«Of course. I am Diana»

Blade nodded. «Good choice. It suits you, I think. Goddess of the moon. And of huntink.»

The green eyes narrowed at him. «I am-very good at hunting.»

Blade leaned back and- exhaled smoke. «And I the willing prey, Diana. Now-are you going to swim or not? I have just remembered a bird and bottle at the cottage. A couple of birds, in fact, and all the bottles we need. Interested?»

«Very much. After my swim»

She glanced up and down the little cove. The beach was small, a scallop of sand and shingle eroded by the sea at the base of overhanging cliffs. Some hundreds of yards down the cliff facade a wooden stair switchbacked precariously up to the rim.

«Can anyone see us?»

Blade flipped his cigarette away and smiled at her. He was still not quite convinced that she would do it, but was prepared to be pleasantly surprised.

«The villagers may be idiots and smugglers, but I doubt there are many Peeping Toms around. They leave me pretty well alone. Of course there is old Professor Wright. He strolls along the cliffs sometimes. But he's nearsighted and more than a little around the bend. He wears an Inverness cape and a deerstalker cap and thinks he is Sherlock Holmes in retirement. He even keeps bees.»

«Professor Wright sounds like an old darling,» said the girl. «I shouldn't mind him seeing me. As long as there are no cameras-«

There was a clue in that last imperfect sentence, but Blade let it slide past. At the moment he did not care who she was. What she was-that was the important thing. And what she was kept him speechless for a moment.

She pulled the mini-dress over her head in a single motion and let it drop on the sand. She faced him, wide-legged, hands on hips, half-smiling and half-serious, with no preening of her body. She simply offered it for inspection.