“Lucie, it’s me.”
“Paul! What are you doing here?”
He sat beside her, his form dark but familiar, and the carriage rolled away. “The driver’s the son of one of my workers. He’s on our side. I told him to take the longest and slowest route to your apartment, then he’ll take me home.”
“Oh, you’re wonderful. I—”
He cut her off with a kiss and an embrace over layers of blanket, then he pulled away. “What?”
“The blanket.” Lucie laughed, pried the blanket from under his legs, and drew it over both laps.
He was already kissing her cheek, her neck, dislodging her hood. In the darkness her mouth found his, and he pulled her close, almost lifting her from the seat.
Paul nuzzled her neck. “I’ve been going wild not being able to be with you.”
“Me too.”
“That dress. Lucie, you’re so beautiful.”
She caressed the back of his neck. “My hand will never be the same.”
“Mine neither.” He kissed her again, at first with fervency, then settling in for lingering enjoyment.
Now her lips would never be the same. “If only it could always be like this.”
“It could be. It could if you married me.”
Lucie pulled in a sharp breath. “Married?”
“Would you? Would you marry me? Please, Lucie.” His voice rasped.
The kisses were talking. The kisses, the danger, the separation. “Paul, we can’t. I love you, but we can’t. And it’s so soon.”
He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. “I know. And yet, Iknow. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m the dark side of green, and you’re the light. I need you. I want you. I love you.”
Lucie’s eyes slid shut, and she stroked the smooth hair at the nape of his neck. She also needed him, wanted him, and loved him. But would that be enough when they returned to the States and the danger waned and nothing forced them apart? Would he still be enamored by her, or would he realize she didn’t fit in his world?
“Please,” he said. “Please marry me now.”
The poor man. He’d been lonely for so long. “I’d marry you tonight if we could. But we can’t. The marriage license would be filed. Our relationship would be public.”
He groaned, long and deep. “I hate this. Let’s leave now. Tonight. I’m packed, Josie’s packed, you’re packed. Let’s leave.”
Her logical engineer wasn’t thinking straight. “Darling, we don’t have our rendezvous information. We have to wait for it. Yes, we have a plan in case we have to leave without it, but it’s our last resort. It’s too dangerous.”
Paul shook his head, his nose brushing hers. “You’re right.Of course, you’re right. Never again say you aren’t smart, because you’re the brains of this outfit.”
Hardly, but she gave him a kiss. “Stay with the plan.”
They had signals arranged, plans and backup plans, exchanged in notes through books, each note burned after reading. They were waiting for the signal that the resistance was ready to accept them into the escape line and the details on how to meet their contact in Orléans.
Paul worked his hand deep into her hair. “This might be the last time we can talk freely. Do you have any questions about the plans, about—”
This time she silenced him with a kiss. “I don’t want to talk.”
His smile rose under her kiss. “As I said, you’re the brains of this outfit.” He pulled her close and kissed her long and well.
36
