But his plans had now changed. The adrenaline that had been dumped in his bloodstream when he’d recognised the slim woman walking up the aisle was still making him buzz, and, conscious of the fine tremor in his fingers, he pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his well-cut trousers. She had been sitting right in front of him and all he’d had to do was reach out and he could have touched her. He knew who she was now, she had a name, and this time she wouldn’t be able to vanish. Anticipation made him feel more alive than he had in …? With a frown he blocked the thought. He’d been given a second chance on life and admitting he was bored seemed terminally ungrateful. And in truth he wasn’t bored. The mystery woman who was no longer a mystery represented a challenge—unfinished business. Challenge, he decided, was the operative word. It wasn’t as if she had occupied his thoughts to the exclusion of everything else since their night together, but her unexpected reappearance had resurrected the frustration her vanishing act had inflicted two years earlier.
