"Hi, hello, excuse me, can you see a placecard that says Anna? Anna Rendell? Oh, I'm next to you! Hi!"

The redhead dropped down into the seat and beamed at him. "Hello - Kristoff," she read off his card. She looked him up and down, taking in his loosened cravat and waistcoat. "You're an usher, so you must be a friend of Tim's."

"Yeah, that's right. We play rugby together. And you?"

"I work with Alison. It's a bit annoying actually, I think I'm the only person she invited from work for the whole day, I think some more people are coming later? But I don't really know anyone here except Alison, and you know, she's the bride, so she's kind of busy."

"But you're here with - your boyfriend?"

She pulled a face. "Way back months ago when I RSVP'd I thought I'd need a plus one, but yeah, we broke up about a fortnight after that." She took the placecard from the setting next to her and turned it face down on the tablecloth. "Then my sister was going to come with me but she's not feeling well. Do you think they'll still bring his food? Maybe I'll get two desserts."

"I - have no idea."

"Are you here with anybody?"

"No."

"No friends or anything, girlfriend?"

"No. Same as you, I guess - the rest of the team are coming this evening but I'm the only one here the whole day."

Anna smiled at him. "We must be special."

"I suppose so."

He was easy to talk to. Not that she normally had much problem talking to people, but Kristoff was especially fun. He made a muttered sarcastic comment during one of the speeches and she had to pretend to knock her napkin on the floor to cover her snorts of laughter. And even better, a few minutes later he undid his cuffs and rolled up his shirt sleeves. She'd always been partial to a nice pair of arms and she found herself evaluating the rest of him. Not bad at all.

Not that she was here to look for a man - although she was starting to wonder who'd drawn up this seating plan. He was funny and hot and single and she knew Alison thought it was time she found someone new. And he seemed to like her, leaning in slightly closer than necessary to talk to her, looking pleased when she laughed, ignoring the woman on his other side pretty much completely (although she had a boyfriend with her and didn't seem to care).

Maybe she would give him her phone number. You know, if he asked.

After the speeches the rest of the rugby team arrived en masse and Kristoff disappeared into a crowd of back-slapping. Anna's colleagues arrived one by one and she had to recount the ceremony and the meal six times.

Through the evening she caught a few glimpses of him, and they exchanged smiles whenever their eyes met. Every time she tried to talk to him though he was busy with someone else.

Eventually she got fed up. He had just put down his drink so she marched up to him, said brightly "Excuse me, can I borrow you for a minute?" and pulled him away by the arm and into the garden.

He let himself be dragged along, across the patio and onto the lawn. It was a cool night and most people were inside. In the shade of the rhododendrons, a little away from the large windows of the hotel ballroom, she released his arm. "Sorry. I just wanted to talk to you again. And, you know."

"I know," he said. He folded his arms and looked her up and down. "I like a woman who knows what she wants."

"What do you want?" she said.

He looked her up and down again, more slowly this time. She could feel his gaze raking over her and she shivered under it, biting her lip. Without a word he stepped forward and reached out to cup the back of her head with one hand.

He kissed her - slowly at first, but there was nothing tentative about it - his lips were firm and warm and she automatically swayed against him, putting her hands first on his chest and then round his neck. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and held her close, and she tangled her fingers in his hair as she pressed her lips, her whole body against his.

This is not why you're here, said a little voice in her head (as she opened her mouth to curl her tongue against his, as he slid his hand up her side to brush against her breast). You never do this kind of thing. Put him DOWN.

Oh, but where was the harm? Other people did things like this all the time. He was her colleague's husband's friend, so she'd never have to see him again; and he had kissed her, so he was definitely interested. He was a good kisser, too.

She broke the kiss to speak and instead of pulling away he kissed across her jaw, down her neck. She sighed and let her eyes drift shut again for a moment, before putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him gently back.

They were both breathing hard and she held his gaze for a long moment. "Um," she finally said, "do you have - a room here? Tonight?"

"Yes," he said, "But. Fuck. I'm sharing it with a couple of people."

"I have a room. Um. Number thirty-six? Meet me there?"

"When?"

Anna glanced at her watch. "It's eleven now. I should say goodnight to some people. Half past?"

"Okay," he said. "Half-eleven. Number thirty-six."

He pulled her back in for one more searing kiss. She couldn't help but melt into his arms and when he released her she wobbled back onto her heels. Then he was gone, loping back across the garden towards the hotel ballroom.

By about twenty-five past eleven Anna had said goodnight to her colleagues and gone back to her room. She was definitely feeling nervous now, and perhaps a bit stupid - what if he didn't come? Oh god, what if right now he was in the bar laughing with his friends about how easy and desperate she was.

There was a tentative tap at the door. Anna took a deep breath and opened it, and Kristoff was standing there, looking as nervous as she felt. She stepped back to let him in and he walked past her, into the room. She shut the door quickly, and couldn't stop herself from checking that there was no one else in the corridor.

Kristoff was standing just inside the room, looking awkward.

"Um," she said. "I had, you know. A condom. In my toiletry bag, I guess from the last time I went away with my ex, but it's still in date and everything, so. Um."

He nodded, and hesitated for a moment before sitting on the side of the bed and pulling off his shoes. Then he looked up at her, still standing there anxiously, and said "If you've changed your mind -"

"No! No. I'm good, I just - I'm good." She kicked off her heels and sat on the bed next to him.

He cupped the back of her head again with his hand and oh god, the intensity in his eyes was so sexy. His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips and then he kissed her and, okay, yes, this was a good idea. Kissing him standing up in the garden had been one thing but kissing him sitting on the bed was quite another, and there were butterflies in her stomach but that just made it all the more exciting.

He was running his hand up her leg now, hesitating briefly before sliding it under the skirt of her dress. When he reached the bare skin above her hold-ups he groaned and leant right into her, pushing her down, and she wriggled away and up the bed, lying back against the pillows. He followed her as if on invisible strings, fumbling off his cravat and waistcoat and throwing them aside.

She ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders - god, she loved rugby players' shoulders - pulling him down to kiss her. He tried to slide her dress off her shoulders and she pushed him away next to her for a moment to unzip it at the side and pull it off over her head.

He looked across at her, in just her bra and knickers and stockings, and exhaled shakily. "God, Anna." She expected him to be all over her but instead he ran a hand slowly down her arm, looking at her as if he couldn't believe his luck. She started to unbutton his shirt, hesitantly, and he kissed her lips and her jaw, pulling his shirt off over his head before she was halfway done, then returning to kiss her neck, her collarbone.

She rolled onto her back, pulling him with her, their legs tangled together. She could feel him hard against her thigh and her stomach swooped like a sudden drop - they were doing this, this was happening - but the thought was pushed away by his mouth at her breast, sucking at the skin. She unhooked her bra with one hand and shrugged it off so that he could continue down, running his tongue over one nipple as he pinched the other between finger and thumb. She moaned and, encouraged, he sucked hard on her nipple, hooking his thumb in the waistband of her knickers as she bucked her hips against him.

She pulled him up to kiss her again, her bare chest against his, warm skin sliding together deliciously. She ran her hands down to undo his fly and then slipped one hand inside his trousers and over the front of his boxers, running it over his hardened length as he groaned into her mouth.

He knelt up to push down his trousers and his underwear, and she wriggled out of her knickers as he stripped off the remainder of his clothes. She moved to take off her stockings but he put his hand on hers to stop her, kissing her hard as he slid his hand round and between her legs, making her moan again as his fingers stroked over her centre.

Then suddenly he was gone. She was surprised before seeing that he was getting the condom from the bedside table, and a few moments and a muffled swearword later he was kneeling between her legs.

She gripped his shoulders as he thrust inside her, inch by inch, and wow, this wasn't just a good idea, this was possibly the best idea she'd ever had. This was amazing. This was everything she hadn't realised she needed. This was -

And then she couldn't finish her thought, as he thrust deep inside her, pushing her over the edge; and she cried out his name, clinging to him, head thrown back and spine arched.

A door slammed somewhere and Kristoff jerked awake. He peered at the dark room for a moment before remembering that that was right, he was staying at a hotel because it was Tim's wedding - and then he realised that instead of the room being full of snoring rugby players, his only companion was a sleeping young woman who was a) completely beautiful and b) completely naked.

This was not like him, it was not like him at all. He'd had girlfriends but he'd never done the one-night thing. He hadn't drunk that much - what on earth had got into him?

The woman (Anna, her name was Anna) muttered something in her sleep and turned over. He needed to get back to his own room, although it was probably too late to hope that no one had missed him.

Quietly, he slid out from under the covers and found his clothes. As he was buttoning his shirt he realised that Anna was awake and watching him.

"I should go back to my room," he explained, feeling awful.

She nodded, biting her lip. Should he ask for her phone number? Did people do that? Would she be more offended if he didn't ask or if he did?

Mainly he just wanted to kiss her again, but she curled up under the covers and shut her eyes as he was putting on his shoes and in the end he left without another word, letting the door click shut behind him.

She wasn't at breakfast. He didn't know if she'd already checked out or if she was still asleep. Or if she'd seen him coming and run away.

His roommates had made a few ribald comments about where he'd disappeared to and then spent the rest of the morning, and the drive back into town, complaining about their hangovers. Apparently after he'd left to find Anna the drinking had really got underway and he was glad he'd missed it.

Why hadn't he asked for her number? He was a fucking idiot. And he couldn't get it from someone else because that would be creepy. He supposed he could ask Tim to ask Alison to ask Anna if he could have her number, but that was pretty convoluted and he'd have to wait two weeks for them to get back from their honeymoon.

He knew her full name and where she worked, could he call her there? Was that creepy behaviour? He had no idea.

Fuck.

All week he went back and forth - of course he could ring her, he'd slept with her, one phone call was fine. And if she didn't want him to contact her again then he wouldn't. It was perfectly reasonable. Then as soon as he picked up the phone he felt that calling her at work was really inappropriate and would make her uncomfortable and he shouldn't do it.

The next Saturday they had a rugby match. There was the usual handful of supporters, and off to one side, he was sure he could see a young woman with red hair.

By the time he was showered and changed and was back outside he couldn't see Anna anywhere. As he walked down the street to where he'd parked his car, though, he saw her ahead of him, and called her name. She stopped, and turned, and smiled, and he felt a lurch in his chest. In jeans and a cardigan she somehow looked even prettier than in a cocktail dress, or maybe it was just because he was so glad to see her again.

He jogged a few yards to catch up with her.

"Sorry," she said, "I was waiting for you but then I felt a bit stalker-y? But I didn't know how else to find you. And I wanted to see you again."

"I was going to call your work," he said, "But it felt a bit - stalker-y. So I'm glad you're here."

She smiled. "So I guess it cancels out. The stalkeriness."

"Yeah."

She tucked her hair behind her ear. "So what were you going to say? When you phoned."

"Well - to be honest, I was going to ask you out."

"Go on, then." She was still smiling. Something told him his chances were good.

"Okay, it was going to go something like this." He cleared his throat. "Anna."

"Yes."

"It's Kristoff. We met at Tim and Alison's wedding last week?"

"Oh yes, I think I remember."

"And I was wondering - if you're not too busy - if I could take you out for dinner some time."

He had thought she was smiling before, but now she was beaming. "That would be nice."