The women were oblivious to everything around them and Dan reached over for the horn. “Glad somebody thinks it’s a day for sightseeing,” he said tetchily.

At the blare of the horn, the women turned and Jess gasped. She pressed her foot to the brake much too quickly and Dan looked across at her quizzically as he was jolted forward. “Jesus, Jess. That’s the kind of thing Jennings would do.”

“Amelia?” Jess called to one of the women who stared at Jess in her helmet, goggles and army uniform and Jess realized where the confusion must lie. She took off her helmet, took off her googles, raked a hand through her hair and smiled. “It’s Jess.”

“Jessica May! I don’t believe it,” Amelia gasped. “Look at you. What are you doing riding around in jeeps with…” She paused and looked over at Dan and simpered in a way Jess remembered from boarding school. “Handsome men.”

The stony look on Dan’s face at the women who were treating Munich like a vacation didn’t soften in the light of Amelia’s smile.

Jess jumped out of the jeep and embraced Amelia, who was wearing stockings of all things, immaculate stockings, unsnagged stockings and Jess couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a pair of legs clad like that in silk. Amelia’s brown hair sat in curls around her shoulders and her ATS hat was perched on top of an enormous and probably stylish, Jess thought wryly—it had been so long since she’d considered style that she really had no idea—Victory roll.

“When did you arrive?” Jess asked. “And since when are you in the ATS?”

“A few days ago,” Amelia said airily. “I wanted to come earlier but thought it best to wait until the danger had all but cleared.”

Jess didn’t have to look behind her to know that Dan was rolling his eyes. She turned to him and said, “Sorry, I’m being rude. Amelia Cosgrove, this is Lieutenant Colonel Dan Hallworth with the U.S. Army.”

Amelia’s smile was beautiful and lipsticked with red and Jess felt another twinge of envy that stockings and cosmetics had become things she barely remembered, that dirt and blood were more her style of decoration and that Amelia was looking at Dan as if she’d like to eat him up.

“Hallworth,” Amelia mused. “Not related to Walter Hallworth by any chance?”

Dan grimaced. “He’s my father.”

It was Jess’s turn to gasp. “You’re Walter Hallworth’s son?” she said incredulously. “You never told me.”

“You never asked. Besides,” he said more quietly, “I liked that you didn’t know.”

Jess could do nothing but stare at him. Walter Hallworth owned one of the largest newspaper companies in Manhattan. And Dan had never once let on, in all the stream of articles and photographs and correspondents he’d seen and met, that he could have been doing something like it too, something safer, rather than putting his body into battle and doing his best to protect his men each and every day.