Whew, I just knew I was gonna like what you were hiding underneath those clothes of yours. You, Mr. Former Detective Inspector of the London Met, have kept in shape since leaving the force.”

I note the embers of lust burning in his eyes, and I’m more than inclined to stoke it into a blazing fire.

But alas, he pulls away, twirls me around, and slaps me on my bare ass.

“Get that cute arse in the shower. We’re meeting Liz in an hour and it’s going to take us a wee bit to get to the Archive. We need to be cleaned up and on our way soon.”

I glance down and arch an eyebrow at his semi, then shake my head with mock sadness. “It’s a cryin’ shame we don’t have time for me to take care of that.”

His cheeks flush and a smirk crosses his lips. “Christ, you’re trouble,” he growls, and I chuckle as I saunter toward his bathroom with an exaggerated swish of my hips.

“Darlin’, I’m the kind of trouble a man like you prays he’ll find.”

I soon realize why he doesn’t join me, though.

His bathroom is itty-bitty, and I end up knocking my elbows a lot in the confined shower stall, but I get squeaky clean with only a few extra bruises by the end of it all. Afterward, I pull on my clothes from our date last night, which may not be the most ideal option for day wear, but beggars can’t be choosers, now can they?

I think tonight I’ll work on convincing Callum to come back to the B&B with me. We should take turns hosting one another at each other’s places, like any proper courtship in my book but also since I prepaid for my accommodations and adore Miz Edna. Now I have an additional incentive, namely the fact that my bathroom has a nice big tub we could both fit in.

Besides, I think Miz Edna would be tickled pink if I brought him back with me.

Although I suppose we still have the complication of Alistair haunting the place. I don’t know all of Callum’s preferences in the bedroom just yet, but I’d bet money he isn’t one for having others watch him being intimate with someone—especially if that person’s a ghost. The last thing I need is for Alistair to decide to show up at the worst possible moment. Sweet lord, I just got him to give me a chance, I don’t have any intentions of messing that up. A ghost is not going to cockblock me, pardon my French.

But I’ll have to keep a careful watch on things, just to be safe.

In short order, Callum feeds Monsieur Poirot and we leave his flat, grabbing what the menu calls sausage rolls and coffee at a little kiosk outside the London Underground station. I have to admit, they’re better than I was anticipating from the look of them, and I gobble mine down fast. After all, we had ourselves a passionate night of lovemaking and weren’t able to even have a slice of toast this morning. I’m famished.

After our first round last night, we ended up making out for quite a while until we were ready for round two, which involved mutual blowjobs. After that, we ended up passing out with smiles on our faces. I don’t remember what time it even was, but all those bedroom exertions have left me hungry as all get-out this morning.

I’m still sipping the last of my coffee while we stand outside the London Archives waiting on Liz. At ten, right on the dot, she comes striding toward us, dressed in crisp dress pants, a button-down shirt with a blazer jacket, and a trench coat.

Talk about iconic detective wear! She’s giving Helen Mirren in Prime Suspect vibes.

The sky’s dark and foreboding today, and my weather app indicates storms are brewing. Rain’s nothing new to me, we get our fair share back home, but what I’m still really hoping for is a quintessential London experience, with a thick fog descending on the city so we can make our way through what they used to call a pea souper.

I always enjoyed that particular description.

Liz gives me a nod and a smile, her expression turning serious as she focuses on Callum. “I’ve arranged for us to have access to the fire investigation case files, and I’ve got a few hours I can spend helping you sort through it all.”

A wave of relief washes over Callum’s face. “Ta, Liz. This is a huge help.” He frowns. “This isn’t going to cause any problems for you, is it?”

She favors him with a wry smile. “I have plenty of leave due. Taking a half day isn’t a problem.”

I smile at her. “We’re mighty thankful that you were able to look into this case so quickly, Miz Elizabeth.”