A strange giddiness made him lightheaded as he looped the scarf around her neck. His eyes locked with Phryne's as a sense of joyful lust and want caused his hands to clench unexpectedly in the striped wool. The action tugged her closer and his gaze travelled to her poppy-coloured lips that had parted breathlessly at his sudden boldness.

Sitting in the midst of a crowd of football fans, Jack knew he'd crossed a line of propriety between himself and Miss Fisher, but found that the knowledge invigorated rather than concerned him. Having forced himself to be a mostly passive participant in Phryne's game of "seduce DI Robinson" for so long, the rush he got from turning the tables on her sparked in his blood.

And Phryne…Phryne seemed lost for words for once: her face tilted up towards him, a smile on her lips, her eyes soft with desire. Jack smirked, amused that he had finally found her way to stop her wisecracks and witty verbal assualts. Perhaps the next time she barged in on one of his investigations, he could grasp her by the hips and tug her tight against him to stop her words...

Reluctantly, Jack relaxed his grip on the scarf and leaned back into his seat, aware that, with his ex-wife and former father-in-law (not to mention a grandstand full of football fans) close by, he could not give in to the desires that were rapidly overcoming his common sense. For her part, Phryne was both stunned and slightly miffed that her years of mastery over her emotions and sexuality had been shredded by one man's heated gaze and loving gesture. And yet…despite the space he'd created between them, Phryne recognised a darkness in Jack's eyes and a tilt of his jaw that said he was just as invested as she in this sudden acceleration of their relationship. Impishly, Phryne decided that, although they had a football game to sit through before she could drag Jack off to have her way with him, there was no reason why she couldn't test his self control in the meanwhile.

Jack watched her out of the corner of his eye, his whole body humming with awareness of her every movement, her every slightly-ragged breath. When she relaxed into her seat and appeared to turn her attention dutifully to the game, he wondered if he had miscalculated her feelings for him. Perhaps the world-changing emotions burning inside his heart were not shared. Perhaps Phryne saw him as nothing more than a pleasant distraction and had never had any intention of moving beyond flirti…

Oh.

Oh.

Her hand, her clever little hand, had snuck into the space between their bodies where they sat on the bench and she was touching him. Her fingers trailed across his outer thigh before tracing a path across his knee and up the inner seam of his trousers. Right here in public, with their friends and colleagues nearby, and nothing but the draped folds of his overcoat to maintain their privacy.

"Phryne!" he hissed, although whether in reprimand or encouragement even he couldn't say. He fought to keep his eyes fixed at the field, but his heart was beating her name. Unable to stay passive any longer, his left hand snaked down to capture her wandering fingers. Using his grip on her to tug her closer, Jack leaned sideways as if to share an insight into the football game in front of them. His lips at her ear, he whispered with barely concealed desire, "if you keep that up Miss Fisher, I will be forced to defend myself. I do not intend to embarrass myself like a virginal 20 year old whilst sitting in the middle of a grandstand."

Jack heard Phryne's breath hitch and her fingers, held tight in his grasp, twitched.

"Jack, darling," she breathed, all innocent smile and faked decorum, "that sounds like a challenge."