Yes, attraction can grow over time. Someone who leaves you unmoved at first might become appealing as you discover their humour, warmth, reliability or shared interests. That doesn't mean forcing feelings that aren't there; it means allowing a genuine connection a little room to develop.
The trouble with romantic films is that everyone knows whether they're in love before they've finished ordering coffee. Two people collide outside a bookshop, catch each other's eyes, and the violins immediately inform the audience that a wedding is inevitable.
Real life has rarely been so organised.
I have met women who stopped me in my tracks, only for the conversation to struggle past the first drink. I've also met fascinating people whose appeal crept up on me quietly, like a good song you don't properly appreciate until the third time you hear it.
Yes, attraction can grow over time. Spending time with somebody can reveal their humour, character, confidence and warmth in ways a first impression never could. Friendship sometimes develops into romance. But attraction doesn't always grow, and extra dates can't manufacture a spark where there's no interest or willingness from either person.
The interesting question isn't “How long must I wait until she fancies me?” It's “Is there something between us worth exploring?”
Rather different questions. One respects two people. The other sounds like the opening line of a deeply unfortunate business plan.
Why the first impression isn't the whole story
An initial impression has plenty of power. Appearance, voice, manner and whatever happens in the first few minutes can influence whether you want to see someone again. Research following speed daters has found that early attraction and the particular connection between two people can predict their later romantic interest.
But they aren't a complete portrait. A woman might seem reserved because she's nervous, distracted or wondering whether she's spilled something on her dress. The quiet man at a dinner party may prove wonderfully funny once the conversation moves beyond introductions. A person you barely noticed in a group may become fascinating in a more relaxed setting.
Perhaps they're more comfortable now. Perhaps you've discovered something new. A first glance is a beginning, not always a verdict.
Familiarity can help, but it isn't romantic magic
There's a curious business psychologists call the mere-exposure effect: in some circumstances, familiarity can make something more appealing. It's one reason an unfamiliar song occasionally turns into the thing you play three times in a row. People, however, are not records, and romance is substantially more complicated than having a favourite tune.
Think of the woman you encounter at a friend's dinner parties. At first you exchange pleasantries about the weather. Next time, you discover a shared love of dreadful detective programmes. By the fourth gathering, she knows precisely which absurd comment will have you choking on your wine, and you find yourself hoping she'll be there before you've even chosen your jacket.
It's not the number of meetings doing the work. It's the jokes, surprises, stories and little pieces of personality those meetings have revealed.
And the reverse is equally possible. See somebody half a dozen times and discover they never listen, never ask a question and consider waiters an inferior species, and familiarity is unlikely to improve matters.
I am all for letting a promising acquaintance develop. I am considerably less enthusiastic about the notion of hanging about indefinitely until somebody who isn't interested changes her mind. That's not a slow-burning romance. That's loitering in a very nice shirt.
When friendship becomes something more
One of life's happier surprises is the friend whose company suddenly feels a little different.
Perhaps you've known each other for years. You know she collects hideous souvenir magnets, she knows you order chips with a meal that clearly doesn't need them, and neither of you has ever considered the other a romantic prospect.
Then you find yourselves alone after a party. The conversation continues long after everyone else has left. She laughs at something you've said, and for the first time you notice how lovely she looks when she does. You walk home wondering why you never noticed before.
Friends-to-lovers relationships are not a rare invention of romantic comedies. In research drawing on several samples of adults and students, many people in relationships reported that friendship came first. It doesn't mean friendship is secretly romance in a waiting room. It means affection and attraction can sometimes emerge from knowing somebody well.
What happens next depends on the two of you. A friendly suggestion of dinner, if there seems to be a mutual spark, is rather more appealing than delivering an unexpected speech about how you've loved her since the Battle of Hastings.
And if she doesn't see you that way? Well, you haven't been cheated out of a romance. You've discovered that your feelings differ. Sometimes the friendship continues, sometimes things need a little breathing space. Either way, there's no need to turn a lovely history into a courtroom argument.
How to tell whether a slow burn is developing
Slow attraction usually has less to do with fireworks than with growing curiosity.
You start looking forward to seeing someone. You notice the particular way she makes you laugh. You find yourself wanting to share a story with her because you already know she'd appreciate the absurdity. Ordinary time together feels easier rather than harder.
Even the details change: her voice, her smile, the way she concentrates. No dramatic switch required.
Comfort isn't necessarily romantic interest. You can adore someone's company without wanting to kiss her.
Try this question: if she suggested another date, would you feel genuinely pleased and intrigued — or would you agree only because you thought you ought to fancy her?
One answer suggests there's something to discover. The other deserves an honest look.
Is it worth going on a second date without an instant spark?
I wouldn't write off a pleasant evening simply because nobody knocked over a vase in a fit of passion.
A first date is an awkward little production. There are nerves, wrong turns, somebody choosing a restaurant with music loud enough to register on the Richter scale. You can spend half the evening thinking about whether you've got spinach in your teeth.
If the conversation had some life in it and you left genuinely wanting to know more, another meeting may be an excellent idea. Choose somewhere you can actually hear each other. Give the connection a little daylight.
But a second date is an opportunity, not a sentence handed down by a judge. If you spent the whole evening wondering how soon you could call a taxi, don't book a weekend in Rome in the hope the Colosseum will sort it out.
My own measure is pleasantly simple: when she texts, do you feel a little lift? Are you looking forward to her company, rather than merely relieved somebody wants yours?
That's a far better reason to see her again than any rule about how many dates a spark is supposed to take.
What if she likes you, but you're unsure about her?
Being admired is delightful. I have an entire wardrobe dedicated to the experience. But it's surprisingly easy to mistake enjoying someone's admiration for being in love with the admirer.
Picture this: she's funny, stylish, generous and plainly keen. Your mates declare she's a catch. Your mother is already imagining a wedding. You're having nice evenings together, yet you never quite find yourself anticipating the next kiss.
You might simply need time. Perhaps physical attraction is starting to catch up with the friendship you've built. But be curious about your own feelings, not merely grateful for hers.
If you'd like another date, say so. If you're certain the romantic element is missing, you can be kind without inventing a future you don't want.
The finest compliments in the world won't rescue an evening when one person is there for romance and the other is there for the ego boost. I've known men who've behaved like that. They're tremendous admirers of themselves, though not always tremendous company.
Can you help attraction develop naturally?
You can't order a romantic spark like another round of cocktails. You can, however, give a promising connection a rather better setting in which to reveal itself.
A noisy nightclub shows you how somebody looks under flashing lights and whether they can lip-read. Splendid information, but hardly the complete picture. A lazy Sunday lunch, a slightly chaotic cooking date or an afternoon wandering through a town you've never visited may tell you considerably more.
Do something that brings out your actual character. If you're funny, let the humour happen. If you're passionate about food, share a favourite little restaurant. If you've got a ridiculous story about taking the wrong train and ending up in Blackpool, tell it.
Don't compose a fictional version of yourself based on the sort of man you imagine she wants. A second date built around borrowed opinions and rehearsed lines may go beautifully until you have to remember all the lies.
The aim isn't to persuade somebody reluctant. It's to let two curious people find out whether there is more to their connection than the first date happened to show.
For men who aren't naturally the loudest at the table, I've written separately about projecting warmth without pretending to be extroverted. A quiet manner is no barrier to being memorable.
When the slow burn turns out to be cold toast
Not every pleasant acquaintance is a romance in disguise. If you don't look forward to seeing her, the conversation feels like a dental appointment and you've spent four dates waiting for something to happen, it may simply not be there.
The same applies when the enthusiasm is all yours. A friendly rejection isn't the opening move in a game of persistence. Nobody has ever been made more romantically appealing by behaving like a telemarketer who won't stop ringing.
And don't confuse butterflies with a reason to overlook behaviour you dislike. A slow-building attraction can be lovely; a slow-building collection of excuses is much less promising.
Sometimes the most elegant conclusion is simply, “I enjoyed meeting you.” You haven't failed. You've had an experience, perhaps a very good evening, and learnt a little more about what you're looking for.
You needn't turn every pleasant dinner into a three-act drama.
Slow-burn attraction versus being a good match
Falling for somebody and fitting well together are not quite the same thing. A slow-burning romance can still reveal wildly different plans for the future. I tackle that in chemistry versus compatibility. Here, remember only this: as your interest grows, keep discovering who she is.
A last word from behind the aviators
I am fond of spectacular entrances. Given half a chance, I'll descend a grand staircase in a dinner jacket so outrageous the chandelier will feel underdressed.
Romance, though, doesn't always make an entrance at all. Sometimes it sits quietly opposite you, orders another coffee and says something so funny you remember it three days later.
That's part of the pleasure. Not knowing. Having someone surprise you. Discovering that the person you barely noticed at the first party is the one you can't wait to see at the next.
So yes, attraction can grow with time. If you like her company and she seems equally pleased to see you, don't demand a thunderbolt before you've had the chance to learn her favourite joke. See what develops.
And if it doesn't? A charming evening is still worth having. Not every champagne cork has to herald a lifelong love affair.
If you'd like a touch of Monty magic before your next introduction, pick up my free Seven Secrets to Becoming a Babe Magnet guide. The swagger is included. The velvet jacket you'll have to provide yourself.