They had training that morning but Matt’s heart wasn’t in it. He was too hungover and stressed with everything that had happened. And even more stressed about what he had to do: apologise to the girl.

After arriving back at the hotel and showering he looked out for her but couldn’t see her. He couldn’t ask anyone where she was since that would only create greater complications.

He was supposed to be having lunch with the rest of the team but he wanted to clear his head. His preferred method for doing this was to go for a walk, so he set off through the nature park behind the hotel.

Being surrounded by nature in the cooler shade of palms and other tropical plants was soothing and by the time he reached a clearing he was much calmer than he had been all day.

Until, of course, he saw the girl again. Cara. She was sitting on a bench by herself, reading. Didn’t she have any friends? Was she here alone?

It was now or never, and he owed her some kind of explanation, so he went over to her and sat down next to her.

"I wanted to apologise for earlier." He didn’t have any excuses, not ones that she would understand anyway, so he didn’t offer any. "I was rude. I had no reason to be."

He wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting but it wasn’t this, a shy and grateful smile, and it made his heart turn over despite himself.

"I didn’t realise who you were," she said. "Until breakfast when someone pointed you out."

There was an awkward silence again. They were both aware that he wasn’t free to do what he had done, he had known all along and now Cara knew. He had led her on, if anything. She had hardly led him on. What an idiot he had been to even suspect her.

"I’m sorry about the reporter thing," he told her. "That stuff tends to happen, and I was on edge." He knew as he spoke how ridiculous it had been. If she had been aiming at a kiss-and-tell, or some kind of honey-trap, she would hardly have turned him down the previous night.

Why had she turned him down? Matt wasn’t used to being turned down, and if he was going to be honest with himself it had partly added to his frustrations.

But looking at her it was obvious why. She was younger than he had first imagined and was clearly not the kind of jaded, groupie type who usually hung around sports teams.

"I promise you I’m nothing do to with newspapers or anything. I’m a student," she said.

She didn’t owe him any promise and he felt bad that he had put her in a position where she felt the need to reassure him. She had such honest eyes as well. They showed every emotion, which was why he could tell how much he had hurt and embarrassed her.

But Matt found himself looking from her eyes to her lips. They were full, sensuous and slightly parted. Before he knew what he was doing he was running his hand down the side of her face, cupping her jaw, gently tilting her head up to meet his lips as they came down on hers.

This time this kiss hit him like a shockwave. It was like being back at school again, she reminded him of the first girl he’d ever kissed. The thrill, the excitement, the innocence.

His other arm went around her, drawing her closer to him.

She was such a relief, such an escape. So different to everything else in his life. He felt free of everything with her, even though she was actually complicating things even more than before.

Cara felt like she was drowning as Matt kissed her. Her stomach was flipping over, and she thrilled in the warmth of him and the taste of him.

He’s doing this by choice, she thought. He’s sober. He’s deliberately kissing me. But why, if he had been so angry about it before?

She relaxed into his embrace as they explored one another, drinking one another in. Her arms went around his neck and she once again felt his hair, dry this time, and his sun-warmed skin.

Matt Curran, England cricket captain, was kissing her. It was the strangest and most wonderful thing in the world. She should have felt guilty - after all he had a girlfriend - but right now it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Everyone else, everything, was so far away.

He broke off the kiss but still held her, and was gazing into her eyes.

"This is wrong and very unfair on you," he said. "I’m not a free agent."

"I know."

"You make me wish I was," he told her. Though it wasn’t just this girl that made him wish he was single again, he had been growing tired of the complications in his life for some time.

"If all we have is now, is that enough for you?" he asked.

What was he asking her? Was he asking her to have a holiday fling with him?

Two days ago Cara would have been shocked at herself for even considering it, but now she couldn’t even bring herself to not consider it.

"It’s enough."

"I don’t want to lead you on, create expectations," Matt said.

Cara smiled at him. "I wasn’t expecting any of this anyway." When she went home it would probably seem like a dream. No one would believe her even if she did tell them. Girls like her didn’t date international sports stars, after all. That was the domain of pop stars and glamour models.

"I want to see you tonight. Take you out. But we’ll have to be discreet," he said.

The thickness in his voice, the urgency, made her stomach flip all over again.

"Won’t you get recognised?" she asked him.

"Perhaps. But if we go somewhere there are only locals, not tourists, it should be safe enough."

Cara had no idea how they were going to leave the hotel together without anyone seeing. "Will your team mates know?"

"If they do, they won’t say anything." He was about to say "what goes on tour…" but stopped himself as it sounded sleazy and as though he did this kind of thing all the time. In fact he had been faithful to Miggy since they’d started dating, even though he could never be quite sure of the same loyalty on her side.

Why me? Cara wanted to say. Why was he taking this huge risk to spend an evening with her? If it was something he did all the time, why had he been so paranoid about her being a reporter?

And what would his expectations be? She suddenly felt nervous. Did he just want dinner, and maybe a kiss goodnight? Or would she be expected to offer up more? And what was she comfortable with?

He saw the conflicted emotions across her face. "If you change your mind, it’s OK. I don’t want to complicate things for you. I just really want to be with you. And even though this sounds like the oldest line in the book, this honestly isn’t something I do regularly. At all, in fact."

She had guessed that already but it was reassuring to hear him say it.

"So I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby at seven? I have some things to take care of with the team this afternoon, so I need to get back."

Before he went he kissed her again and she could feel the heat between them.

As he walked back she watched him, noting how athletic he was with his broad shoulders and muscular legs. Once again she marvelled that she had met him in this way. It felt quite surreal.

For the rest of the afternoon Cara tried to block out her whirling thoughts with study. Principles of Biochemistry was a mental cold shower at the best of times, and forcing herself to focus on its contents was as effective as anything at forcing the image of Matt from her mind.

She was trying to think only about details, about the short term. She didn’t want to think about the afterwards, and how irresponsible she was doubtless being for agreeing to go out with him that night.

What should she wear? Which shoes? Should she pin her hair up or let it loose? Unimportant, feminine concerns to distract herself from the bigger picture.

Eventually she chose a pale blue sundress that showed off her tan. She loosely pinned up her hair, letting a few tendrils fall down. Her skin was already sun-kissed so she wore minimal make up.

She wished she had a girlfriend there to give her an assessment and some moral support. But her best friend Ann was back in the UK and almost certainly wouldn’t approve of something like this, engaged to a trainee vicar as she was.

The fact that she was completely alone gave Cara a strange sense of freedom. Nothing on this holiday would count, she decided. It was out of time, out of her world, the equivalent to a dream. She would follow her desires and when she went home again she would be back to normality and it would be nothing but a memory, a secret that no one need ever know about.

It was an adventure. Below the calm and collected manner she was trying to project, her stomach was churning with nerves, both fear and excitement.

And something deeper. Some strange, fatalistic sense that something was happening in her life that was actually supposed to happen. That although this all should seem wrong, it felt right. This encounter was meant to be.