Churchill's Secret Messenger by Alan Hlad

Churchill's Secret Messenger by Alan Hlad

Author:Alan Hlad [Hlad, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-01-25T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 24

PARIS, FRANCE—JUNE 23, 1943

Lazare slipped out of bed, taking care not to disturb Rose, and put on his trousers. Early-morning sun illuminated a blind, creating a dull glow over the room. He buttoned his shirt, and then paused, his eyes drawn to Rose. A worn bed linen, draping over her body, accentuated the curvature of her hip. Her chest rose and fell, synchronized with the tranquil cadence of her breath. An exposed foot peeked from under the sheet. Tu es magnifique.

Rose stirred and opened her eyes. Appearing a bit bashful, she covered her exposed skin with the sheet. “Where are you going?”

“To see Claudius,” he said, stepping to her.

She extended her hand. “I wish you could stay a little longer.”

He squeezed her fingers, fighting his desire to return to the bed. “Me too.”

“We could have breakfast,” she said.

“There’s no food,” he said.

“Precisely,” she said, grinning.

He smiled, feeling his body flood with warmth. He pulled her into his arms.

She nuzzled to him.

He lowered his cheek to her hair. A subtle scent of lilac perfume filled his nose, spawning images of their night together.

“When will I see you again?” she asked, her voice turned soft.

“Tonight,” he said, regretting that he had to leave.

“Okay.” She glided her fingers over his neck.

His skin tingled.

She looked up. Their eyes met.

Lazare drew close, his breath stalling, and gently kissed her lips. He felt her arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him close. Their embrace faded, and she slipped away.

Wrapped in the sheet, Rose walked him to the door.

He left her apartment building, his chest filled with saudade. A deep melancholic longing to be with Rose tore at his core. Since losing his parents, he’d felt little more than despair, but Rose had awakened his heart. She’d given him affection, understanding, and—most of all—hope. But what chance of a future did they have? The Nazis were increasing their stronghold on France, and the rumors of an Allied invasion, if true, were months, if not years, away. His parents, who believed that Allied forces would someday liberate France, had chosen to wait out the occupation, while he had chosen to fight. It occurred to Lazare that his parents’ love for each other might have contributed to their decision not to flee Paris. Like his parents, his feelings for Rose could complicate matters. While he remained steadfast to sacrifice everything, including his life, to free France from German occupation, he realized that there may come a time when each of them might be forced to choose between duty and desire. He prayed that this predicament would never arise.

Lazare located Claudius in the basement of a café in Montparnasse, which they occasionally used as a safe house. He was glad to find him alone, cleaning a pistol with an oily rag. Smoke rose from the stub of a cigarette balanced over the edge of an oak table.

“I was about to summon you,” Claudius said, setting down his weapon. He gestured for Lazare to take a seat.

Lazare sat on



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