signaling he’d caught her staring. “Something on your mind?”
“How did you fall into this line of work?” A man shrouded in mystery was overrated. The more she wondered about him meant the more she thought about him. Not a habit she wanted to pick up, but she was already failing miserably at that.
“That is a long and unfortunately boring story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“No. We don’t.” A smooth smile eased over his face as one eye flashed in a wink. “Maybe later, darlin’.”
“Caught you hiding in the shadows.” Ellie’s voice rustled through the leaves like a bird’s cheep. “Hope you weren’t doing anything I wouldn’t.”
Kat strolled out to the open lawn and joined Ellie and Eric by the pool. Barrett followed steps behind her. “What does that leave out?”
Ellie laughed and flapped a paper fan in front of her pink cheeks. “Not much.”
Even with the bright sun glaring down, Eric wasn’t bothered to blink. “How nice of you to join us, Mr. Anderson.”
Barrett’s arm brushed Kat’s sleeve, his presence as solid as the statues surrounding them. “I was surprised to get the invitation, but I’m glad I did.”
“So you’ve enjoyed the art and sculptures?”
Barrett shoved his hands into his pockets. The lean muscles in his forearms twisted. “Frankly, I respect the talent to create them, but don’t get into the deep meaning behind each brushstroke or why a statue is standing a certain way.”
Eric’s blond eyebrow twitched. “A pity for you to waste your afternoon, then.”
“Wouldn’t say that. I’ll never turn down the opportunity to get outside. One of the downsides of running a business is that you don’t get out much.”
“Ja, that is a problem when all the people come to you.” When Barrett didn’t take the bait, Eric turned to Kat. “And you, Miss Whitford. Did you enjoy the art?”
“The lines are very modern, to the point of rawness. My old-fashioned senses crave something a little . . . softer.”
Eric snorted. “That sounds like those frivolous Romantic notions.”
“Frivolous or not, they proved fascinating to study at university. Friedrich. And Leighton, though he wasn’t strictly Romantic.” Kat tilted her head, blocking the late afternoon sun with the brim of her straw hat. “My professors were so rigid about what we studied. I thoroughly enjoyed having my horizons broadened today. Thank you, Major.”
Delighted surprise lit his face, and his chest swelled. “It was my pleasure, Miss Whitford.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Can it not be ‘Kat’ and ‘Eric’?” Ellie hooked her arms through each of theirs and turned to the gate. “If we’re to be a jolly party—and I intend for nothing less—then no more of this stuffiness. Gives me a headache, and I won’t abide it when I’m with my two favorite people in all of the world. I’m sorry for not including you in that, Barrett, but I’m sure you’ll earn the right soon enough.”
“That is my greatest hope.”
At Barrett’s sideways wink, Kat dropped Ellie’s arm and stepped back in pace with him. “Your cheekiness is going to get us caught.”
“If it’s not worth going all out for, then it’s not worth the attempt.” Ducking through the short doorway that connected the garden to the street, he blocked her exit as Ellie and Eric stepped out to the corner to hail a taxi. “Whether you like it or not, we’re stuck together for a while, so why not make it a little fun?”
“There’s nothing fun about Russian roulette.”
“Right about that. Unless you’re the one holding the bullet, and it just so happens I am.”
Panic flaring, Kat scanned his sides and hips for a bulge. Ridiculous. He wouldn’t hide a gun in such a predictable place. “What bullet are you talking about?”
He dropped his lips to brush against her ear. “Me. The Germans have never met a player like me. My game, my rules, my ending.”
“Your arrogance knows no bounds, does it?”
“None that I’m aware of.” He hovered close to her neck. “You smell nice. Like flowers.”
Kat flushed. “We’re in a garden.”
“No. It’s you.” Pushing back the door, he stepped aside and let her pass.
The fragrant quietness of the garden fled at the onslaught of the bustling street outside. Exhaust choked the air as autos rolled by. Rifled soldiers shouted at schoolboys kicking a can against the side of a building while working men and grocery-carrying women hurried along never daring to raise their eyes from the ground.
Clustered together on the curb sat three children with worn baskets at their feet. Faded clothes clung to their stooped shoulders, and dust covered their