Simon was … well, scared probably wasn't too strong a term for it. Terrified might be better. Saffron had him pinned against the panelling in one of the rooms upstairs. “No, really, thank you for the offer, but … you’re not my type,” he insisted as she leaned into him.

She smiled. “I’m sure I could be.”

“No, really.”

“But that’s what we’re here for,” she said. “To have fun.”

“But not yet.” Simon squeezed out and stood by the open doorway. “That’s not until this evening, is it?”

“We could always –“

“No!” His voice sounded loud even to his own ears.

Saffron pouted. “Ah well.” She looked at him. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?”

“I … don’t think so,” Simon managed to say. “I’ve not been off Londinium until just a short while ago.”

“But you seem so familiar.” She moved closer and stroked his thigh.

“Thank you, but I’m still not interested.”

“Why not?” she asked. “You came and started talking to me.”

“No. To your husband, actually.” Simon felt the treacherous tide creep up his neck again.

“My …” Saffron almost laughed out loud. “You’re sly?”

“I … please don’t say anything.”

“But you’re married!”

“And I love my wife. But sometimes I …” The blush had reached his cheeks.

“You like to indulge that part of you?”

“Yes.”

Saffron nodded wisely. At least she knew now it wasn’t anything to do with her. “Then, would you mind telling my husband that I’d like to see him up here?” she asked, giving him some space.

“No, of course.” He stepped back hurriedly, aware he was being ungentlemanly but doing it nevertheless.

“Thank you.” She smiled and reached out to touch his cheek. “And remember when the time comes. For the pairing. I‘m sure we can find something for all of us to do.”

Simon gave a little bow. “Of course.” He almost ran down the stairs.

Saffron laughed. So young, and so very inexperienced. If she wasn’t actually working, it would be fun to make him fall in love with her. Ah well, better get to work..

---

“Anything?