Cara awoke in the early hours, around dawn. She could see the sky growing lighter over the sea. Matt was fast asleep, in a deep, heavy slumber, and barely stirred when she carefully lifted his arm off her.

She wasn’t sure quite what she should do, but she suspected it would be very awkward if he woke up and she was there. After all it was only supposed to be a casual thing. And he had to play a cricket match in a few hours’ time.

Lying there, only half covered by the sheets, he looked like a sculpted bronze statue. Cara allowed herself one more gaze, trying to capture it in her mind so she would remember him always, slipped on her clothes and crept out.

Back in her room she showered, and then tried to go to sleep again for a couple of hours. But it was impossible: her mind was whirling.

She wanted to avoid him and the rest of the players at all costs, so she hid away in her room and tried to do some study until she was sure they must have breakfasted and been long gone to the cricket match. Then and only then did she finally put on a new outfit for the day and venture downstairs.

As she passed the lobby to the veranda, where she planned to order a strong coffee, the concierge hailed her. "Madam, there is some post for you."

Cara’s first thought was that he meant post from overseas, and had a moment of consternation. Was there an emergency back home? But no, surely they would have telephoned if there had been. For one moment she wondered if it was from Declan, until the concierge handed her a plain white envelope with no address and no stamp.

She took it to the veranda with her and opened it.

It contained two tickets to the test match that day.

Only Matt could have sent it. It must mean he wanted her to come. His team mates wouldn’t have put them there for a prank, would they? Surely none of them knew, she was confident no one had seen them leave the hotel together the previous evening nor return together.

As she sat there, her emotions conflicted as to what to do, the elderly English couple passed her table. "We’re just off to watch the cricket," the man told her. He noticed the tickets that Cara was holding. "Are you coming along too? Why don’t you share a ride with us?"

That settled it. Cara could hardly say she wasn’t going without generating curiosity. She thanked them, and got up to go.

"Do you need to wait for a companion?" the woman asked. Cara was confused, then realised she was holding two tickets.

"No, it’s just me. My friend couldn’t come," she told them. It was thoughtful of Matt to have sent her two tickets, he must have thought she would have preferred not to go alone. Or maybe he was concerned that if she did go alone, it would arouse suspicion?

At any rate she now had two escorts and it would probably appear to any observers that she was holidaying with the British couple.

In the taxi to the cricket ground they exchanged names. The Hilliers were retired and lived in Surrey. They were both passionate cricket supporters and frequently timed their holidays abroad to coincide with England tours. Cara thought how nice it must be for them to have a shared interest that they had both enjoyed like this.

It reminded her of how little she had had in common with Declan. He liked golf of all things, which bored her to tears. Even if she had shown an interest it was Declan’s view that golf wasn’t really a game for women to play. At one time she had cherished what she thought of as his old fashioned values.

Now, given his values where his secretary was concerned, she saw everything in a very different light.

"Do you get to watch many of the county cricket games back home?" Mrs Hillier was asking her.

Cara didn’t like to admit that she had never been to a match in her life. "Unfortunately not, due to work commitments," she said.

"This will be a nice treat for you then!"

Would it? She wasn’t sure if watching cricket would be entertaining or bewildering. From the glimpses she had seen on TV there seemed to be a lot of standing around. But she was determined to go with an open mind. She reflected on how athletic Matt was, as well as the other players she had seen back at the hotel. The game must be reasonably fast-paced and strenuous.

As it turned out she was rapt from the moment they arrived. Matt was batting - she got a jolt seeing his name in large white letters on the scoreboard - and she was on the edge of her seat. It took her a while to get a grasp of the flow of the game, but she remembered a bit from her childhood and her boarding school cousins playing cricket on the lawn. Innings and overs and things. Mrs Hillier generously shared her field glasses with her.

Cara was transfixed by the intensity of the game. It was like chess: the batsmen would hold out, patient, defensive, with the spectators around them getting more and more tense.

Then suddenly there would be an aggressive and spectacular flurry of riskier batting, with the two men putting on another dozen runs and the crowd on their feet whenever the ball was hit for six, before things would settle down again to the endless waiting game.

It was an ordeal. It was fascinating. It was gripping. Cara was absolutely hooked.

As she watched Matt’s lean figure from afar, clad in white, his jaw set resolute against the onslaught, she thrilled every time he cracked the ball back with force and precision, fighting his way to fifty runs by the lunchtime break and getting a standing ovation.

"Splendid effort by Curran this morning," Mr Hillier said. "It’s going to be an exciting afternoon if he goes for the full century."

As they took their seats again just before the afternoon session started, Cara thought how idyllic the ground was. It overlooked the shining waters of the Indian ocean on east and west, with a historic fort to the south. But the serenity belied the fierce battle waged on its green expanse.

Cara almost wished she hadn’t come as the play progressed for the rest of the day. The scoreboard kept climbing and Matt continued to cling on. As his total edged its way upwards the tension in the ground was escalating.

The bowlers were desperate to get him out, you could feel their hunger to defeat him. It was no longer team versus team, it was eleven men versus just one man.

Every appeal - when the Sri Lankan team tried to claim he was out - made her nearly nauseous, and she physically sank back into her chair with relief each time the umpires gave their decision in Matt’s favour.

Finally he had reached the nineties, playing cautiously but still bravely, the runs accumulating at an agonisingly slow rate.

Then he was at ninety-six. The bowler hurtled towards him.

Cara nearly closed her eyes but forced herself to watch, to see Matt crack the ball straight over the boundary in his most spectacular shot of the day.

The board flicked over to 102 and the entire stadium was on its feet in uproar. Even the Hilliers were standing up, applauding and cheering in a very British fashion. Cara just felt dazed. She felt emotionally and physically exhausted.

Was it usually like this? How did they all bear it? Completely on edge for six solid hours.

And all this taking place after a night of extremely disrupted sleep, which she now blushed to think about.

The Hilliers invited Cara to dine with them that night, but she declined and promised to the following evening instead. She was simply too overwhelmed by the day’s events, the force of her own reaction to them, and a desire to avoid Matt.

He would be surrounded by people anyway, fêting him for his century.

Cara ordered room service and ate it on her balcony, the tropical sea breezes calming the heat in her body if not her mind.

She had planned to read but was too tired to even do that, so slipped into the freshly made bed and let sleep overtake her.

Drifting into dreams, she was suddenly awoken by a loud rapping at the door.

Confused, and seeing on the illuminated beside alarm clock that it was shortly after eleven o’clock, she pulled a wrap around her and went to answer it.

It was Matt.

"I had to see you," he said. "I looked for you at dinner but you weren’t there. Can I come in?"

She ushered him through. "Aren’t you exhausted after today?"

"More wired than anything." He didn’t look exhausted. He looked resolute.

She thanked him for the tickets. "I hadn’t been to a test match before. It was very kind of you."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.

What could she say? Had she enjoyed it? It had felt like the biggest ordeal of her life, worse than sitting through the most gruelling exam ever. And yet it had also been the most thrilling and glorious sensation she could remember - the previous night excepted - when he had finally scored one hundred runs.

"It was… amazing."

He laughed. "That’s thanks to you. You brought me luck."

She knew he was joking but he continued. "Seriously. Knowing you were there just gave me extra motivation. It gave me an edge that my game has been lacking recently."

"I didn’t think you would have known I was there," Cara said.

"I saw you arrive with that couple from the hotel." He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her, his gaze intense. "And I need to stay with you tonight."

Her stomach flipped in anticipation. "Wouldn’t you prefer a good night’s sleep?"

"That’s exactly what I’m planning to get." There was a glint in his eye as his lips came down on hers, and Cara felt as though she was melting against him. She marvelled at his stamina after all those hours on the pitch.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. "We could use my room, but seeing as this is just as convenient…"

They kissed for a while and then he stopped. "I meant to ask you about something this morning but you ran out on me. You said you’d been engaged, so I just assumed, I mean anyone would assume…"

She knew what he was trying to say and was mortified. Had her inexperience been that noticeable? Had she been that inept in bed?

"Was it very obvious?" she asked.

"No, that’s the thing, not until…" He didn’t specify and she wanted to die of embarrassment. "It’s just that if I’d known, I wouldn’t have…"

"…you wouldn’t have done it?"

He looked embarrassed. "Probably not. It’s not very fair on you, given the circumstances."

"It’s too late now, and I don’t have any regrets, if that’s what you’re worried about. It doesn’t have to change anything."

He looked relieved though still somewhat guilty. "Also we didn’t…"

"It’s OK, I’m safe where that’s concerned." Cara said hurriedly. She had gone on the pill some months before, in anticipation of Declan possibly breaking his resolve to hold off until their wedding night. Which he had done, just not with her.

"Well then, given that we’re both safe…" His lips came down on her again, this time trailing down her neck, the hollows at its base, over her breast and closing over her nipple as he moved the neck of her nightgown down.

She ached for him.

His hand reached lower. Given the heat of the night she wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his fingers slipped straight between.

"Do you want me?" he asked her, knowing the answer full well from how wet and ready she was.

"Yes." It was barely a whisper. She needed him.

"On one condition then." He was teasing her as he wanted her just as badly. He could barely hold back. "I want you there every day, at the ground, for this match. I’d fly you to the whole series if I could but you probably have to get back."

Cara was thrilled that he wanted her there but pretended to be non-committal.

"I’ll have to see, there might not be any tickets left. Maybe you should remind me what the attraction is…"

He grinned and then turned his full, masterful attention back to her body. It was a long time before either of them got any sleep.