Victoria and Ivan were leaving the next day for Virgin Gorda, revisiting the site where they'd met and first fallen in love. Most of the time they spent together - not involving work type activities - was spent in warm and sunny climes, which made going out together here in London all the more special, she decided. If the new head of Six had a problem with a former double 0 being escorted to a party by one of the, now defunct, KGB's stars, she was more than willing to explain the Cold War was over in a very double 0 way.

She wouldn't have dreamt of wearing one of those sweaters people seemed to enjoy inflicting on each other these days, but she'd left her usual monochrome looks behind for a top and skirt in shades of red and burgundy, with a moss-green cashmere cardigan. The color in her cheeks when she stepped off the dance floor wasn't from exertion, but the joy of dancing with Ivan and the sweet talk and devotion she'd hardly admit to enjoying as much as she did. He'd be completely incorrigible if she encouraged him even once. She watched him as he went to the bar to get them drinks, and laughed softly at herself. To think 004 had had a reputation as an ice queen throughout her career.