Dangerous Allies. Renee Ryan
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“You were remarkable,” he drawled, his words no longer following their scripted first meeting. His expression dared her to remark on his audacity.
She couldn’t. She was too busy trying to shove aside the pleasure that swelled inside her at his impulsive remark. If there was anything she didn’t trust it was a spontaneous, sincere compliment. It hit at a vulnerable spot deep within, the place no one had touched since her father’s murder. The place that had once believed in a loving God.
She lifted a shoulder, pretending his deliberate shift in the conversation didn’t bother her in the least. “Dying onstage has its own unique drama. Poetic and sizzling.” She smiled, opened her heart just a little. “Wonderful, really.”
His eyebrows drew together in an expression of genuine fascination. “Is that why you do it, then? For the drama?”
They both knew he wasn’t talking about the stage.
Oh, he was a smooth one, intentionally forcing her further off track with an intriguing question. She would not be defeated by such a transparent maneuver. “Among other reasons.”
She slanted him a warning glare. His questions were getting too personal. Too insightful. Too…dangerous.
Just how much did this man know about her?
Their association was supposed to be simple. But the curling in her stomach told her this mission had become entirely too complicated already. She had to remember they would work together only three days, then never see each other again.
She wouldn’t even learn his real name. As far as she was concerned, he was Friedrich Reiter, a wealthy shipbuilder who frequented the theater.
Pushing the spark of remorse aside, Katia touched his arm, but then quickly dropped her hand at the shocking sense of comfort she felt on contact. “Why don’t we—”
Her words were drowned out by voices coming from the backstage door leading into the alley.
Happy greetings rang out, one after another. Katia turned toward the sound of a familiar feminine voice, barely catching sight of her elegant mother before being greeted with a kiss on her cheek.
Taking a step back, Katia scooped a breath into her lungs and tried to focus her chaotic thoughts.
What was her mother doing here, tonight of all nights? Elena Kerensky rarely attended the theater and she never appeared backstage. Mingling with the masses was simply not done. It was one of her mother’s cardinal rules.
So what had sparked this unprecedented visit?
Katia took another long breath and swept a furtive glance over her mother. Elena Kerensky was still a striking woman at forty-seven, one who knew how to dress for any occasion. Tonight, she’d chosen a form-fitting gown of ice-blue that matched the color of her eyes. She’d pulled her pale blond hair into a refined chignon, showing off the expensive jewels around her neck. The ensemble made her look every bit the brave Russian princess in exile.
“My darling Katarina.” Elena spoke in her trademark breathy whisper. “You were lovely this evening. Perfectly charming. I am a very proud mother.”
For a moment Katia’s practiced facade deserted her. She, unlike her mother, had very few rules in life and only one unbreakable commandment: never, under any circumstance, involve her mother in a mission.
She had to send Elena on her way before propriety required Katia to introduce the MI6 operative. Even though he had backed off a few steps, most likely to give her room to deal with this unexpected interruption, he remained close.
To further complicate matters, her mother wasn’t alone. She’d brought her favorite escort of late, Hermann Schmidt, a cold-hearted naval officer in his early fifties.
Despite the air clogging in her throat, Katia needed to concentrate. What was Elena thinking? Not only did Schmidt hold the high-ranking position of captain in the Kriegsmarine, he had an unholy obsession for the Fatherland and a stark hatred of Jews.
Perhaps her mother didn’t recognize the risks. Or perhaps she was simply hiding in plain sight.
“Katia, my dear, you remember Hermann?” Elena swept her hand in a graceful arc between them. “It was his idea to come backstage and congratulate you personally.”
Which could mean…anything.
Far more worried about her mother’s safety than the British operative standing to her right, frightening possibilities raced through Katia’s mind, each more terrible than the last. Her heartbeat slowed to a painful thump…thump…thump.
How could her own mother willingly choose to align her loyalties with a Nazi like Hermann Schmidt? It was true, the Nazis hated the Communists as much as Elena Kerensky did, but that did not make them—or this man—her ally. Especially when Elena carried such a dangerous secret hidden in her lineage.
Katia would have to speak to her mother in private. But not now. Now, she had to don the comfortable role of silly, spoiled daughter. “Good evening, Herr…Korvettenkapitän. It is always a pleasure to see you.”
Schmidt’s eyes narrowed into hard, uncompromising slits. “It is Kapitän zur See, Fräulein Kerensky. Just as it was the last time you made the same mistake. And the time before that.”
“Oh, dear, of course.”
Arrogant beast.
Tossing her head back, Katia gave a little self-conscious giggle. “My apologies. I never seem to be able to distinguish the ranks of the Kriegsmarine.”
She continued chattering nonsensical words that indicated her ignorance of all things military, ever mindful of the British operative moving back to her side once again. Beneath her lashes, she slid a covert glance his way, quickly catching the doubt in his bearing.
And why wouldn’t he be suspicious of her now?
Katia’s mission was to help him gain access to the blueprints of a Nazi secret weapon, a revolutionary mine that had sunk countless merchant ships over the last three months. Yet here she was, fraternizing with a U-boat captain. Then again…
Perhaps she could use the Nazi’s unexpected appearance to her advantage. How was the British spy to know that Hermann Schmidt was not one of her most useful contacts?
The key was to keep Hermann thinking she was an imbecile, all the while convincing the British operative she was a brilliant actress in a necessary performance to protect her mother.
Tricky. But achievable.
Elena, however, provided the one complication Katia could not defuse with any of her well-practiced roles. “Darling, please do us the honor of introducing your…friend.”
Chapter Three
The moment all three gazes turned toward Jack his gut twisted into a hard knot. For a fraction of a second all the intense emotions—the guilt, the anger, the need for vengeance—threatened to break free and sweep away his control. But if he relaxed his guard for a moment, no matter the cause, someone would end up dead to night.
Hardening his resolve, Jack searched Kerensky’s face for signs of a hidden agenda. There was obvious distress in her eyes, a clear indication this interruption was not planned. But the woman was a world-renowned actress, one who knew how to drag sympathy out of a man.
He would be a fool to trust her.
As though sensing his reservation, she flashed him a smile and he lost his train of thought. Clenching his jaw, he forced his heartbeat to settle. Yet, no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t look away from those remarkable eyes staring into his.
Kerensky blinked once, twice, finally breaking the spell between them. “Herr Reiter,” she began, addressing him by his assumed alias. “This is my mother, Elena Kerensky, and her escort, Hermann Schmidt.”
Acknowledging the woman first, Jack took Elena’s