She gave him a knowing smile. "Uh huh. And what do I have to do to be a real good girl?" It was the same kind of smile she used to give him in the days when they’d breakfasted under more intimate circumstances—a complication Geraint didn’t want now. The doctors at Maudsley had probably given her a subcutaneous implant; if so, it would play havoc with her neuroendocrines for a couple of days at least. This was certainly not the right time to get into all that again.