“Iwasharsh.” His voice ground out.
“Not at all.” She squeezed his hand. “You were truthful but gentle.”
“But I wasn’t angry with you. I was angry with Skov. You should have heard me.”
“Hmm. I hope if I ever do anything as misguided as accosting an armed guard, that you would be very harsh with me. It sounds as if Skov deserved it.”
“Not all of it. I didn’t just berate him for what he’d done, but for who he was as a man. I called him an idiot, a waste of life. It was wrong.” Regret buffeted his voice.
Only one solution for regret. “What are you going to do?”
“Do?”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Hemming’s chest and head rose. “I need to apologize to him.”
Those were not the words of a harsh man, and she leaned against him and lifted her face. “I can see myself falling for you.”
Hemming grunted and kissed her forehead. “Don’t make me question your intelligence, Dr. Jensen. Come on. We should—”
A ridiculous whimper escaped. “A little kiss?”
“Little? There’s no such thing as a little kiss with you.” He tugged her hand until she followed, and then he dropped it.
Her unkissed mouth wilted, and yet, something better than a kiss had happened, and a smile firmed up disappointed lips.
On the sidewalk, her Viking warrior looked around, then tilted his head to signal her to pass him. Else did, and in a couple of blocks, the brick façade of the boardinghouse rose before her.
She opened the door.
Fru Riber darted out from the living room and flew down the stairs. “Thank goodness you’re home. I was so worried. It’s dangerous out there. Did you hear? We’re under martial law.”
“Yes, we heard.” Else stepped to the side so Hemming could shut the door.
Fru Riber gazed past them and pressed her hand to her ample chest. “Never in my life. I haven’t been out all day. Are there tanks out there? Are they shooting people?”
“No. I only saw soldiers guarding the train stations.”
The landlady sagged back against the banister. “I can’t believe we’ve come to this. Why did those radicals have to stir up trouble? Now we’re all being punished because of communist saboteurs.”
Else’s throat went tight. “If you must blame someone, blame the Germans.”
Hemming gave her a pointed look. “We should obey the law.”
How darling he was with his face stretched long in sincerity. The man whose illegal exploits had inspired a legend.
“What a good man,” Fru Riber said. “If we obey the law, we have nothing to fear, ja?”
“Ja,” Else said in a quiet voice. And those who didn’t obey the unjust laws...?
Fru Riber’s mouth formed a tiny circle. “Oh, Hemming. A man came by and left a message. He said your watch was fixed and you could pick it up at the jeweler’s today before five.”
Cords formed below Hemming’s beard and pushed out his collar. “Tak. I’ll go now.”
He clomped out the door again.
Fru Riber edged closer to Else. “Have you ever heard of a jeweler’s open on a Sunday?”
