“I love you,” he said, “oh, my God in heaven, I love you!”

She looked scared, and he touched her dear eyes to wipe away the tears.

“Miriam,” he said. He suddenly felt awful. “Please never make me leave you.”

She gazed at him, her eyes slow and contented. “I adore you,” she said, and there was such reverence in her tone that he wanted to cry. Maybe somebody would want a broke-down old CIA officer after all. And maybe that somebody would be this wonderful, special girl.

Miriam slid out from under him and drew his head down into her lap. With loving eyes, she gazed at him. Then she bent closer, kissing the tip of his nose and then his lips, and then the pulsing vein in the curve of his neck. She lay her mouth there for a moment, then withdrew.

Paul felt her sucking his skin a little. It was a nice sensation.

Suddenly he jumped away from her.

There, across the room, stood the woman from the limo, the woman who had blown him on the dance floor.

Miriam got up, went to her, and took her hands. Sarah nodded her head, and Miriam burst out laughing. Her laughter pealed out again and again, and it was so pretty and so full of fun that he started laughing, too.

“How long have you been in here?” Paul asked her.

“Since you started.”

“You sure got an eyeful.”

Sarah shrugged.

“May I know your name?”

“Sarah.” She nodded toward Miriam. “I do her books.”

“You let your accountant in here when you’re—” He chuckled. “To each his own, I guess.”

“It was lovely,” Sarah said. “You’re a very lovely man.”

The look in her eyes, though, did not suggest that she was pleased with what she had seen. In fact, there was something real on edge about this lady.

Then another one came in through the wall.

“Oh, hey,” Paul said as the girl who’d shown him the club appeared. He got his pants on. Not that one more naked male would matter to this crew.

Then he saw that she was blushing like a tomato. She had a funny little silver thing in her hand. A strange knife.

“What’s that?”

It disappeared into her jeans. “Sorry, Miriam!”

Miriam went to her. “This is Leo. The three of us run this club together. Leo’s the granddaughter of General Patton.”

“He was my mother’s cousin.”

He threw on the shirt, started buttoning it. “General Patton, Lord Baltimore, Morrie McClellan, and Prince Philip. Not to mention Ben Stiller, who was in your place earlier. Lotta names to drop.”

“Lord who?” Sarah asked.

Miriam smiled at her in a way that told Paul she was being made to shut up. Which meant that Miriam’s story about Lord Baltimore was a lie. Which meant that she felt a need to conceal the origin of her wealth. Interesting.