"Making love to me is not part of your job." That was fifty million bucks in Uncle Sam's best gold talking to me. That was Sylvia Ryan. A beautiful, uninhibited twenty-one-year-old heiress who'd eloped with the family chauffeur when she was sixteen and was married to a phony count at eighteen. That was my boss, too. Sylvia Ryan, the only girl on an all-male expedition to the South Seas.

I was being paid two hundred dollars a day plus expenses for a particularly dirty job and I'd be lucky if I came out of it alive.

Pretty little bundles of sex like Sylvia Ryan didn't bother me at all.

Or so I told myself...