developed an insatiable taste for Bratwurst and Schnitzel over the next week. Or at least, he forced it down while snatching every moment of conversation with Jana that he could. She laughed at his mangled attempts to talk about cars and scuba diving, then sang the praises of her own passion: history. The romantic era, specifically—the first half of the nineteenth century. Beethoven and Chopin, Goya and Delacroix, her obsession with Grimm’s fairy tales.
At work, he made sure to practice his German with colleagues and contractors in a desperate attempt to improve his grasp of a language he’d barely spoken since his time in the Navy SEALs. Back then, he’d spent three months seconded to GSG 9, the German government’s counterterrorism unit, and his translation skills were more suited to the battlefield than the bedroom. That didn’t help him much now. He watched German movies at night, old black-and-white romances and those modern chick flicks women were supposed to love, because sweet talk was what he needed.
Then the following Saturday, he learned the meaning of the word disappointment. A sour-faced matron dumped his dinner on the table and stomped off without a word.
“Hey!”
She turned and glowered at him.
“Where’s Jana?”
“Day off.”
Shit. He was about to leave and find something edible when the object of his desire slid into the seat opposite.
“I thought you weren’t working today?”
She gave him a shy smile. “I’m not. Why do you always eat here? The food’s terrible.”
Okay, time to man up. “I’m not here for the menu.”
Another smile, followed by a glance under her eyelashes. “And I’m not here for the ambience.”
“Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“With you?”
He nodded. “Anywhere you like.”
She took the arm he offered, and he threw a fifty euro note on the table, keeping his fingers crossed it would be the last time he had to look at their sauerkraut. A cab passed as they left the bar, and he flagged it down.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Jana shrugged. “I don’t eat out much. I’m on a student budget.”
“I’ve only eaten two other meals in this city, and they were both in the hotel restaurant.”
“Is it good?”
For the amount it cost, Nick would have been pissed if it wasn’t. “Yeah, it’s good.”
“Then let’s go there.”
They made it through the appetiser and main course, and Nick reckoned he’d done a good job of pretending to be interested in Jana’s history degree when really all he’d done was watch her lips and listen to the sweet timbre of her voice. He’d never thought of German as a sexy language, but her words caused him to rethink.
“Are we having dessert?” she asked.
“Do you want to?”
“I’m full.” She fell silent and Nick waited, sensing she had something else to say. “But I don’t want to go home.”
Thank goodness. His heart leapt, swiftly followed by a tightening sensation across his chest and the front of his pants. Do not fuck this up.
“We can stay as long as you like. We don’t have to eat.”
Jana motioned to the waitress hovering in the corner. “I think she wants to leave. I’ve given that look many times before.”
“There’s a lounge. Why don’t we head there? It’ll be more comfortable as well.”
Nick scribbled for the check as fast as the waitress could bring the pen, looking forward to a cosy sofa rather than the stiff-backed leather chairs in the dining room. Except when they got to the Schumann Lounge, they found a private function in full swing. A gaggle of drunk businessmen clustered around a microphone, murdering something by Britney Spears.
“I doubt they’d notice if we went in...” Nick trailed off as he took in Jana’s disappointment.
“It’s so noisy.”
“My room’s quiet.” Her eyes widened, and he hurriedly backpedalled, cursing his inability to think straight around her. “Sorry, that sounded bad. I meant I’ve got a suite. It has its own lounge, and we could get drinks from room service.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Really?”
A little nod, and Nick’s spirits soared.
Half a dozen partygoers followed them into the elevator, and an overzealous bald dude shoved Jana into Nick. He wasn’t sure whether to punch the asshole or thank him as Jana squashed against his chest. In the end, he settled for sliding an arm around her waist to shield her from the imbeciles.
The rabble got off on the fourth floor as the elevator continued to the penthouse. Far too quickly for Nick’s liking, and it seemed Jana felt the same way because when the doors opened, neither made a move to get out. Instead, they stood