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faraway look, the kind I should be getting used to by now,' she said. 'You weren't just day-dreaming.'
        'No, just thinking back.'
        'It's in the past and best kept that way, Jon.'
        He nodded, unable to explain it to himself. Unsure of the creeping uneasiness he had felt since the nightmare two weeks ago.
        She rested her folded arms on the table. 'Hey, you haven't given me an answer yet.' She frowned at his puzzled expression. 'My dinner invitation: you haven't said you'll come.'
        'Do I have a choice?' For the moment the bad thoughts had retreated, vanquished by Amy's wickedly innocent smile.
        'Of course. You can either accept or be deported. Daddy hates bad manners.'
        'And we all know his influence in the States' affairs.'
        'Precisely.'
        'Then I'll come.'
        'How sensible.'
        'How much coaxing did your mother have to do?'
        'Not much. She relied on threats.'
        'Hard to imagine your father being afraid of anybody.'
        'You don't know Mother. She may seem all sweetness and light on the surface, but there's a hidden streak of steel underneath it all that frightens even me sometimes.'
        'At least it's nice to know she likes me.'
        'Oh, I wouldn't go that far. Let's just say she's not totally against you.'
        He laughed quietly. 'I'm really looking forward to the evening.'
        'You know, I think she's quite intrigued by you. A darkly attractive man with a shady past, and all that.'
        For a moment, Childes looked down into his beer. 'Is that how she sees my past?' he asked.
        'She thinks you're mysterious and she likes that.'
        'And dear Daddy?'
        'You're not good enough for his daughter, that's all.'
        'You sure?'
        'No, but it's not important. He respects my feelings, though, and I haven't disguised how I feel about you. Pig-headed as he is sometimes, he would never hurt me by going against you.'
        Childes wished he could be sure. The financier's hostility on the few occasions they had met was barely masked. Perhaps he didn't like divorces; or perhaps he distrusted anyone who did not conform to his own standards, his perception of 'normality'.
        In danger of becoming too serious again, Childes asked with a grin, 'Do I need a dinner suit?'
        'Well, one or two of his business associates have been invited -and that includes a member of La Roche's governing body and his wife, incidentally - so nothing too informal. A tie would be nice.'
        'And I thought the soiree was for my benefit.'
        'Your being there is for my benefit.' She looked intently at him. 'It may seem a trivial thing, but it means a lot to have you with me. I don't know why there's this antagonism between you and my father, Jon, but it's unnecessary and destructive.'
        'There's no animosity from me, Amy.'
        'I know that. And I'm not asking you to bend his way. I just want him to see us together at a normal gathering, to let him see how well we go together.'
        He could not help chuckling and she gave him a reproving look. 'I know what you're thinking and I didn't mean that. I'm still his little girl, remember.'
        'He'd never understand how much of a woman you are.'
        'He doesn't have to. I'm sure he doesn't imagine I'm still as pure as driven snow, though.'
        'I wouldn't be too sure. Such things are hard enough for any doting father to face.' The intimacy of their conversation charged his body with a flush of pleasure and he felt good with her, warm in her presence. It was the same for Amy, for her smile was different, not secretive but knowing, and her pale green eyes were lit with an inner sharing. She looked away and gently whirled the melting ice in her glass, watching the clear, rounded cubes as if they held some meaning. Conversations from other tables drifted in the air, occasionally punctuated by soft laughter. An