"Michael, I love Victoria Gardens." Eva reached up and bit his ear. "Can we dance in the moonlight?"
"Why not. I think it's romantic as hell." He drew her closer. "Probably shouldn't tell you this, but back in my youth, when I was living in London one summer, I used to take a plump little Irish hotel maid down there. I confess to a series of failed assaults on her well-guarded Catholic virtue."
"Maybe this time your luck will change," she giggled. And she bit him again.
"I'll never be seventeen again, but I'm willing to give it one more try." He turned to study the traffic behind them. Had the play started already?
Yep, there it was. A dark car was following them, had pulled out right behind as they left the restaurant's side street. It was trailing discreetly, but it was in place.
Pretty much on schedule, he told himself. They must have found out by now.
"Darling, I want to make you feel seventeen all over again." She snuggled closer. "I'm starting to feel good again. I'd almost forgot you could do that for me. Thank you."
He kissed her, then leaned forward and spoke through the partition. "See those headlights behind us?"
"I think they were waiting outside, at the restaurant. Noticed them there. Now they look to be going wherever you're going." The burly cabbie glanced into his side mirror. "Friends of yours?"
"In a manner of speaking. I think we've just revised our destination. Make it the Savoy instead. The main entrance there on the Strand."