‘And the magic prince?’ he teased.

‘He came out of the smoke, of course. But he always vanished in the smoke again, and the dream ended.’

‘But you never stopped hoping for the flying carpet,’ Ali said gently. ‘You pretend to be very sensible and grown-up, but in your heart you’re sure that one day it will come.’

She blushed a little. It was disconcerting to have him read her thoughts so well.

‘I think that for you,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘the carpet will come.’

‘I don’t believe in magic,’ she said, with a little shake of her head.

‘But what do you call magic? When I saw you standing there tonight, that was magic far more potent than casting spells. And from that moment everything went well with me.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Do you know how much your witchcraft made me win? One hundred thousand. Look.’

Ali reached into his inside pocket, drew out a cheque book and calmly proceeded to write out a cheque for the full amount.

‘What are you doing?’ Fran gasped.

‘I am giving you what is rightfully yours. You won this. Do with it as you will.’

He signed it with a flourish, then looked up at her, his eyes teasing. ‘Who shall I make it out to? Come, admit defeat. Now you will have to tell me your name.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ she mused. She raised the glass, letting her eyes flirt with him over the rim. ‘I’d be very foolish to give in right this minute, wouldn’t I?’

‘But I must have a name to put on the cheque.’

She shrugged.

‘Without a name I can’t give it to you.’

‘Then keep it,’ she said with an elegant gesture. ‘I didn’t ask you for anything.’

His eyes showed his admiration. ‘You’re not afraid to play for high stakes.’

‘But I’m not playing for anything,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I’ve lived very happily without wealth and I can go on doing so.’