“Yes, but it has to stay that way. There’s always competition.”
Simon could appreciate that. He was curious. He had been very casual all the time about the whole organisation and mechanics of the ménage, as casual as Pellman himself, but there just wasn’t any way to stop wondering about the details of a set-up like that. The Saint put it in the scientific category of post-graduate education. Or he was trying to.
He said, leading her on with a touch so light and apparently disinterested that it could have been broken with a breath: “It must be quite a life.”
“It is.”
“If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it was really possible.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just something out of this world.”
“Sheiks and sultans do it.”
“I know,” he said delicately. “But their women are brought up differently. They’re brought up to look forward to a place in a harem as a perfectly normal life. American girls aren’t.”
One of her eyebrows went up a little in a tired way.