landing to scream, and you would be dead right now.”
“If you hadn’t made such a ruckus while following me, I likely wouldn’t have picked up a tail.”
“You don’t know that,” she said, even as the truth of that twisted in her chest.
“You endangered a lot of people tonight, Virginia. That no one died is a miracle.”
“But what about the man—”
“He was an enemy agent. As was the man in the stairwell. So I don’t count them.”
“Oh.” Her breathing constricted. Not because she regretted their deaths, per se. There was a war going on, after all, and both men had tried to kill the sergeant. But the matter-of-fact way the sergeant mentioned it, as if the men’s deaths were of no significance, struck her as somehow wrong.
“Hey.” He lifted her chin and looked directly into her eyes. “I couldn’t let them live. You know that, right? If either agent had gotten away, a lot more people would have been killed later. Good people. People on our side.”
“I . . . I know. It’s just . . . well, it’s hard knowing you were the one who did it.”
“Should I not have?”
She hesitated, not sure. She had always hated Tony for being so cavalier about life and death, for killing people just because someone had deemed them a threat to the family. To be faced with the fact that the sergeant had likely killed so many more men, also deemed threats, only this time to the Allied cause . . . Did that make them the same?
No. Whatever the sergeant was, he wasn’t Tony. Somehow she knew in her bones that Sergeant Danger was a good man caught in an awful situation.
She gently touched her fingers to his jaw, wishing she could have met him in a different time, in a different place, untouched by war. “You’re right. You did what had to be done. And I’m sorry.”
A beat passed, and then he exhaled. “Let’s get you back. I think we’ve both had enough excitement for one day.”
She huffed a soft laugh and reluctantly dropped her fingers from his face. “Roger that.”
A companionable silence surrounded them as they started down the street. A curiously relaxed feeling settled over her, as if the dangers of the last hour hadn’t happened. As if facing them down, with the help of the man by her side, had made her somehow invincible. With new eyes she took in the ancient buildings and narrow streets.
“How is it you’re not lost?” she asked as he turned them onto another street. “Have you spent a lot of time in Rome?”
“No. But I’m good with maps, mental or otherwise. Before the war, I was a surveyor.”
“Really?” She laughed. “And here I thought you were a bank president.”
He slid her an amused look. “I’d have to work in a city for that, and I don’t like cities.”
“So, a surveyor, huh?” She followed him into a quiet plaza that looked vaguely familiar. “I bet the army was happy about that.”
“The army? Nah, they didn’t care. They put me in the infantry, where I could work on my hand-to-hand combat skills.”
“But wait—if you’re in the infantry, why are you in Rome?” she asked, surprised.
“Because I am.” It was clear from his tone that he was done with questions, which was fine. Vi had her answer on whether Marcie was in danger. With that worry removed, anything else she learned merely iced the cake. Another turn, and she started recognizing stores and landmarks despite the dark.
“We’re almost at the hotel,” she exclaimed, relief lifting her spirits.
“We are.” The sergeant’s grim tone reminded her that his evening had been decidedly less successful.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” she said, meaning it. “And I’m sorry you had to ruin your trousers. You won’t get in trouble, will you?”
“No. Uniforms tend to get ruined when there’s a war going on.” He slid her a questioning look. “Speaking of which, where’s yours?”
“My . . . ?” Her hands flew to the lapels of her borrowed coat as sudden dread washed over her. “Oh, Lord. My uniform is at the theater. I was in such a rush to follow you, I never changed.”
“Guess you’ll have to get it tomorrow.”
She pulled him to a stop. “But I need to wash my blouse tonight.”
He held up his hand to quiet her protest. “I’m not taking you back to the theater, period. It’s already past your curfew.”
“But—”
“I said no, Virginia.”
The sudden steel in his voice brought her up short. All of a sudden, the