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a threat analyst. Spent all day looking at the Soviets, and saying: “They’re a threat”.’
    Tony laughed, edging down the sofa.
    ‘I don’t need a man to look after me,’ said Cameron defensively. ‘Just someone to make the sparks fly. If I’m not having a good time, I quit. Are you happily married?’
    ‘Not overwhelmingly.’
    ‘She a dog?’
    ‘Not at all. It’s a marriage of extreme public convenience. We get on very well when we don’t see too much of each other. ‘
    This girl is exactly what I need to wake them all up at Corinium, he was thinking. She’s superbright, ambitious, aggressive. The IBA would adore the deb programme, it had quality and universal appeal; and being a woman, Cameron would appeal to the incoming chairman, Lady Gosling. Even more important, from the way she had carved up Simon Harris’s treatment, she was capable of seeing what was wrong with a programme and subtly gearing it towards the American market without making it too bland. And finally, as she had a British passport, there wouldn’t be the usual ghastly hassle about work permits.
    ‘How’d you like to work in England?’
    ‘How much?’
    ‘Thirty grand.’
    ‘You’ve got to be joking. I’m on a hundred thousand dollars here.’
    ‘It’s cheaper living in England, and we could pick up a few bills.’
    ‘I’d have to have somewhere to live,’ said Cameron, thinking longingly of the honey-coloured houses she’d seen on the video.
    ‘We can arrange that.’
    ‘If I’m stuck in the country, I’ll need a car.’
    ‘Of course.’
    For a minute she glared at him. ‘How soon do I get on the Board?’
    ‘Cameron,’ said Tony gently, ‘I’m the boss of Corinium. I decide that.’
    ‘I’ll kick it around,’ she said indifferently. ‘You’d better sleep with me first.’
    Not by a flicker did Tony’s swarthy face betray his surprise.
    ‘Why? D’you think afterwards I might not want to offer you the job?’
    Cameron smiled for the first time that evening. ‘No, I might not want to take it.’
    Even in the bedroom she didn’t stop fighting, promptly switching on the television.
    ‘God is love,’ a lady in a shirtwaister, with very long royal blue eyelashes, was saying, ‘not a guy with a stick; He wants us all to enjoy ourselves.’
    ‘And so say all of us,’ said Cameron.
    Tony turned off the television and, with remarkably steady hands, removed her huge earrings, and massaged the reddened lobes.
    ‘D’you get a good satellite picture from these?’
    There wasn’t much else to take off. Just the yellow dress and a pair of yellow pants. Tony never dreamed that anyone with such a sinewy, well-muscled body could have such a smooth skin.
    ‘Those Y-fronts went out with the ark,’ said Cameron, throwing them in the wastepaper basket. ‘I’m going to buy you some boxer shorts.’
    Bearing in mind that it was eight o’clock in the morning in England, Tony thought he acquitted himself with honours.
    ‘Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,’ sang Cameron as she finally climbed off him.
    ‘Still fighting the American War of Independence,’ murmured Tony into her shoulder.
    But just as he was falling asleep, he realized she was rigid and shuddering beside him. Reaching down, he found her hand in her bush.
    ‘I thought you’d come as well,’ he said, outraged.
    ‘If you figured that, Buster, you’ve got a lot to learn.’
    ‘Come here, you bitch.’
    Tugging away her hand, he knelt over her, kissing her navel, then very slowly progressing downwards. Lying on the floor, tangled in each other’s arms, they were interrupted much later by the telephone.
    It was Corinium’s sales director, Georgie Baines.
    ‘I thought you’d like the monthly revenue figures, Tony. I didn’t wake you?’
    ‘I’ve been up for hours.’
    ‘You can say that again,’ said Cameron, wriggling out from under him.
    ‘They’re up four million on last year,’ said Georgie jubilantly. For five