"Fraulein Schaeffer, hello."
The minute the gentleman came her way, she could tell by the gleam in his gaze that he appreciated the way she looked in the form-fitting gown-an emerald-green taffeta, strapless, backless, and with a slit up the side. As the British ambassador to France, Wilfred Kendall held a very distinguished post here as well as the title of "Sir Wilfred" back home. Of medium height and a bit on the portly side, he possessed rosy features, slate-blue eyes and a shock of snow white hair. Tonight, he wore an impeccable tuxedo with tails and a white silk handkerchief in the breast pocket.
"Ah, Ambassador Kendall, what a pleasure; but I would love it if you would call me Ilsa."
The older man graciously scooped up her hand and deposited a kiss on the top. Her diamond bra
