He said it indulgently. She turned to him, mischief dancing in her lovely brown eyes.

“You promise, Master St Just?” She asked and he grinned. She looked at him for a while and said,

“I want to go and have an ice cream. I’ll do your work for you but that’s going to be my payment.”

He studied her, this impish young woman, with her head of long brown hair and her plump lips, parted as she waited expectantly for him to reply.

All she wanted was a fcking ice ...