Jess knew they were teasing her, knew that if nothing had happened in Paris with Dan, she’d laugh and move the conversation on to something else, that she wouldn’t feel the horrible fist in her stomach as she lied. “Dan is my friend, and Lee’s right. I don’t gossip about him. In fact,” she said to Amelia, although it hurt a little to say it, “you seem to know more about some parts of his life than I do. I had no idea he was Walter Hallworth’s son.”

“He kept that one a closely guarded secret,” Lee said, helping herself to the schnapps. “Wonder why he didn’t just join the press?” She sighed. “So he’s rich and handsome. Guess I’ll have to try harder with the prising next time.”

“You might have more competition now,” Amelia said with a grin that clearly indicated her own interest.

“Aren’t you in mourning for your husband?” Jess asked.

“Mourning,” Amelia scoffed. “Nobody mourns anymore. We’d never do anything else given how often people die lately.”

Jess flinched but it was true. Mourning had become an outdated custom when, every second of every day, there was a dead body to weep for.

“I just have to work out when I can see him again,” Amelia continued. “You won’t mind helping me, will you, Jess? Seeing’s how you and he are just friends.”

Amelia eyed Jess as if daring her to contradict her words. And Jess knew she couldn’t, because what if to admit out loud that she and Dan were…She cut off the thought.

Thankfully, Lee saved her by pointing to the doorway. “Your puppy dog’s here,” she said.

Jess turned to see Jennings gesturing to her. “I’ve got to run,” she said, leaping up gratefully.

The note Jennings passed her was cryptic but she dashed off, showered and changed into her pinks. Then Jennings drove her to a house she wasn’t familiar with, near Prinzregentenplatz.

“You’re needed in there,” he said, indicating the house, the flush on his face betraying just who was inside.

“Thank you,” Jess said, squeezing his hand. “I know it’s not your job to escort your CO’s girlfriend to secret trysts.”

“He deserves it,” Jennings said shyly, hero worship for Dan as plain in his eyes as the freckles on his face.

As Jennings drove off, Jess pulled open the door and drew in a breath. It was magical. Dan had somehow found old hurricane lamps to soften the air of abandonment in the house, and he looked up from lighting the last of them to smile at her. The minute he did, she leapt into his arms, kissing him, then tearing at his clothes, wanting to feel him beneath her palms, and he tugged at the buttons on her blouse too, undid her skirt, unhooked her bra and when at last they were naked, he placed both his hands on her breasts and began to circle his palms against her nipples, while her hands traveled down over his belly.