The morning air was crisp as she floated down the front steps on Karl’s arm. She’d spent plenty of time outdoors in Hochland Home’s courtyards—the daily schedule demanded it—but today was Allina’s first time in four months outside the compound. The freedom was exhilarating.
She gasped when they stopped in front of an extravagant convertible with an impossibly long hood. It was neither silver nor gold, but a gorgeous alloy somewhere between. Allina peeked through the window, shaking her head in amazement at the red leather interior and an instrument panel that looked to be inlaid with mother-of-pearl. “I’ve never seen a car so beautiful.”
Karl responded with a crooked smile. “I know it’s ridiculous, but I love her,” he said, running his hand over the hood. “This beautiful lady is a 1937 Mercedes-Benz 540K. Only a few hundred of this model were made. I’m lucky to have her.” He opened the passenger door. “We should go. Everyone’s watching.”
She glanced back at the house to find a dozen noses pressed to the front window. Sabine and Rilla were all grins and enthusiastic waves, but Berta’s lips were pursed in a lemony pucker. She gave them all a merry wave before sliding into the car.
Karl took off with a screech of tires that left gravel spitting in their wake. By the faint narrowing of his eyes, Allina wondered if he was showing off, or at least trying to give the ladies at the window a thrill.
“Are you warm enough?” he shouted over the engine’s roar. “We can stop and put the top up. I have another scarf if you need one.”
Allina tugged the knitted navy cap on loan from Rilla down over her ears. “I’m fine,” she yelled, loving the wind against her cheeks. The curve of the seat was bliss against her spine and the air smelled like rain and damp earth. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Starnberg,” he said. “My home’s just outside Munich. I’ve got a private office there.”
The hard line of his jaw was outlined against the heather gray of the pre-dawn sky. Allina became conscious of his body and his wide hands, competent and in control, gripping the steering wheel.
Her eyes fell to his shirt collar. “You’re not in uniform,” she blurted. Dressed in a camel wool overcoat, charcoal trousers, and a plain white shirt—and without a tie—the man seemed different. Less severe. Years younger.
He glanced over and grinned again. “I thought you’d prefer me in civilian clothes.”
Allina shoved her hands into her coat pockets and glanced away.
“Your face always betrays your emotions,” he said. “My uniform unnerves you, and I’m sorry for it. I hoped to spare you that today.”
Allina nodded but didn’t reply, and Karl seemed content to leave it at that. The wind didn’t allow for much conversation, so she took the hour’s drive to settle into the idea of being alone with him. They’d been careful for weeks, always speaking in whispers and meeting outside to keep from being overheard. Now she and Karl would have a whole day together, and at least the morning by themselves. In his home. She leaned back against the leather seat and closed her eyes, determined not to think. As the minutes passed, the engine’s hum did its work and lulled her.
When the vehicle slowed, she opened her eyes to a charming sight. A whitewashed house built in chalet style stood at the end of a long, winding path. It was well proportioned, and the oak balconies and evergreen detail along the gently sloping roof looked freshly painted. Two bunches of fir trees flanked the building.
Karl parked in front of the house and leaped out of his seat. “This was my family’s summer home,” he said, running around to her side to open the door.
Allina didn’t know what to say to that, so she followed him in silence as their heels crunched in the gravel. When they got to the front door, she cocked her head at the sign hanging over it. “Sonnenblumen Haus?” she asked.
“My grandmother named it,” he said, pointing around the side of the house. “We call it the Sunflower House because the side yard explodes with sunflowers in spring and summer.” He opened the door. “Come inside.”
The front parlor was bright and scrupulously clean. Thick emerald velvet drapes were drawn open, allowing the huge windows to flood the room with light. The honey-colored floors and ceiling beams gleamed with polish. She loved the crisp, whitewashed walls, which were mostly free of adornment, although a bold oil landscape of the German countryside hung above a fireplace on the far side of the room. The lines of the pine furniture were neat and utilitarian, but there were splashes of ruby and marigold in the cushion coverings and pillows.
The room was exactly like him. Strong, unpretentious, intensely masculine, and a far cry from the crammed fussiness of Hochland Home. It was also a comfortable, lived-in space. While the carpets were Persian and most of the furniture antique, everything bore a gently worn patina of use.
He led her through the dining room to the den, which was much more like a conference room than a personal office. Eight brown leather chairs surrounded a massive oak table in the center. Two tall metal shelves stocked with paper and office supplies took up a good portion of one of the walls, and between the shelves was a sideboard with three typewriters on it. Above the sideboard was a huge window. On the left was an antique hunter’s cuckoo clock, its engraved leaves painted in deep green and gold. On the right hung a painting of Adolf Hitler—the standard one found in nearly every home of an unsmiling Führer in a light brown suit. The other three walls were covered, floor to ceiling, by oak shelves stuffed with books of every size and color. They filled the den with the sweet scent of old paper and ink, and she blinked back tears. The room smelled like home.
Karl unbuttoned his overcoat and tossed it over a chair. “My house meets with your approval?”
“The simplicity suits you.” She tossed her files on the table.
Karl’s answering bark of laughter was a surprise. His face softened, and the fine lines around his eyes eased. He was relaxed here, completely disarmed.
“I’ll take your coat,” he said, hurrying over. When his hands settled on her shoulders, Allina froze. His hands were warm through the thick fabric, and she fumbled like a child with the buttons. When she handed it over, he took the coat without a word.
With her gaze still trained on the carpet, she tugged off her hat.
“Your hair.” He spoke those two words in a whisper, and when she risked a glance up, his eyes were locked on her face.
“It’s Rilla’s doing,” she blurted. Self-conscious, her hand went to her nape. Rilla had begged to style her hair this morning and managed to fashion an intricate coronet of golden braids around her head. It was an old-fashioned look, one Sabine had pronounced perfect for her face. From the dark gleam in Karl’s eyes, Rilla would claim her handiwork a success. Leaning in, he traced the path of a single braid around her head, sending a tingle of awareness down to the roots of her hair.
Karl stepped back. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” he said in a more formal voice. He took her hat and muffler and hung them up with her coat. “Ursula will be in to serve lunch, but I’ll put something together for breakfast. I thought you might want to read your father’s letters before we get to work. I’ll leave you in peace.” He nodded, a little awkwardly, then disappeared into the kitchen.
Allina took a seat at the table and pulled out the small packet she’d buried in a file. She’d chosen one of her father’s newspaper articles, along with several envelopes. Now she wished she’d brought more items from the box. It took less than ten minutes to read his letters. They were short and clearly dashed off in a hurry, but Allina pored over every word, each detail a tiny bit of buried treasure.
“Coffee’s almost ready.” Karl walked into the den, platter in hand, but stopped when he saw her face. “What is it?”
Allina realized her face was wet with tears. She wiped her cheeks. “I’m fine. It’s just … these are so normal … about his job, the day he met my mother at a café, nights out at the theater…” She held up one letter. “I don’t know what I expected.”
He set the platter down. “And this?” he asked, picking up the article.
“I haven’t gotten to it yet.”
“May I?” He nudged the platter of food her way. It was simple fare that made her stomach growl: brown bread, thick slices of apple, and butter cheese.
Nodding, she took a slice of all three and downed them quickly. Allina was hungrier than usual. The cheese was rich, the apple very tart, and the hearty bread a perfect complement for both.
A half minute later, Karl took his seat with a sharp bark of laughter. “Listen to this: ‘Herr Hitler is a strutting peacock who knows nothing about public policy, economics, or human decency. Copies of the NSDAP 25-Point Plan would be best put to use by our citizens after visiting the toilet.’” His shoulders shook with mirth as he handed the article over. “Your father was political. Now I know where you get your nerve.”
Half laughing, half crying, she read the article twice, from beginning to end. “Uncle was right. He was an amazing writer.”
Karl snorted. “Yes. I like him, your father.”
“Now I wish I’d brought the rest.”
“Bring them next time. You can keep all his letters here if you wish. They’ll be safe.” Karl took her hand between his two warmer ones before pulling back. “We need to get to work.”
“We do.”
He quickly laid out the basics. They had ninety days—three short, terrifying months—to demonstrate improvement. That would take hours of painstaking work and make every bit of documentation critical. Every notation in the children’s files would have to be beyond reproach.
But there was good news, too. “Schwester Ziegler has agreed to give you a classroom of your own,” he said. “We’ll keep your ten children separate from the others. Her staff will take care of them in the evenings, but you’ll have control during the day.”
Being responsible for so few children would normally be a treat, but these little ones were a challenge.
“You’ll have help from three allies, as promised.” Karl grinned. “Hans and Alexander have the energy of ten men, and Josef served as a medic in the Great War. That’s why they’re coming to lunch today. They’ll be with you the first three months.”
He popped a bit of cheese into his mouth. “After the first ninety days, assuming we’re successful,” he said, “you’ll have to train volunteers.”
“Volunteers?”
“Yes. If we succeed, the program will expand, but I doubt you’ll get additional budget. My men can help when they visit Hochland Home, specifically with physical exercise. The Reichsführer has already approved this.”
Karl’s request that Allina attend the Hochland Home mixers made more sense now. She’d end up working with different men, strange men in uniform, each week.
“We’ll need a system to train them,” she said, trying not to panic.
“We do. Let me grab the coffee.” He walked to the kitchen and returned with a tray. “What should we tackle first?” he asked, filling their cups.
She took a sip and sighed. Good coffee always made her thinking clearer. “I see three major areas of concern.”
“Physical fitness, manners, speech,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “See? I’ve been listening.”
“Excellent,” she teased, practicing her best teacher voice. “For speech, we should use flash cards, like the ones in primary school.”
Karl nodded.
“We show them a picture of the item, give them a physical example if we can, and show how the word is written. They’re too young to read, but it’s never too early to start learning your letters.”
Allina wrote a list of common words and slid the paper in front of him:
A = Apple. B = Book. M = Mother.
Karl picked up a pencil and added F = Führer to her list. When she wrinkled her nose, he underlined the word. “Hochland Home serves the Führer,” he said. “Never forget that.”
“Of course.”
“If I can tell you’re uncomfortable,” he warned, “so will others. You must learn to master your facial expressions. Himmler’s a stickler for detail, and Hochland Home’s reputation may suffer to the degree we succeed. They’ll be watching everything you do.”
“What a cheerful thought,” Allina said as Karl laughed. “Give me some information about the children’s physical training, please.”
Karl leaned back in his chair. “It makes sense to model their training on the Hitler Youth. We’ll plan contests to motivate them.”
Allina frowned. “Some of the children can’t stand properly, never mind walk or run.” Even Otto, who was more advanced than the rest, struggled with balance.
“They will soon enough. Poor posture and weak muscles can be improved. We’ll show Josef your files this afternoon. He knows how to rehabilitate atrophied muscles.”
The man was a tower of confidence. “And manners?”
“We focus on basics first. Standing in line, waiting turns, please and thank you,” he said, counting off on his fingers.
“Table manners, raising hands, sharing toys,” she added. “Any activity can be used to teach manners.” It would be a matter of repetition, reward, and consistency.
“Exactly.” He folded his arms across his chest and grinned, looking so obviously pleased with himself that she had to laugh.
“Now, all we have to do is figure out each activity.” She leaned in close enough to catch his quick inhale of breath. “Do you think you’re up to it?”
Karl grinned. “I’m all yours.”
The clock chimed twelve. Allina glanced up from her notes. “I can’t believe it’s noon already.”
“We got a lot done,” Karl said. “You’ll make a good teacher.” Interlacing his hands together over his head, he leaned back with a ferocious yawn, twisting in a way that outlined the muscles in his arms and stretched the cloth of his shirt across his broad chest.
Allina looked away. “We make a good team,” she murmured. “I like your idea of combining physical activity, like clapping, with their counting exercises.”
He nodded and stretched some more. Allina fussed with her notes and did her best to ignore the low buzz at the base of her spine, the one she’d tried to suppress for hours. It wasn’t his nearness, exactly. They’d sat together before, dozens of times, and his behavior this morning had been chivalrous. Perhaps he’d been more charming than usual, but she couldn’t read anything other than kindness in Karl’s blue eyes.
Still, friendly feelings couldn’t account for the impatience that had overtaken her the five times their fingers had brushed this morning—a sharp restlessness that made her shift in her seat. She wanted to lean over and press her bare arm against his, to feel the heat of his skin.
Standing abruptly, Allina pressed her hands to the back of her neck, working out the stiffness as she reviewed their work. A dozen papers forming the basis of a rudimentary curriculum, including a daily agenda for the children and weekly goals for vocabulary and physical fitness, were spread across the table. Allina was grateful to put her writing skills to use again. It was a thoughtful, aggressive plan.
Twisting, she rolled her shoulders and winced.
Karl rose with a frown. “I’m a poor host,” he said. “We should have taken a break an hour ago. Here, let me.” He set his hands lightly on her shoulders, waiting for her nod before he began kneading the knot of muscle there. He managed to dig in just hard enough to ease the stiffness without hurting her, and the muscles in her shoulders tingled as they loosened up. She sighed and leaned back into the warmth of his palms.
An electric charge, sharper than before, soon filled the space between them. When she turned to him, he didn’t move closer. He seemed content to gaze at her in that compelling way of his, looking into her with his deep blue eyes. The pull was strong and his familiar scent, cool and clean like earth and water, was impossible to resist. She swayed forward, lifting her face, unable to look away from his mouth. He brushed a kiss against her forehead and pulled back, waiting. Lifting a hand to his face, she trailed a finger along the hard line of his jaw. His skin was silky despite the rough stubble, and warm to the touch. The muscles in his throat worked hard as he swallowed.
Karl gave in with a groan, and still Allina watched him, her eyes fluttering closed at the last possible moment.
The kiss was tentative, a bare brush of warm lips, the answering need in her body surprising in its intensity. When he pulled back, she touched her fingers to her lips. They were tingling. “Did you feel that?” she whispered.
“Hallo!” a woman called out from the vicinity of the kitchen.
Jumping back, Allina pressed her hand to her throat. Her heart was pounding.
Karl closed his eyes. “That would be Ursula, with our luncheon,” he announced, and Allina caught the slightest whine in his tone. “Let me introduce you.”
He grabbed her hand and walked with her to the kitchen. A plump, middle-aged woman with nut-brown hair and a face as round as the moon was busy unpacking two huge baskets of food on a butcher-block counter in the center of the kitchen. She glanced up with a sunny smile that dimpled her cheeks.
“Ursula, this is Allina Gottlieb, a friend who’s working with me on a special program for the children at Hochland Home,” Karl said, gesturing between the two. “Allina, I don’t know what I’d do without Ursula. She cooks amazing meals and keeps me fit and happy.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Fräulein.” Ursula’s brown eyes danced. She looked pointedly at their joined hands before giving Allina a quick once-over. “I’ve a tasty feast to fill your stomachs and warm your insides.” Ursula wiped her hands on her gray apron. “The soup’s already on the stove. When will the rest of your guests arrive?”
The loud roar of an engine and a screech of brakes made Karl peer out the kitchen window. “Impeccable timing, as usual,” he said.
Allina peeked outside as three men emerged from a black, battered automobile. Two were tall and golden haired and seemed to be about her age, and the third was much older, with more salt than pepper in his hair.
“Allina, may I introduce Hans and Alexander Schäfer, your new assistants in the classroom,” he said, his hands on the younger men’s shoulders. Both were nearly as tall as Karl, blond, blue-eyed, and handsome, with strong chins and broad cheekbones. When the pair smiled, dimples appeared in their right cheeks.
“I’m Hans,” said the first, and as she stood, he bowed over her knuckles. “We’re pleased to meet you, Fräulein Gottlieb.”
“Hans is my older brother,” added Alexander, taking her other hand. “But I’m much more handsome, don’t you agree, Fräulein?”
Allina burst into laughter.
“Hans and Alexander are the sons of teachers,” Karl said, stepping to the side. “While their charm is obvious, it’s my hope their parents’ skills have rubbed off on them as well.”
“Coming through, lads, coming through.” The older gentleman inserted himself between the two and tried to push between them, but Hans and Alexander wouldn’t give in. They laughed and jostled instead, trying to shove back his advance.
A quick shaft of panic had Allina backing up against the wall so swiftly she nearly fell. There was no logical reason for the reaction. These men were strangers, but Karl trusted them. They were eager and friendly. Obvious allies. They weren’t in uniform.
It didn’t matter. They were too close.
Closing her eyes, Allina pressed her hands to her stomach.
The laughter ceased, and when Allina glanced up, the older gentleman was watching her closely with pursed lips and the kindest expression in his eyes.
She extended a trembling hand, and he gave her knuckles a gentle kiss. “Josef Koch, at your service. Not as young or as handsome as these three,” he said with a laugh, “but I’d very much like to be of assistance.” He was as tall as the younger men, but slender to the point of gauntness. His long, friendly, near-homely face reminded her of Uncle Dieter’s.
“I’m pleased to meet you all, and grateful for your help,” Allina said. The intense mix of relief and nervousness had her light-headed.
“Let’s enjoy our delicious lunch,” Karl said. He cupped her elbow, and together they led the men into the dining room. “After, we’ll talk about how to proceed. Allina and I drew up a rough plan this morning. We need to make refinements.”
They all gaped at the mountains of food Ursula had prepared for five guests but made quick work of it. No one spoke for the first twenty minutes.
“We should get back to work before we fall asleep,” Allina said once she’d eaten her fill of soup, roasted pork, and pickled cabbage. It was already half past one. Hans and Alexander, who were on their second helpings of strudel, ducked their heads and obediently scraped their plates clean.
“Let’s adjourn to my office.” Karl scooped up his coffee cup and the pan of half-eaten strudel and led them back into the den.
Dr. Koch pulled out her chair with a flourish. “Karl tells me the ailments may be a result of poor nutrition.”
“That’s one of my worries,” Allina said, sitting down.
“Rickets is possible,” Dr. Koch said. “I’ll need to see them to be certain. When can I examine the children?”
“Whenever our program director says she’s ready,” Karl replied.
“What do you say, Madame Director?” Alexander asked.
Allina’s heart thumped once, hard in her chest, before it picked up speed. Across the table, Karl’s eyes were gleaming. The man was full of surprises today.
“I’ll need time to set up our classroom,” she said with as much calm as she could muster. “The children will be ready for you the day after tomorrow. We’ll begin Wednesday.”
“In that case,” Hans advised, “we’d better get started.”
Karl winked at her. “Gentleman, Director Gottlieb, let’s get to work.”
They worked like demons for another three hours. By the time the sun was a shimmering orange orb hovering over the horizon, Allina’s neck was crotchety again and her fingers were covered with ink.
“You’ve an eye for detail, my dear,” Josef said as he consulted the notes she’d given him on each child. “I’d like to keep these files for another day, do some additional research in my medical journals.” He’d pored over her paperwork and made dozens of notations on the margins of every page in his bold, spare handwriting.
“Of course.” Allina glanced across the room, where Alexander was making duplicate copies of the flash cards and Hans sat typing exercise instructions. They seemed totally at ease, more like teachers than soldiers.
Ursula came into the den, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ve cleaned up and put the leftovers into the icebox, Herr von Strassberg,” Ursula said, “and made you another pot of soup from those last vegetables in the larder, and some dumplings. But I must be going soon.”
“Of course,” Karl said, tossing his paper down and rising out of his chair. “Gentlemen, will you excuse us?” Smiling at Allina, he signaled toward the kitchen.
She followed him into the kitchen.
Karl reached for the set of keys that hung from a hook by the door. “Take the Wanderer into the village,” he said, handing them to Ursula. “There’s no need to be too conspicuous in your journey.”
“As if I’d drive that ridiculous gold car of yours,” Ursula teased, cheeks dimpling as she buttoned up a long, black coat.
“Hmm, no,” he said mildly, “but speaking of gold, you’ll remind Rabbi Guttmann about those special items, won’t you?”
Allina shot Karl a sharp look, but he only set his hand on the center of her back.
“We’ve gathered everything we can,” Ursula said. She wound a long, red muffler around her throat and knotted it with a swift jerk. “I’ll bring the parcels back tonight.”
“Excellent. I’ll walk you out,” Karl said. He escorted Ursula to a battered automobile. The car had seen better years—it must have been black at some point, but was now a faded, dented gray—but Ursula peeled out into the street with an expert turn, like she’d been driving its ancient metal carcass all her life.
“Where is she going?” Allina asked once Karl entered the kitchen.
“To a prayer service,” he said. “I’ll explain everything once we’re alone. I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.”
The intensity in his eyes made the flush creep into Allina’s cheeks. For a moment she was sure Karl would kiss her again. “I don’t either,” she whispered.
“Good.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Let’s help your staff finish up.”
In the space of two hours, and thanks to more coffee and the remainder of Ursula’s strudel, they managed to organize the rest of their lesson plans. Allina worked until her eyes ached and the writing on her flash cards swam out of focus. When Hans and Alexander gazed up at the ceiling and yelled “No more!” in unison, Karl paused.
“I think we’ve done all we can today,” he said.
Only Dr. Koch remained unruffled. “You have no stamina, children,” he said, making one last note in the margin of a file. “Most disappointing.”
Hans and Alexander stayed long enough to organize the paperwork by week in neat, filed stacks. In the end, Allina had two full boxes of meticulous plans: sixty days’ worth of schedules, activities, and flash cards, all ready for use. She’d tackle the last thirty days in a week or so, after working with the children. Tomorrow, she could begin organizing her classroom.
Dr. Koch left the house with Hans and Alexander at a quarter past seven. Ursula returned a few minutes later and dropped off two large boxes, which Karl brought into the den.
By 7:30, the house was quiet again and Karl and Allina were alone in his kitchen.
“What do you think about leftovers for supper?” Karl asked. He pulled platters of pork and pickled cabbage from the icebox and set them on the kitchen table.
“Leftovers are fine.” Allina searched his indigo eyes, which were sadder than they’d been an hour ago. “Tell me about those two boxes stacked in your den.”
“They’re filled with precious items from families who’ve requested help. Pieces of jewelry. Some silver. It all needs to be sold, and quickly. A friend will courier these boxes to my Aunt Adele in Switzerland.”
“Your aunt’s in a position to sell these items?”
Karl nodded. “She’ll get a better price, and there’s less chance of the transactions being traced back to Germany. Or me. Ursula is Jewish, Allina. She and her family need my help.”
Sweet, soft heat bloomed in her chest. “You’ll use the funds to help them emigrate to safety.”
He nodded. “Exactly. The process is expensive and complicated. But the main issue is time. Time is running out for them.”
For a moment she longed to slide her fingers through his hair. She settled for a hand on his shoulder instead. “You’re too hard on yourself. You do more than many others.”
“Not enough. Not nearly enough.”
“I don’t understand.” The grim set of his mouth was baffling.
“Please, sit,” he said. “I thought to wait until after dinner, but there’s no use in delaying the inevitable.”
Allina did her best to ignore the wild flutter in her throat. The anxiety and earnestness in Karl’s eyes were impossible to deny.
Karl took a deep breath before he began. “My grandmother was Russian. She and her family left their homeland sixty years ago.”
Allina nodded. “Go on.”
“They fled for their lives, Allina. They were Jewish.”
For a moment the room seemed to spin. Impossible. Karl was SS. A Gruppenführer.
Her silence made him laugh. “It’s true. I’m one quarter Jewish. Mischling, like you.”
For the next hour he told Allina everything: How his grandmother, Ekaterina, had fled Russia during the pogroms, and how she’d fallen for a young Lutheran boy after coming to Germany. Ekaterina married Franz and adopted his religion for the sake of love and fear. The need to blend in was essential for survival and she’d done so with the blessing, no, at the urging, of her family. Karl’s grandmother had turned her back on her faith, as too many others had at the time, to survive.
While Jewish blood was allowed in SS officers—not common, but permitted if the Führer approved—Karl had taken things a step further. To work covertly against the Reich, he’d had all paperwork on his grandmother’s side replaced with forgeries.
No one knew these truths, save for Allina, Karl’s Aunt Adele in Switzerland, and Markus, his closest friend, who’d made sure the forged paperwork was perfect.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for months. Even before you told me about your mother,” Karl said.
“But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.”
He shook his head. “I’ve kept the secret my whole life. I hardly knew how to tell it. And the knowledge puts you in even more danger now. We must be careful.”
Allina nodded, blinking back tears as she thought of all the secrets her family had kept—how heavily they must have weighed on Auntie and Uncle during the years they kept her safe. It had been only months since she’d learned the truth about her mother, and Allina’s anger and despair had begun to eat her up inside.
Karl insisted his past put her at grave risk, but she didn’t see it that way. With the truth out in the open, and this common thread between them, Allina felt safe for the first time since she’d come to Hochland Home.
She was no longer alone.
The cuckoo clock in the den chimed nine o’clock, and its cheery tones filtered into the dining room.
“Let’s finish our tea in the den,” Karl said, grabbing his cup and the pot.
They pushed two chairs in front of the fire. Allina was tongue-tied after the intensity of their discussion, but Karl seemed untroubled by the quiet. This silence wasn’t sad or angry, and she had no desire to fill it with conversation, but it made her restless. As they gazed into the crackling flames, the energy between them shifted, quickening in a way that made her pulse beat faster.
Karl stood up abruptly. His cup clattered on the saucer as he set it down. “We should get going. I’ll drive you back,” he said.
Allina stood and went to him instead, moving closer until she could feel the heat of his body through her dress. He went still, neither moving toward her nor away.
The pull toward him was strong. She didn’t want to leave. She cupped his cheek, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.
In the end, the gentle caress undid him. She witnessed the exact moment it happened, in the tightening of his mouth, the way he shook his head as his control slipped. He took her hand and pressed his face, then his lips into her palm.
When Karl kissed her, Allina wound her arms around his neck and arched against him, loving the heat of his hands and how her body fit against his. As he touched his tongue to hers, the need moved through her, sweet like molasses, settling between her thighs. She whimpered against his lips and shivered, wanting to be closer. He yanked her to him with a low moan, caging her in his arms.
Everything splintered apart.
Allina lurched away, her chest filled with lead, and the urge to escape ripping all sense from her body. She didn’t know the arms around her, just the clawing, desperate need to run. The high-pitched screech of a wounded animal filled the room, but she couldn’t see.
Seconds could have passed, or minutes, or an hour. She couldn’t be sure. But it was his voice, calling her name over and over, that brought her back to sanity.
Allina. It’s all right, Allina. I’m here. You’re safe. Come back to me now …
When the panic eased, Allina found herself on the floor on all fours like a dog, trembling and digging her nails into the rug. Her body was wedged under the conference table and Karl was sitting beside her, watching her but not touching, his face white and drawn, his eyes dark as night.
She scrambled into his arms and shook.
She woke to the light of the full moon streaming through the window and the comforting sense of being in a warm cocoon. Not quite awake, Allina stretched and arched back. Her head thumped against something solid and hard.
Karl came awake with a yelp. She turned, realizing at last where she was—in Karl’s arms, in his bed—and he pulled back immediately, holding up his hands. Searching her eyes. Watchful. Wary.
Last night rushed back in a flood of nervousness and shame, and finally … relief. Gratitude. He’d held her gently, cradled her, and whispered endearments as she fell asleep on the floor of his den. And while she had no memory of it, Karl must have carried her to his bedroom afterward and wrapped her in blankets to make her feel safe. He’d stayed with her. Held watch while she slept.
“It’s all right,” she said. Dropping her gaze to his collarbone, she attempted a smile. “I’m better now.” Allina inched closer, as much to prove that statement to herself as to him. She set her cheek on his chest and listened to the steady thudding of his heart. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry about,” he muttered against her hair. “Do you understand what happened?”
“Yes,” Allina whispered. “I’ve been this way since that night. In Badensburg.” His fingers were infinitely gentle as they ran through her hair, and she leaned into them. “I panic all the time now. I’ve little control over it. I don’t know what to do.”
“Of course you don’t.” He pressed warm lips to her forehead. “I’ve seen the same type of reactions in men who’ve gone to war. It’s called shell shock, and what happened to you tonight is my fault. I shouldn’t have let things get so far. It’s too soon.”
When she looked up, his eyes were soft and glossy in the light of the moon. He ran his hand in slow, even strokes through her hair.
There was nothing else to say. Soothed by the warmth of his body, she pressed closer and let him lull her to sleep.