ambiguities of what a person might say versus what they actually meant. A simple miscalculation earned one embarrassment or, at the very worst, a cut from the social group. Here it meant death.
Hesitation flickered across Olga’s powdered face. “Kat, I like you very much. I like your young man there. Quite a charmer and worth hanging on to. If I found myself twenty years younger, I’d give you competition for him, though I would lose. His eyes are for you only, I see.” Polishing off her glass, she set it down on the nearby table. She took Kat’s hand and looped it under her arm. “Some days I feel so far from home without a friendly face to warm me, but there is something about you that makes me not so sad. I do hope that we can be friends.”
“I’d like that.”
“Good.” She patted Kat’s hand as the smile slipped from her face. “As your friend, I advise you to keep your sister close. These are dangerous times, and threats often make men do ugly things. Love is the most dangerous weapon of them all.”
The last string of Kat’s calm snapped. Her gaze swung to Eric and slammed into his icy glare. The corner of his mouth pulled back like a tiger with its kill in sight. Barrett was right. Somehow, he’d found out about the tickets. Her fingers dug into Olga’s arm as the room tilted. If he knew about her escape plan to Switzerland, what else had he found out?
A gong sounded, shaking Kat down to her satin-covered feet. Guests started down the hall to the dining room, following the savory smell of roast and gravy and the promise of more wine.
Gently disengaging her hand from Olga’s arm, she corralled all the terror quaking down her body and summoned it into what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Thank you for your concern, dear friend. I shall bear it in mind.”
“I hope you do, my dear. I truly hope you do.” Concern blinked quietly in the actress’s hooded eyes. “If you should ever need a hand, mine is at your disposal.”
Kat fell in line behind the other couples converging into the hall, Olga’s words rattling in her brain like a tin of marbles. The German voices and laughter bounced off the walls and pummeled the cacophony in her head. The air grew thin in her lungs, distorting the shapes around her. She reached a shaking hand out to the wall for support, but instead of finding solid coolness, warmth enveloped her fingers.
“All right, poppy?” Barrett’s voice pulled her back from the dizzying edge as his arm slipped around her waist. Though concerned, his tone was void of the usual affection she’d come to know.
Another fault of hers. She hadn’t wanted to kiss him, but as his lips touched hers she hadn’t been able to stop herself. He had elicited passion from her as easily as plucking a string on a violin, the slumbering chords within her stirring to life under his masterful attention. And then it was over, leaving her cold and confused. And angry. What was she doing giving in to a man who offered her nothing but headaches? Where had her common sense gone? One kiss had drained it from her, leaving nothing more than a fleeting moment of mutual desire.
And yet . . . As much as she tried to justify the moment as a collision of desperate souls seeking reassurance within the darkness, she couldn’t forget his tremble of surprise and longing as her passion surged to meet his.
After avoiding him all day, she’d been forced to sit next to him in the car. Each dip in the road bumped her up against him. He’d stiffened like a board in the wind each time.
“I’m fine, thank you. Too many people in the hall.” She pulled away, not meeting his searching eyes. “Or that fireplace is putting off invisible fumes.”
“Who lights a fire in August?”
She smiled at her echoed words, but the string of tension still vibrated between them. Before she lost her nerve, she broke the silence. “I’m sorry about last night. For taking my frustrations out on you, and for attempting to leave you high and dry. Hardly the honorable actions of a person you’re meant to trust. I broke that trust, and for that I’m truly sorry.”
“I got pretty heated myself. I’m sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that all? I mean, about last night. Uh, is that all