She reached her hand behind her back and grabbed his. She could just as easily have gripped another part of him because she wasn’t looking. She was wearing gloves, the thin kind, but he wasn’t. He had forgotten to bring them, and it wasn’t cold. Even if it had been, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Inside him, it was like a sunny summer’s day on a Cornish beach – complete with a light breeze that ensured it wasn’t too lovely. He worried that she didn’t realise she was holding his hand. She probably didn’t want to hold anybody’s hand and particularly not his.