Page 22 of Beloved Beast

“I don’t mean to pry. I want to be sure the place will be safe and secure.”

She spoke the truth and he relaxed a little.

“While my mind’s been racing, I’ve been trying to understand why Otto’s miserable wife reported him. As you said, he must have kept the photos. I’m assuming she found them, questioned him on them,” Gillian said.

“No doubt. He could have let slip his suspicions of you. The fact you disappeared without any notice would fuel both their doubts. What better way to rid herself of a cheating husband? Report him to the SS while casting a cloud of espionage over the proceedings?”

“Are there many Nazi spies in England?”

He absently stroked her arm. “No, not many. In fact, MI-6 has been successful the past three years tracking down those who managed to slip into the country either by U-boat or parachuting in. From what I understand, they have turned quite a few into double agents. The rest are languishing in prison.” Or have been executed.

“Are there men following me, do you think?” she asked worriedly.

“Fred believes you may have been tracked from Berlin. The information he received from one of these double agents is not to be taken lightly. There is a good chance they will be found out before they catch up to us.”

Gillian cuddled in closer, causing his arousal to shoot up another notch. “Why waste valuable manpower on me?”

“The Germans wish to make an example of you is my guess. Anything to do with the Enigma machine is given top priority. They must be aware we are close to cracking the code if we haven’t already, though they believe their code is unbreakable,” Luke replied.

“Makes sense,” she whispered.

“Actually, us hunkering down for a short period while plans are made for your escape may be the smart thing to do. The more you run, the more likely you are to get caught. Taking ourselves off the grid is prudent. Fred is good at his job, after all.”

“That makes sense, too.”

“Good. Now you can relax.” Luke kissed the top of her head. “And do not linger on what happened tonight at the tube station either.”

“I’ll try. I have a feeling I will never forget it.”

Neither would he.

In a matter of minutes, Gillian’s soft, steady breathing showed she’d fallen asleep. He should leave her in peace. Instead, he lay there soaking up her warmth, feeling alive for the first time in many years.

* * * *

Surprisingly, Luke managed to sleep an uninterrupted four hours. He hadn’t done it in ages. Already he’d been to see his landlord, letting him know he was taking a business trip for a few weeks and not to worry if they don’t see him about. While there, he bought two eggs and a few strips of bacon from the older couple, paying them far more than was necessary. They were good people and stayed out of his business but were kind and generous when he did seek them out.

Gillian must have awakened to the odor of the frying eggs and bacon, for she stumbled from the hallway looking sleepy and charmingly ruffled. “What time is it?” she asked as she yawned.

“Ten o’clock.”

“Good heavens. I slept for more than nine hours.”

“You must have needed it.”

She stepped closer. “I have a confession.”

He stiffened, bracing himself for the worst. “Oh? What?”

“I cannot cook. Growing up I lived with my grandmother and mother, and they did it all. Since then, I mostly eat in restaurants. I can manage a cup of tea or coffee, maybe toast, open a tin of soup and heat it up, but that’s it.”

He relaxed and gave her a brief smile. “It’s a good thing I can cook. Take a seat.” Slipping the eggs on two plates, he placed one of them in front of her. He served up the bacon, poured her a cup of coffee, and sat and poured himself one. “I bought the eggs and bacon from my landlord. I told him this morning I am leaving tonight on a business trip. What little food I have left here in the flat we will take with us.”

She heartily ate the breakfast, washing it down with gulps of coffee. A good appetite was certainly an encouraging sign. “Has anyone made contact yet?”

Shaking his head, he cut into his egg. “No, I…” He stopped. A bicycle had pulled up at the rear of the house, the gravel crunching under the tires. “Someone is coming. Go to the bedroom and take your cup and plate with you.”

Gillian placed the utensils across the plate, grabbed the dishes, and sprinted down the hall.