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of the UN Security Unit under conditions of strict secrecy doesn’t sound too promising – something’s gone drastically wrong, by the looks of it…
    She was staring at him now with that considering look that he had come to associate with her wanting to ask him an awkward question that he might not want to answer and the thought occurred to him that they had spent virtually all of the last twenty-four hours together – she had not slept, either, although this was usual during the early days of revival, apparently. In that time, he had learned to read her expressions pretty well, but, despite this, he realised he knew almost nothing about her –
Call yourself a policeman?
‘Go on, Ilona – ask your question,’ he said, gently.
    A momentary expression of surprise crossed her face, then she nodded. ‘Some day, will you tell me what this
was
all about?’
    â€˜If I can, yes.’
    â€˜Thanks… Another question – is it OK if I grab a meal for myself as well? It’s either that or go and eat alone. This’ll be the last meal I have for another two hundred and fifty years, so – well – I’d rather eat it in company. If that’s OK.’
    â€˜Of course you can. I’d hate to eat alone as well.’
    Again, she gave him
that
look, then said, softly, ‘And would you seriously object if I spent the night here as well?’ She shrugged, a teasing smile on her face. ‘The same reason – this’ll be my last chance for two and a half centuries, after all.’
    He stared at her, not so much for her directness –
let’s face it, women have had equality in that respect for decades now –
but for the realisation that, somehow, he had
known
that she was going to make the offer – had known ever since they had arrived in his quarters, in fact.
    How?
    And this was hardly the time to be looking gift horses in the mouth… ‘Well, as I’m still under your supervision, I suppose you’ll have to…’

    *****

    â€˜Oh God, yes…’ she whispered, hoarsely, her hips moving rapidly to and fro now in an uncontrollable rhythm, ‘Yes... just like that, yes...’ She was straddling him, staring intently down at him until, suddenly, she gave a strangled cry and fell forward onto him, clutching frantically at his shoulders as he thrust urgently up into her, her climax triggering his and –
Anji…
    Anji?
    Who the… Don’t say it!
    He only just managed not to gasp out the name as he emptied himself into the woman above him –
Ilona, her name’s Ilona, for Christ’s sake –
and simply held her close, nuzzling her ear and stroking her hair as their movements gradually subsided…
Anji? Who the hell was Anji?
    â€˜Chris…’ she breathed into his shoulder, still holding on tightly to him, but then she lifted her head and smiled into his eyes. ‘Wow…’ she said, dreamily. ‘I think I can safely say that you are fully recovered, Inspector. I can personally vouch for that.’
    â€˜Takes two to tango,’ he said, still slightly breathless, touching her gently on the cheek. ‘You were terrific, Ilona. Many thanks.’
    â€˜The best in eighty-odd years, you mean?’ she asked, grinning.
    â€˜Oh, yes, definitely,’ he chuckled.
But that hadn’t been with anyone called Anji, had it? It was Livvy – Olivia – wasn’t it?
    Wasn’t it?
    â€˜And for me.’ She kissed him briefly on the lips, then lifted herself away from him and off the bed. ‘Won’t be a minute,’ she said, over her shoulder and headed for the bathroom.
    Vinter watched her slim figure until she slid the door closed behind her, then lay back, smiling to himself, but the grin faded as he recalled the name that had come into his head:
Anji.
    He didn’t know any Anjis – or Angelas, for that matter – well, OK, there’d