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Matthew, however, went to great lengths to assure her she would find the strange-looking morsels delicious, eliciting the giggling support of the two maids, prodding and teasing until finally, she tasted a pink chunk of raw tuna. She didn’t hate it. She didn’t love it, but sitting across the table from Matthew, watching him manipulate the chopsticks with a surgeon’s ease, noting the zeal with which he ate and the obvious pleasure he derived from the experience, he probably could have suggested live eels and she would have complied. Jinx could feel herself falling in love. It was an odd sensation, but one that was hauntingly familiar. Long ago – in another lifetime, it seemed – she had experienced similar sensations. She had blushed whenever Kip had caught her eye. Her insides had rollercoastered when, by chance, Kip’s hand had touched hers. She had stuttered and stammered and swallowed each time they had been alone and she had tried to speak.