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profusely?
    “Looks like it. Hey, Morris, it’s all clean and I think you’re going to be fine.” Robin tickled the cat, who pulled his claws out of Dan, turned over and wriggled, demanding more attention.
    Dan had never felt jealous of an animal before, but God, he wanted some of that affection lavished on him. However, when Robin looked up to him with sparkling eyes and a warm smile, he forgot all his uncharitable thoughts. The love Robin had for that cat shone out of his face, blessing Dan with some of the second-hand radiance. Surely this was time for his reward kiss? To say thank you properly. To say—
    “Thanks, Dan, I really appreciate all your help.” And then Robin picked Morris out of Dan’s arms and cuddled the cat close, flopping back against the sofa and closing his eyes as the last of the stress drained out of his face.
    Nope, that definitely wasn’t a man in the mood for seduction. He should get a grip—just make the most of being here and getting to know Robin better.
    “Would you like a drink?” Dan asked, pleased to see the lazy smile curve Robin’s lips as he opened his eyes. “How about a cuppa? I’m sure I can find my way around your kitchen.”
    “I’d love one, but I should be doing all that, really.” Robin looked like a man who had no intention of getting up any time soon.
    Dan grinned. “No worries, you just look after Morris and I’ll sort us both out with a nice cup of tea.” Oh God, he was turning into his mum. A woman convinced that the world’s problems could all be solved if only people would take the time to sit down together and drink a cup of PG Tips. Possibly with a digestive biscuit on the side. At the thought of food, his stomach rumbled. It felt like a long time since he’d breakfasted, having spent his morning photographing Mel in her boat and then being shown into several other boater’s homes. They were a friendly bunch, once Mel introduced them, although he had the suspicion she’d started him off with the easy ones.
    “Tea bags are in the tin on the top shelf, and the fridge is next to the sink.”
    “Thanks. Umm, any biscuits by any chance? I’m famished.”
    “I see, you’re expecting feeding now, are you?”
    Dan’s eyes flicked up to Robin’s, and he was relieved to see humour in their depths. “I think I’ve earned at least a biscuit, don’t you think? Possibly more.” Although he wasn’t going to detail what just yet.
    Robin chuckled. “I think you’ll have to settle for the biscuit, as anything else is going to need cooking. Look on the shelves under the glasses. There should be a new pack of Hob Nobs.”
    With everything prepared, there was nothing to do but wait for the kettle to boil. Dan peered out of the porthole above the hob, wondering what it must be like to live life with such tiny windows. It was almost like seeing the world through a fish-eye lens.
    Shit—his camera! There was two grands’ worth of equipment in his camera bag, and he’d just left it out there on the back of his bike. His unlocked, cost-a-small-fortune, custom-built bike. A terrible certainty sank through him like a stone. It wasn’t going to be there, was it? One of these gypsies would have made off with it, and he’d have lost his whole morning’s work as well.
    “Fuck!” He crashed his way through the doors and off the boat.  

Chapter Seven
    What on earth was all that about? Robin stared at the half-open doors. The boat rocked gently in Dan’s wake, and his eyelids soon started to feel heavy. The comforting warmth of Morris on his lap lulled him into a dreamy state—it was only when the kettle started whistling that he pulled his strands of attention together enough to realise it was up to him to sort it out.
    “Sorry, Morris, you old lump. You’ll just have to do without me for a moment.” By now Morris was so fast asleep that he didn’t even stir as Robin hefted him onto the sofa. Robin stood and stretched, then turned off the gas and opened