She was right, Skye thought with a sudden leap of her heart, and she longed to go to his side.

But it was no use trying to talk to El Diablo as so many people had a prior claim on his attention and, after a while, she walked back with Jimmy to the suite of rooms on the ground floor, which one of the servants had told them constituted the President’s private apartments.

Here the rooms were big and airy, all with balconies overlooking the sea. In the sitting room there were innumerable bowls of flowers, some of which were gifts sent to welcome the President to the Palace.

Skye felt a pang of jealousy. So many people would want to make a fuss of El Diablo now that he was in a position of authority and control.

“He is a man!”

She could hear again the throb in the young woman’s voice and it made her move restlessly around the room, touching the books that lay strewn about, picking up a newspaper only to put it down again, her white dress in the soft light giving her the appearance of a restless ghost unable to find peace.

Jimmy had been unusually silent all the evening, but now, as she looked up to meet the anxiety in his eyes, she saw that he was about to say what was on his mind.

“Listen to me, Skye – ” he began.

“Don’t talk to me,” she cried impulsively. “Don’t ask me anything – there’s nothing I can tell you – yet!”

He was wise enough to understand and to leave her alone and Skye walked to the balcony to stand looking out at the magnificent panorama of sky, sea and land.

The lights of the town twinkled below her and the stars shone above.

She felt suddenly very insignificant and very lost and then she repeated to herself some words of El Diablo’s that had been her only comfort these past days.

“Have you not yet learned that I never leave go of anything I want and that I never lose what I desire?”

He desired her still. She was sure of it.

There was still the fire behind his eyes as he looked at her, there was still that feeling of magnetism between them, she could not be mistaken about that.

She stood there for a long, long time, the night wind stirring her hair, until she heard a door open and close again and, turning round, saw that El Diablo had come into the room.

He undid the heavy leather belt that he wore round his waist and threw it over the back of the chair.

And then he stood looking at her.

They were alone as she had prayed they might be and yet, because of a sudden, almost overwhelming shyness, she had to speak of unimportant things.

“I have been admiring your view,” she said. “Is the party over?”

“Yes, everyone has gone,” he answered.