He shook his head, his face grave. ‘No. For me, compromise of any kind isn’t an option.’

Ilse felt a shiver run down her spine. Nicholas was a special friend, so special that, if it were not for the way she felt about Max, she could have almost imagined herself a little in love with him. She didn’t want him to come to the attention of the authorities as being an enemy of the state. She didn’t want anything awful happening to him and when he changed the subject, saying, ‘Will you have lunch with me one day next week, Ilse?’ her response was unhesitating.

‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes smiling into his. ‘Yes, Nicholas. I’d love to.’

Watching them, Max’s eyes narrowed even further. It was impossible for him to have any idea as to what they were saying to each other, but the way they were looking at each other spoke volumes.

When the waltz came to an end, they left the dance floor hand in hand. Vladimir, who had been dancing with the girl who was a member of Nicholas’s party, remained on the floor with her as the music changed to a rumba rhythm.

Max remained with one leg carelessly across the other as Ilse sat down again next to him.

Within seconds, Giuseppe Bennazzo asked her to dance.

After that, Axel Hewel asked her, and then Vladimir asserted his rights as her escort again.

By the time Lotti appeared for her second set Max had abandoned the champagne and was nursing another whisky and soda.

Nicholas, who had heard that Max was usually the life and soul of any social gathering, looked at him oddly a few times, but no one else seemed to notice he wasn’t dancing or keeping the table in fits of laughter with wise-cracking jokes.

As they waited for Lotti to join them after her performance had come to an end, Vladimir again led Ilse out onto the dance floor.

Max drained his glass of whisky and then, his evening shirt unfastened at the throat and his bow tie hanging loose, he rose slightly unsteadily to his feet.

Nicholas quirked an eyebrow in his direction, wondering if Max was finally going to ask the girl who had been eyeing him all evening, to dance.

He didn’t do so.

Instead he strolled out onto the dance floor and cut in on Vladimir.

Nicholas saw a second’s surprise flash across Vladimir’s face and then an expression followed it that he couldn’t quite work out. It was almost as if Vladimir had been half expecting Max’s action.

On Ilse’s face there was nothing but startled pleasure.

Seconds later, Vladimir threw himself angrily down in the chair next to him. ‘You want to look to your laurels, Nicky,’ he said tautly. ‘Some Remer family relationships are far closer than is decent.’

Nicholas looked from Vladimir back to the crowded dance floor. Ilse, her gold evening dress shimmering as she danced, her braided hair a gleaming coronet around her head, was totally absorbed in what Max was saying to her. With the first intimations of disquiet he wondered what it was. His disquiet grew as he saw the expression on her face when she replied to him, and he wondered what she was saying.