Hana sat in her office after everyone left and waited for Angus. She heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of him in the doorway just after three thirty. “You’re leaving early because of me, aren’t you?” she said, guilt in her voice.
Angus raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter, Hana?”
She shrugged and picked up her handbag, locking the office door behind her.
“What’s that smell?” Angus asked in the common room, puckering up his Scots nose in disgust.
“A bad biryani apparently,” she replied.
Angus drove her to his apartment and opened his garage, handing her the keys to her car. “We moved it earlier today,” he said, watching her with interest. “Your friend Cilla had quite a lot to say on the subject of our Mr Du Rose. If you’re having a relationship with him, Hana, there’s only so much I c
