‘Does Howard know you’re here tonight?’ Joey asked, naming the man whom Fran usually dated.

‘Of course not. He’d never approve. In fact he doesn’t approve of my doing this story. I asked him what he could tell me about Ali, and he just gave me the PR line about how important he was, and how Kamar was a valuable ally. When I said there were too many mysteries, Howard went pale and said, “For pity’s sake, don’t offend him.”’

‘What a wimp!’ Joey said provocatively.

‘Howard isn’t a wimp, but he is a merchant banker, and he has a banker’s priorities.’

‘And you’re going to marry this guy?’

‘I never said that,’ Fran answered quickly. ‘Probably. One day. Maybe.’

‘Boy, you’re really head over heels about him, aren’t you?’

‘Can we concentrate on what we’re here for?’ she asked frostily.

‘Place your bets, please!’

Ali pushed a large stake out over the board to red twenty-seven, then leaned back with an air of supreme indifference. He maintained it throughout the spinning of the wheel as the little ball bounced merrily from red to black, from one number to another. Fran found she was holding her breath, her eyes riveted on the wheel, until at last it stopped.

Red twenty-two.

The croupier raked the stakes in. Fran watched Sheikh Ali, frowning. He didn’t even look at the fortune that was vanishing. All his attention was for his new stake.

Suddenly he looked up at her.

She gasped. Two points of light pierced her, held her imprisoned.

Then he smiled, and it was the most wickedly charming smile she had ever seen. It invited her into a conspiracy of delight and something in her leaped to accept. She discovered that she was smiling back; she didn’t know how or why. Simply that the smile had taken over her mouth, then her eyes, then her whole body.