"Yes, ma'am," says Keys, wincing a little at the way his voice gives, a combination of her hand on his thigh and the accidental glimpse down her shirt he gets as she sits up.

"That smells delicious," he says, bringing the bottle and the glasses over to the table, pouring a little more wine for each of them. Before he sits down, he peels off his jumper, t-shirt tugging up to reveal a strip of pale skin. "I've been living off microwave stuff. I still need to.get my kitchen properly set up."