. there was email poking out from under a browser, just maybe an inch. I did a double take, and a cold dry hand gripped my heart and squeezed. What li...tle I could see said, "Your Princess & your Cock Worshiper."I'm not sure how we got home. I do rememeber that at Emmie's request, we went through a fast food window and picked up some sandwiches and soft drinks. The rest of the trip home was a blur, but there I was in my bedroom, peeling off my cold, sticky, damp boxer shorts. The aroma of stale. And then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a voice I knew from somewhere said:“Carstairs! How was your flight?”I turned round and saw Miles Bamford standing there, dressed in casual slacks and an alarmingly green polo-neck shirt. His arms were tanned, as was his face. Miles was on the board of directors at Aston Martin and the only time we had seen each other was here, in Doha. I’m not sure if I’d have recognized him in any other context.I shook his hand, but I wanted to keep this short. He was. More

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