their technical prowess. Why do they think it impresses us when all we’d like is a compliment, a few jewels, and a helping hand with the dishes?”
“I’ll take the compliments over jewels any day.”
“Tut-tut, liebling Kat. Jewels last longer than a compliment and are always sincere, dear. Never forget that.” Olga’s deep red lips dipped into a smile as she turned her attention to Barrett. “If I guess correctly that you are the owner of this establishment, will you recite Burns for me in that brogue that I find oh so charming with Scotsmen?”
Heat flushed up Barrett’s neck at her brazen request. “I am the owner, but I’m verra sorry tae say I’ve no’ much learning with Burns, ma’am.”
Olga squealed with delight at his put-on accent. “Positively charming. I do love men with strong accents. Makes me feel like they truly stand for something. How lucky you are to find such a charmer, my dear.”
Kat shook her head in wonderment. “Sometimes I simply don’t know what to do with so much charm.”
“Lock him down before some other girl comes by to snatch him up. Now, Eric, dear, don’t look so put out. You’re as charming as Mr. Anderson here, just in a more Teutonic way.” She grabbed Eric’s hand and pulled him to the dance floor. “Stop holding up the wall and twirl me around. Tell me all about my beloved Adolf. I’m thinking of traveling to Bavaria to see him soon.”
Barrett watched with amusement as Olga draped one of her fringed arms over Eric’s shoulder to show him the proper steps. She counted in Russian. “Quite a friend you’ve made there.”
Kat clasped her hands and pressed them to her cheek. “I’m verra sorry, lad. I couldna hear ye over mae rolling r’s and charming smiles sure tae make a lass weak in the knees.”
“Come on. It’s not that thick.”
Her hands dropped to her hips, her eyebrow spiking in challenge. “Oh, perhaps ye put it on a wee thick for Frau Chekhova. Am I tae be jealous, then?”
“You’re throwing in a wee bit of Aberdeen when you know very well I’m from Glasgow. Get your particulars straight, woman.”
“So sorry.”
“You’ll be sorry all right when I step on your feet for this waltz.”
The waltz was another propaganda take on “You’re Driving Me Crazy,” but thankfully Sam opted not to sing the words of hatred to Britain. Kat fell easily into Barrett’s embrace as he swept them around the floor. Without prompting, she followed his lead as if each step were a continuation of his own. As if an invisible string tied them together, they each shifted to follow the slightest vibration of the other.
“Have I told you how splendid you look tonight?”
“You can ease up. No one can hear you over Sam’s trumpet.”
His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. “I mean it, poppy.”
“Thank you.” She ducked her head as pink blossomed across her cheeks. “Certainly better than hearing I’m like a patch of grass after a long flight.”
“That’s one I’ve never heard.”
Her head popped back up, angling closer to his. “Bet you didn’t hear that the Luftwaffe are going to hit Moscow hard in the next few days, or that Hitler has ordered paperwork outlining a final solution for the Jews.”
Chills sprayed down his spine. “‘Final solution.’ What does that mean?”
“Not sure, but they seemed awfully giddy about the prospects.” She paused as Olga and Eric spun past. “There are also rumors about edging into open waters to see what the Americans will do.”
“Blast them out of the water, most likely. You did a great job getting this information. Command will be thrilled.” As much as he hated this spy business, at least they were getting vital information to those who needed it. All the sooner to finish off these murdering Nazis.
“Hate for them to think I’m falling down on the job.” She shrugged. “Besides, drunks are only too eager to please when you show interest. I merely smiled and laughed when they wanted me to.”
Dutiful to a fault. Had she ever stepped a toe out of line without obtaining permission first? “A man doesn’t need drink to fall for that.”
“Your flattery is on a roll tonight. Careful you don’t overdo it and regret it come morning.”
His eyes dropped to her full mouth. It begged for his attention, to savor the softness and linger over the gentle curves. Forbidden fruit ripe for the picking. How much more would he regret come morning? “It hasn’t been so bad, has it?