The Socialite - J'nell Ciesielski Page 0,70

reflection glowed yellow in the glass. “If you kill Hitler, his second in command will simply take his place. You need Hitler, Goebbels, Goring, and Bormann to end the war, and I doubt all four will gather conveniently for you tomorrow around the supper table.”

She was right. Confound the woman. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“I can and will if you get yourself killed for a meaningless chance to take out Hitler.”

“Good thing you’ll be there to stop me.”

She turned away. The silence hit him like a hammer to the gut.

“Still. After all this you plan on handing yourself straight over to the Nazis for interrogation and torture. Then, finally, when they’ve dragged everything out of you except your eyeteeth, they’ll shoot you for spying.” He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her around to face him. “That’s what awaits you with those tickets. But don’t listen to me. Go on and do what you bloody want.”

She twisted against him, but he held tight. “Always about you, isn’t it? I thought you came to help me, or is that too much of a stretch for you? To think about someone other than yourself.”

“I am thinking about you. More than I care to.” Like a barrel with the tap blown off, the admission spewed out with no hope of bottling back the damage. Or the truth. He’d denied it for so long, and now it stared him in the face, forcing him to recognize it for what it was. He wanted her, had wanted her all along, but now it wasn’t the simple desire of a man wanting a woman. He wanted her.

Might as well tie the noose around his own neck. At least the pain of the gallows would be momentary, unlike the burden of needing another heart to beat in unison with his own.

Her lips parted, drawing his attention. Free of lipstick, they glowed a deep rosy pink. One taste, that’s all it would take to prove to himself that she wasn’t anything special. That her desires held no room for him and he could walk away a free man.

Grabbing her other shoulder, he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his as a protest swelled in her throat. She shoved against him, but he held her tight, trapping her hands between them. He tilted his head, coaxing her flattened mouth to form to his. You mean nothing to me. Nothing. He took her anger, burning it into himself as he fell deeper and deeper.

As if sensing his fall, her lips softened to dissolve the last drops of boiling ire. He reared back to break the reaction before he lost complete control of himself. And immediately regretted the action. Full and red, her lips bore the mark of his commanding touch and taunted him to do it again.

“You promised you’d never do that unless there was a Nazi present.” Candlelight drowned in the deep-blue currents of her eyes. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall in headlong without hope of surfacing.

“And you promised to smash a bottle over my head if I did.” He grabbed the champagne bottle from the table, almost wanting her to do it. Anything to break him out of her hold. “It’s not Ballantine’s, but it’ll do the job.”

Taking the bottle, she flung it aside. It shattered against the wall, spraying champagne drops over the floor. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his head down. “Not tonight.”

She met him with urgency, all ties of control and restraint slipping away as she demanded his compliance. Curling his arms around her waist, he gave way with full surrender to the heat purling in his veins. Her fingers coiled in his hair, lighting his scalp with a fire that burned down his neck and winged across his chest. Dizziness swirled in his head, leaving him without a tether save her. He clung tight to keep from losing her and drifting back into his bleak darkness.

With one gentle sigh against his mouth, the reins tumbled from his fingers into hers. He pulled her closer, willing her heart’s rhythm to overtake his own and never let go.

Knock, knock. The door flung open and bounced off the wall. Ellie flew in, tying a belt around the waist of her satin robe. “Kat, are you—” She skidded to a halt, eyes wide and mouth dropping open as her stare bounced back and forth between them. “The lights went out, and we heard a noise.”

Eric hurtled in with hair mussed. His white shirt was

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