Enticing the Spymaster (War Girls) by Julie Rowe

hesitation.”
    The furrow between his eyes smoothed out, leaving behind a speculative gleam in his eyes. “All of them?”
    She pressed her lips together and nodded.
    His grip on her loosened. “Then we might get out alive.”
    Jude shifted her weight backwards, thinking that he’d let her go, but he didn’t.
    “If we’re challenged,” he said, lowering his face until she thought he was going to kiss her, “go along with anything I say, no matter how shocking. No hesitations.”
    Her breath stuttered. Something told her he wasn’t going to make this easy. “I promise.”
    “Good.” He paused and released her slowly, as if his fingers didn’t want to obey his commands.
    Jude spent a long second regaining control of her lungs, then in the most businesslike tone she could muster, suggested, “We should hurry.”
    He took her right arm in an unshakeable grip and set off at a pace that had her almost running to keep up with his long strides. His clean scent swept over her and she repressed a groan. No man should smell so good. No man should seem so safe despite all evidence to the contrary.
    They walked several blocks before coming across anyone else, and when they did, it was only two civilian men dressed in poorly patched wool. They took one look at Michael’s uniform and the rifle slung over his shoulder and disappeared into an alley.
    He led her across the street, hurrying her along even faster than before, towards a building with noise and light coming from a row of intact windows. Male voices and laughter spilling out onto the street.
    “We’re almost there,” Michael said. “Try to look worried or a little scared. Avoid looking anyone in the eye. And if anyone talks to us, blush if you can.”
    “Blush?”
    * * *
    The confusion on her face decided him. In order to get them on the train and away from Brussels, Michael had to convince anyone who might see them that he had a damn good reason to be travelling with her.
    If he told her she would have pose as his wife, she’d argue or suggest some other solution. But no other solution would do. Not for him.
    He wanted her. He had for years. Her father had convinced him that her crush would fade and disappear. That she was meant to marry someone else. Someone with a similar pedigree. Someone safe. Like a good soldier, he’d marched away.
    Two years later she still wasn’t married and she was certainly not safe.
    He might not get to keep her, but he wanted a taste. Enough to feed the hunger time had only intensified.
    He picked up the pace and rushed her into a dark gap between buildings too narrow to be called an alley. He slid one hand behind her back, the other behind her head, and took her lips in an almost brutal kiss.
    Her lips were soft and delicious. And she kissed him back with a passion he hadn’t expected. He softened his mouth and cradled her in his arms, gentling her. He nibbled and licked a path to her ear.
    “I want to kiss every inch of your skin, every part of your body. I want to kiss you until you plead for more, until you’re drunk on your own passion.”
    She gasped and clutched him closer.
    He kissed her again then pulled away to gaze at her. One thumb traced an intricate pattern on her cheek. “You’re blushing. I can feel the heat under your skin.”
    She stared up at him, and he watched her face change as she realised he’d kissed her on purpose, taken her body and made it respond the way he wanted, so she could blush on command.
    He hated to see tears in her eyes, hated knowing he put them there.
    A single tear escaped. He caught it with a finger.
    “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I seem to be forever apologising to you, but even this small thing might mean the difference between our escaping or not.”
    “I understand.” A lie he was sure, but it didn’t matter. All they had to do was survive, get out of danger. Back in England, he’d make sure her father kept her home. She’d be out of danger, trouble and his life for