Silence greeted Jess’s outburst, but Warren’s eyes held hers, locked there, a kind of acquisitive loathing on his face, and the fury she’d felt before twisted into a sharp and painful fear. One day, Captain May, she remembered he’d said. She broke the stare first, her gaze falling away only to land on Emile’s face which was, at that moment, the less malevolent of the two.

Then Sparrow, unable to hold it in anymore, exploded into laughter, setting off each of the other men in turn.

Dan’s voice broke through the noise, silencing it for the most part although the occasional snort of laughter could still be heard. “Sparrow, escort Mr. Stone and his friend back to his jeep. Jennings, take Captain May back to the hospital.”

Oh God, what had she done? Realization hit her with the force of a shell explosion. After inviting her to dinner, she’d repaid Dan by publicly losing her temper and saying things that no woman should ever say aloud. No wonder his mouth was set in a very grim line. No wonder he was sending her off with Jennings. She was mortified but she knew better than to give Warren the satisfaction of looking back over her shoulder at Dan and thus confirming his ridiculous suspicions. Instead, she turned on Emile when they reached the jeeps. “What are you doing here?” she asked, not bothering with ordinary politeness.

“Taking pictures,” he replied. “I know how to do that, remember.”

“I remember,” she said quietly.

She felt nothing for Emile, she realized then, not even a latent fondness for the man who’d been there for her, albeit unwittingly, when her parents died. Not even dislike for the lover who’d turned traitor on her in New York and who was now palling up to a man who wished her ill. Out here in France, beside men who kept soap wrappers in their pockets so they wouldn’t get shot, Emile Robard and Warren Stone were a waste of her time.

Besides, the only thing she could think about on the way to the hospital was Dan’s too-stern face after she’d yelled about sleeping with him at the top of her voice to Warren, ensuring everyone in the vicinity could hear. What would Dan think of her now?

Thirteen

But she had no chance to find out what Dan thought because Rennes was taken soon after and it began again: the pre-D-day sequestering of the women. They were all rounded up, taken out of their hospitals or WAC encampments, a dozen of them, and kept in the custody of Stone and another PRO in a tiny hotel in Rennes until Paris was back in Allied hands and safe. They had to sign in and sign out every day. They had to get a leave pass to have lunch outside the hotel. One of the other female correspondents actually reported two of their number, claiming they’d got away and were making for Paris, which was proved false when they returned to the hotel after the dinner for which they’d been given a pass into town.