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Clear, warm waters and azure skies did nothing for her. There had been a holiday, once, where she had sat on one of those white sanded beaches whilst grinning Caribbean boys brought her drinks under a "made in china" palm parasol. The heat, even in the shade, was sapping.

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The first time Lara laid eyes on him had been in court. She had sat on the hard bench in the back row of the public gallery and watched him give his closing arguments on a Murder One case – Matricide. A chill shot up her spine as she pondered how anyone would contemplate killing their own mother. But the vehemence with which Ross de Marco stated his client's innocence was compelling.

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