The ceremony was lovely - my only bugbear was that I didn't get to have my traditional sneak peek at the groom's happy face. Mainly because of Declan's big mug being in the way!

And, as anticipated, I cried. I tried to keep the tears inside my eyes so as not to disturb my perfect make-up . . . But they eventually leaked a little, so I tried to dab at them delicately with a tissue. Ric, who had finally let go of me when we stood up for the bride's entrance, noticed the action and stroked my arm lightly to grab my attention. "You okay?" He asked softly. His eyes were caring. I nodded, touched at the worried frown creasing his brow.

"I always cry at weddings," I whispered back. "I'm a sap when it comes to this stuff." He slipped his hand back into mine at that.

"It's not sappy," he assured me, his breath warm against my cheek. "I think it's sweet." And I could have melted into a puddle in the floor at those words.

I'm gradually coming to the conclusion that Ricardo Parker would actually be Ideal Boyfriend Material if his behaviour so far today is anything to go by. He is attentive, surprisingly good at small talk, and hilariously funny. If he isn't holding my hand, he's usually finding some way to touch me. He rarely leaves my side unless it's to fetch me another drink. Oh, and once to go for a pee, which is fair enough.

That damn Anticipation is ramping up once again.

"You'd make a good professional escort," I tell him now, three glasses of free fizz having significantly loosened my tongue. We're alone at this point, sitting in a corner of the hotel garden as photographs of the wedding party are taken and everyone mingles. Of course, as soon as I say those words, I want to grab them and stuff them back in my mouth.

But he laughs, much to my relief. "Maybe I could consider it as a backup career if I'm ever made redundant."

"I'll give you a five-star recommendation if it helps at all," I say lightly. He trails a hand along my back and smiles into my eyes. God, he is just perfection.

"The problem is, I'm not sure I'd want any other clients." His voice is husky. Meaningful. And there he goes again: giving me hope. Making me feel all the things. Forcing me to yearn. Turning me inside out emotionally.

Also, I think my knickers just dissolved.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, and he nods slowly, that grin growing wider and sexier by the second. "In that case, you might need to throw in some added extras to sweeten the deal and make me pay more," I say, not sure whether to cringe at my words or be impressed with myself. Judging by his reaction, I'll go with the latter.

"I'm sure I can use my imagination," he murmurs. How is it even possible for those eyes to darken further?

There's been a few of these little "incidents" today. Where we both seem to forget we're not actually a couple, even when no one else is around to witness it.

Earlier, for example, I noticed his tie nearly matched the colour of my dress. "That's a great coincidence considering I didn't tell you what I was wearing," I had laughed. I'd straightened it for him . . . Even though it was perfectly straight already. I'd just wanted an excuse - any excuse - to get my hands on him.

"I just thought I'd go with one that matched your eyes," he had said softly. I'd tilted my head upwards to look directly at him. He'd noticed my eyes? "They're a great colour," he'd added, face serious. Tension sizzled in the air between us, but then my colleague Katie and her husband joined us, and the moment slipped away into the ether.

Right now, I'm longing for him to kiss me again. Right now, his lips are mere inches from mine, and I'm desperate to close the gap, recreate the magic that set me alight just over a week ago. This banter, these intense looks, that chemistry . . . All of it feels like the foreplay to an epic kiss.

I've never wanted anything more.

"Declan's watching again." Ric's words should break the spell. But they don't.

"I. Don't. Care." My voice emerges as a hoarse whisper. Something bright flashes in his eyes at this.

Is he finally starting to get it?

His fingers tangle in my hair; his breath traces my face as he moves closer. "Why can't I resist you, Abigail?"

That simple sentence is like a beautiful arrow to my heart. Perhaps one belonging to Cupid?

"Maybe because this is beyond our control?" I suggest. I inwardly roll my eyes at my own line - clearly, I've been reading way too many romance novels. But the magnetic attraction between us is almost impossible to ignore by this stage.

He presses a kiss to the edge of my mouth. Lingers there. It's not enough. I crave more. He's kiss-teasing me. Again. "That could be it," he manages to say. I can feel his lips curving into a smile against my cheek. Can sense the tension leaving his body. Like he's finally giving in, surrendering. He rests his forehead against mine. Acceptance.

And I can't hold back any longer either. Pretending to just be "friends" has been killing me this last week. In case this is one of those limited-time-only Ric specials, I want to take advantage before he potentially gets cold feet again.

So I angle my face to allow our lips to align fully and take the kiss I've been craving for days. I don't care that we're on show, I don't care that my ex is part of the audience . . . I just need my fix.

The chemicals fizz through my body as he pulls me closer and responds. I feel like I could float away on the high this is giving me. I'm barely tethered to earth as his tongue slips into my mouth, as his hands cup my face.

It's an unbelievably gentle kiss - I think we're both mindful that it's not the time or place for anything else - but it's everything, and it feels like a promise for something more.

There's some sort of announcement being made about taking our places for the meal and speeches as we finally break apart. I suddenly wish we didn't have to go to dinner. I just want to sit in the corner of this pretty garden and kiss Ric forever.

Ending the kiss terrifies me because I don't know what comes next. Is he willing to take a chance on me now? I'm scared to even ask.

He's smiling as he stands, though, reaching out a hand to help me up. "Shall we?" He asks, tipping his chin in the direction of the door. Words are failing me, so I simply nod. My legs are wobbly as he leads me towards the next stage of the evening.

We're handed another glass of fizz as we re-enter the hotel reception - the free drinks are fair flowing today, keep 'em coming! - and I notice Declan suddenly emerging from the room where the dinner is being held. He looks shifty, and I find myself frowning. What is he up to?

"Hmm," Ric mutters, and I realise he's watching my ex too, suspicion pinching his dark eyebrows together. We watch as he slips back into place next to Carrie, can tell she's clearly asking him where he's been. Judging by his very graphic miming, he's explaining that he's just been to the loo - obviously a blatant lie. We're no longer the only ones watching as he feigns aiming his groin area at an imaginary urinal. Carrie, understandably, looks mortified.

Once again, I wonder why I wasted so much time on him. Loveheart Eye Filters have a lot to answer for.

"Anyway, will we go check which table we're at?" Ric suggests, thankfully distracting me from Declan's antics. We walk towards the massive board listing the tables - each one is named after a Scottish loch, which is a nice touch.

"We're on Loch Fyne," I report, after scanning the list. Unsurprisingly, the table is just made up of my colleagues and their dates. But our names are separated from Declan and Carrie by Sara and Jeff, so I'm assuming that we won't be seated next to them. I breathe a sigh of relief. I've not needed to talk to Declan since the awkward greeting pre-ceremony, and I don't particularly want to have to start now.

"That's actually my favourite loch," Ric grins, as everyone starts to settle at their tables. I find myself laughing out loud at that.

"Really? Do you have a top 5 list of lochs, or something, nerd?" I tease him. He makes a face at me, before pulling out my chair like a true gent.

"I have a top ten list, actually. If you behave, I might even show it to you."

"And what if I don't want to behave?" I ask softly as I drop into the chair. I look straight ahead, barely believing my own nerve.

I hear him breathe in, sharply. He sits down himself, then leans forward so his face is close to my ear. "Then maybe I'll have to show you something else," he whispers. His meaning is clear, and I feel myself blushing once again.

I look briefly away to recover myself, and that's when I notice the place card to the right of me. And suddenly I know exactly what Declan was up to earlier. He's sneaked in and re-arranged the place settings so he's sitting right next to me.

I'm about to be sandwiched between my ex boyfriend and my fake date - the fake date I'm falling for more and more by the minute.

This is not going to be easy . . .

Oh Declan, you naughty troll! Hopefully this won't affect the delightful chemistry between Abby and Ric . . .