“That’s quite ... athletic of you, Nick.”Nick rolled on his side and looked at her. “After all that, it’s the dismount you think is athletic...”Arwen laughed again, rolled and squirmed until she was under the sheet with him. “It was all very impressive, Mr. Coyle.”Nick rolled on his side to smile at her. “Will you stay?”Arwen scooted in closer and made an affirmative sound. As Nick reached out and stroked her hair, she said sleepily. “It’s why I’m here.”Pilar held Lev’s gaze as their bodies moved. "Good evening, Countess," said a pleasant tenor voice, "Allow me to introduce myself, since nobody else has seen fit to do so. I am Crown Prince Mustapha, the eldest son of the Emir. We met once at Stapleford Grange many years ago, while I was still at school."Veronica had only rarely visited her father after his second marriage, but she vaguely remembered an olive-skinned boy resplendent in cricket whites coming in to the Hall after playing at Sandiacre Cricket Club, and the following morning. More

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