Free Falling for Mr. December by Kate Hardy Page A

National Portrait Gallery, they ended up holding hands again. This time, Sammy slanted Nick a sideways glance, at exactly the same time that he looked at her.
    She burst out laughing. ‘Is it just me, or do you feel seventeen again?’
    â€˜Something like that,’ he said, and tightened his fingers round hers. ‘I feel as if I should have greasy hair that’s badly cut, acne, and be quoting terrible poetry at you.’
    She laughed. ‘I bet you were a beautiful teen.’ And then she blushed. ‘Um, that’s with my photographer’s head on.’
    â€˜I’ll accept the compliment very happily,’ he said. ‘For the record, I bet you were a beautiful teen, too.’
    â€˜Nah. I was very ordinary,’ Sammy told him with a grin.
    He didn’t believe that at all.
    They spent the afternoon wandering round the gallery, and Sammy taught him how to read a portrait. ‘The whole point of a portrait is to tell you about the subject. With the older paintings, the background’s important and you need to look at what the person chooses to be painted with. In modern photographic portraits, you try to stop the background noise coming through and concentrate on your subject.’
    There was a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘I love it when you talk technical.’
    She grimaced. ‘Sorry. I can be very boring on my pet subject.’
    â€˜I’m not bored in the slightest. This is totally new stuff to me.’ He smiled at her. ‘Besides, I rambled on enough about law earlier.’
    When she’d said how she loved her job, too. She’d understood something about him that Naomi never had. And it was crazy that it made him feel so warm inside.
    â€˜Do you have any portraits on display here?’ he asked.
    She laughed. ‘Sadly, I’m not
quite
in the same league as David Bailey or Lord Lichfield. Maybe one day.’
    â€˜What’s your favourite portrait you’ve taken?’ he asked.
    She looked thoughtful. ‘I can probably name you half a dozen. But my absolute favourite is probably Freddy, the free runner.’
    â€˜You mean, one of those people who run around London and jump off rooftops?’ he asked.
    â€˜According to Freddy, it’s all about expressing yourself without limiting your movement—but yes, that’s what it looks like. To get the interview and the portrait, the journalist and I went with him on a free run. He said you know who you are when you know how your body moves and what you’re capable of doing. That if you learn to overcome obstacles in your environment you’ll also learn how to overcome obstacles and stress in your daily life—and that fascinated me.’
    â€˜So you actually did the jumping off roofs bit with him?’ Now that he hadn’t expected.
    â€˜Not with my camera, no—the insurance would never have covered that kind of risk.’ She smiled. ‘But I did have a go when the journo looked after my camera.’
    He raised an eyebrow. ‘So are you brave, or are you a thrill seeker?’
    â€˜Neither,’ she said. ‘Life’s short, so it’s always worth taking the chance to experience something new, even if it seems a bit scary at first. Because that way you push yourself beyond your boundaries and you live life to the full—you don’t get left with a pile of regrets at the end.’
    â€˜That’s a good philosophy,’ he said. ‘So what’s on your bucket list?’
    For a moment he thought he saw her flinch. But it must’ve been his imagination. Or maybe it was a phrase that made her think about her sister. ‘Sorry. That could’ve been phrased better.’
    â€˜Things I really want to do before I die.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Top of my list would be the chance to go to the edge of the earth’s atmosphere—the bit where you see the blue curved line of space and all the blackness