CHAPTER TWENTY
HAZEL
Hazel smiled at Harry and wished he didn’t make her pulse quicken with one brief glance and one very cute, dimpled smile.
‘I’m worried about you.’
She shook her head as he stared at her, his dimples disappearing into a frown.
‘Please don’t,’ she said quickly. ‘I made the decision to come here and I want to do what’s needed of me.’
He sighed, his smile slowly returning. ‘Where do they even find women like you?’
She shrugged. ‘There are plenty of women doing amazing things at home, too. When you get back, you’ll see.’
He reached out, his fingers gently brushing hers. Hazel stayed still, her breath catching in her throat as his fingertips fell to rest over the back of her hand.
‘I don’t need to be told how amazing our women are,’ he said, voice low and husky. ‘Because I’m not that kind of man. But I do worry about you. About all three of you.’
‘You do?’ she asked, wishing she had the willpower to pull her hand away. Instead she kept dead still, liking the warmth of his skin touching hers.
‘It’s you I worry the most about, though.’
She needed to tell him again that she was engaged, needed to make it clear that his advances weren’t welcome. She’d made a new career based on lies and deceit ever since that first meeting when she was recruited by the SOE, but for some reason she couldn’t make the words come out of her mouth when it came to Harry.
‘I . . . I . . . ,’ she started, looking up into his dark eyes. They were seated on the ground, backs up against the wall. There was a decent space between them, the only connection made by his outstretched arm.
‘I don’t think I’ll be here much longer,’ Harry said, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts. ‘The last thing they want is an injured ex-pilot holed up for too long.’
Hazel disagreed that the others would be getting sick of him being there, but he was right about not thinking he’d be there much longer. Almost a day after Rose had left, she’d finally patched her radio together again, although it was only a temporary fix. Now that she’d been in direct contact with Paris, her next job was to confirm the rescue of a handful of Allied airmen and have them smuggled out to Spain. As well as listening and waiting on more news of the Allied invasion.
‘I’m engaged to be married,’ she said, the words just blurting out.
He didn’t pull his hand away, instead started to move his fingers again over hers. ‘I know. You’ve told me that already.’
She gulped. ‘I don’t want to, well . . .’
‘You don’t need to say it,’ Harry said. ‘I know.’
Hazel felt better now she’d said it, pleased she’d at least tried to explain, but it didn’t change the way she felt. And she had a feeling it wasn’t going to change anything about Harry, either. There was something between them, something that was impossible to ignore, and she knew he felt it just as keenly as she did.
Hazel heard someone calling her, a muffled shout from another room, and she knew she needed to get back to work. She’d stopped only for a quick break and something to eat, her head pounding from hour after hour concentrating at her desk. After confirming Harry’s collection, she needed to get to work pinpointing exact positions for drops for other cells ahead of the landings. But she knew her work would be hindered by having to fiddle with her set to try to keep it working, and it would be like that until Rose returned with the part she needed to fix it properly.
She reluctantly pulled her hand away from Harry’s, but he surprised her by tightening his grip, fingers firm against hers as he tried to keep her still. His skin was smooth and warm, reassuring even though it was also so obviously forbidden.
‘Come here,’ he murmured.
Hazel hesitated, stared down at him. She shouldn’t. She needed to leave, needed to put distance between them before something she regretted happened, before . . .
To hell with it.
Hazel dropped back down again, her breath ragged. Harry’s eyes fell to her mouth and her lips parted involuntarily as she lowered to her knees. They were both still until Harry’s hand rose, his palm soft to her cheek as he gently caressed her skin.
She made the final move despite her mind screaming out to her to stop. She’d been thinking about it for so long, but she’d never had any intention of following through and turning it into reality. Hazel slowly, carefully touched her mouth to Harry’s, the lightest of kisses as their lips brushed. She paused, his breath hot against her, his body so warm and inviting.
‘We shouldn’t,’ she whispered.
Harry didn’t answer her with words. Instead he leaned in and kissed her again, for longer this time, his mouth firmer, his lips moving against hers and making her skin tingle.
‘I have to go,’ she finally said, heart racing as she dipped down to kiss him one more time.
‘Then go,’ he whispered back.
Hazel reluctantly stood, looking at Harry one last time, knowing from the heat in her face that her cheeks would be stained a dark shade of pink. She’d never, ever thought she’d be unfaithful to the promise she’d made John, and it terrified her how easily she’d done it. But everything felt so different now, as if she were a different person leading a completely different life.
But she had to get him home safe. She needed to be able to do her job without worrying about him, needed to stay completely focused without any distractions, and that meant helping him and any other Allied airmen in the area out of France and on their way back to England.
Harry. His name circled her mind as she hurried upstairs to the attic, her little bolt hole away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the big house.
She should be thinking about codes, and instead there was a handsome man with lips like silk against hers who had infiltrated her thoughts.
‘Do I even need to ask where Harry is?’
Hazel bit her lip, turning on the staircase and finding Sophia standing at the bottom, arms folded and a knowing smile on her face. She tried to remain expressionless.
‘Well . . . ,’ Hazel started, clearing her throat and thinking quickly what to say in her defence.
‘No need to explain, I didn’t say a thing,’ Sophia said with a laugh, making Hazel grin. ‘Do you want me to take over for a bit so you can have a longer rest?’
Things had changed between them now, and for the better. Mind you, after what they’d been through, there was little they didn’t know about each other, and very little they wouldn’t trust the other with. Besides, not having Rose with them had brought them closer; they were both worried about her, and not knowing where she was or whether her mission had been a success was no doubt playing on Sophia’s mind as much as it was Hazel’s.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Hazel said, forgetting all about Harry and refocusing on her work. ‘I’m only worried that being on the radio so long could give up our position.’
Sophia nodded, following her all the way up and into the small room. ‘Look, if we were in the city, I think we’d need to be extremely careful. We’d have to be on the move after every transmission.’
Hazel agreed. ‘I know. But for all we know, we’re not as isolated as we think here. What if I’m compromising our security? What if we’re not being careful enough?’
She listened to Sophia sigh as they sat down. Hazel was at her desk and Sophia was on the bed, facing her.
‘How’s the radio holding up?’
Hazel groaned. ‘It’s terrible! I have to keep trying to patch it up, and I lose the connection all the time.’
‘Rose will be back soon. As soon as she’s here, we move on.’
‘I think we need to. We’re safer on the move than being sitting ducks for the Germans.’
Sophia lay back on the bed, no doubt deep in thought. She was the most introverted of them all, even though she was their natural leader. But the reason she was so good was because of the way she could read a situation, the thought she put into everything they did before they did it.
Hazel tried to tune into the BBC again once her communications for the day were over, but the signal kept fading out and her frustration was rising. Not to mention the fuzzy feeling in her stomach, the gnawing sensation she’d had ever since Rose had left. Something didn’t feel right to her, only she didn’t know if it was merely worry over her friend or something more.