ENGELBERT Humperdinck fans must be distraught. They can still throw their knickers at him during his concerts but are no longer invited on stage to be serenaded and kissed by the sideburned sex-god of easy listening.

The Hump, as he is also known, introduced a 'no-kissing' rule after one adoring female planted him one on the lips and gave him a nasty viral infection, he says, which damn near killed him.

He is dressed top to toe in denim and wears shades, gold rings and a thick, gold chain bracelet. He's still got the trademark sideburns and there's not a trace of grey in his black hair, which he admits is entirely down to hair dye.

At 68, Enge, as he is known to his friends, has led a life of wine, women and song - probably more women than hit records, although his singing career has made him a multi-millionaire - while his adultery has provided much fodder for the tabloids.

He admits his numerous infidelities, including two paternity settlements (some reports state he's slept with 3,000 women, although he says that's wildly exaggerated) in his autobiography, Engelbert: What's In A Name?. His wife of 40 years, Patricia, has written a chapter charting various humiliating incidents.

Once, at a big dinner event, he put his hand up a pretty girl's skirt as she walked by, in full view of Patricia. Another time, he instigated a row with his wife on holiday in Spain so he would have an excuse to visit a girlfriend.

Engelbert admits he felt terrible after reading his wife's contribution to his autobiography. ''I felt pretty damned awful, actually. But I thought it was very brave of her to get it off her chest. The funny thing is, we have become much closer since everything has been out in the open.''

Patricia writes of their lack of communication and his refusal to apologise, but she says she doesn't want pity.

Engelbert says: ''If she'd wanted, she could have left me a long time ago. Forgiveness is one of the greatest things you can give to anyone.''

Cynics might conclude that Patricia didn't want to let go of all the trappings they have enjoyed from his successful singing career. But that success was a long time coming.

Soon realising he wanted to be a singer, the lad from Leicester struggled for years under the name of Gerry Dorsey, until his manager suggested he use the name of the German composer, Engelbert Humperdinck.

From there, his career took off, with hits including Release Me, The Last Waltz and There Goes My Everything.

He regrets not seeing his four children grow up because of his life on the road, but reflects that after all those lean years, he wasn't going to turn down work.

''The first ten years of my career were insecure. I had the feeling it might end at any time.''

He says his children don't bear him any malice for his adultery. ''My children have dealt with it all their lives. It was harder on my sisters and my brothers. They didn't expect their young brother to be that promiscuous and mischievous.''

Nor have his children asked him about his womanising. ''They may have discussed it with their mother but they never discussed it with me. I have extreme respect for my children and in turn they have the same respect for me that I did for my parents,'' he says.

Engelbert left England in the '70s for tax reasons and set up home in Los Angeles, where his career in the US took off. He bought the Pink Palace, the former home of Rudolf Valentino and then Jayne Mansfield, and became a leading light in the cabaret scene, along with Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin.

He has since sold the Hollywood mansion and bought a more modest property in LA, and he has a manor house near Leicester.

He could have hung up his microphone years ago, but chooses not to. Last year he played 140 dates and he's planning another 17 concerts here in February. ''I do need to work. I'm a creative person. If I retired, what would I do?''

* (Engelbert: What's In A Name?) by Engelbert Humperdinck with Katie Wright (Virgin) £18.99