She held tight to Steve’s hand, not because she disliked the crush of people, but because she was thrilled that he wanted to protect her. She’d never considered herself to be fragile, had never asked to be cosseted, never before wanted it. And no man had ever assumed such a macho role on her behalf. She was surprised to find herself enjoying it now.

She accepted a glass of champagne from a waitress and looked around. It was a pretty yard with lots of flowers and shrubs and delicate white wrought-iron furniture. The people were pretty, too. And polite. They’d left her alone when Steve had dragged her off to the patio. “Is there anyone famous here?” she asked.

“You mean besides you?”

“I mean really famous.”

He took a fast survey. “There are lots of people here who are well-known. Senators, members of Congress, business moguls, but I don’t see anybody I’d classify as movie-star famous.” He took a sip of her champagne. “I suppose the most newsworthy person is that little guy over there in the dark suit. The guy with the thick mustache and swarthy complexion. That’s Abdul Rhaman…”

“Abdul Rhaman! I saw his picture in the Post. He’s in town negotiating a trade agreement.”

Steve’s smile was tight. “He’s in town drumming up money to equip an army,” he said quietly. “That’s probably why he’s at this party, and that’s probably the reason for the press contingent. You don’t usually find them at parties like this one.”

Daisy’s eyes grew wide. “I should interview him!”

“What?”

“I have the tape recorder in the car. I could get an interview from him, and we could send it over to the station.”

His protective instincts were screaming to take her home and lock her in a closet, but that wasn’t a viable alternative, he told himself. He looked at her face, flushed with excitement, and knew he couldn’t deny her the interview. Besides, he had to admit, it was a good idea. It didn’t relate to drugs or the Roach, so she wouldn’t be putting herself in any deeper jeopardy. And Abdul would be cooperative. He was trying to pry money out of these people, trying to look civilized. “Okay,” Steve said. “Go for it.”

Daisy belted back the remainder of her champagne, gave Steve a quick kiss on the lips, and whirled off toward the house. She hadn’t gotten her interview with the Roach, but she was going to get Abdul Rhaman—and she was going to do a good job.

She raced through the dining room and the foyer and then stood on the front steps, shielding her eyes from the sun while she searched for Steve’s car. She spotted it parked halfway down the circular drive.