“Oh, I’m purely an amateur,” Max said with a dismissive wave and a self-deprecating shake of his head. Dani was pretty sure, given the way his head stayed turned a beat too long, that the gesture was designed to let him survey the room. “Too busy with matters of state and diplomacy these days to muck about in academia,” he added.

Dani had to bite back a smile. That might be true if the “diplomacy” he was talking about was happening between the sheets. She had read one tabloid account of him “romancing” the US ambassador to the Vatican, who, while single, was supposed to be a devout Catholic.

“Your Professor Martinez has been advising me,” Max went on. “She’s been a tremendous help, not just as a local contact, but intellectually.” Max returned his hand to her back and beamed down at her. All she could do was goggle at him. “Shall we find somewhere to sit?” he inquired mildly.

“Sure.”

That had the effect of dismissing James, who moved on to chat with someone else, pulling Sinéad along with him. Alone again, Max said to Dani, “May I buy you another drink before we sit? Perhaps something stronger?”

“Stronger is for after the party,” she said quietly. She rarely drank at these things, wanting to keep her wits about her. “Stronger is for after I get tenure.”

She let him lead her to an unoccupied sofa, feeling the attention of everyone in the room. He whispered in her ear as they went, “Vince and—sorry, what was her name? Sacramento?—looked like they were on their way over to the bar, so that was a little extraction. Let’s let them wonder a little longer who your devastatingly handsome companion is.”

Dani rolled her eyes as Max sat too close to her—he smelled like peppery pine—but she was smiling over the Sacramento joke, which was uncharitable. “Was that all true? I thought your degree was fake—a means of postponing your engagement to Marie.”

“The degree was real. The length of time it took to complete was, perhaps, exaggerated.” He took a sip of wine, unperturbed by her questioning or by the palpable sensation of everyone watching them. “And there really is an Eldovian folk heroine who spent time in Cambridge.”

“What was her name?” She was suspicious, though she wasn’t sure why.

“Karina Klein,” he said without hesitation.

“Never heard of her.”

“I don’t think anyone has outside of Eldovia.”

“Tell me more.”