by Renee Roszel
“And I, too, am sorry, Drew. . .for many things.” His eyes moved away from her to roam aimlessly about the room. But his hand continued to possess hers as he spoke. “I now see that my involving you in this plan was foolhardy at the least, and perhaps even criminal at its worst. You had every right for your anger.”
His eyes, seeming almost tormented, returned to her face. “Yet you must believe that I did not anticipate the circumstances that required your continued stay here. I would not have endangered you had I known. . .”
Drew lowered her eyes, not knowing how to react to his unexpected confession. She couldn’t answer, her throat was swollen with a sudden, overpowering compassion for this eminent man.
His voice was quiet and controlled as he continued, “But the deed is done, and we are caught in it. Even so. . .I feel that I can rectify matters somewhat, by relieving you of my further unwanted presence.”
Drew’s head snapped back up to his serious face. “What do you mean?” The question was an anxious whisper.
Was he now sending her back to the passengers’ quarters? Her heart fluttered wildly—was it anticipation or dread? She could not fathom her own confused reaction.
She put her question to words. “Are you sending me back?”
He shook his head slowly. “No.”
Releasing her, he continued, “I will go. I have a cot in the laboratory and enough work to fully occupy my time. . . .”
Drew’s limbs grew weak, and she could do no more than lower her body to the nearby couch, listening in silence as he said, “I will of course come back from time to time, to keep up the pretense that we are lovers. . . .” He did not look at her now, but moved silently about the room, gathering up papers.
“But, Doctor, please—this isn’t necessary. I don’t want to put you out of your own house!” She was amazed that she was pleading with the man to stay, the man that she had so recently injured and told she hated the sight of. But he didn’t seem to hear her at all.
At the door, he had turned back. “Rest.” A weary smile played across his lips. “I will be back for a while this evening to see to your needs.”
Before Drew could speak again, he was gone.
And he had been true to his word. For the past four days she had been left almost totally alone. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, recalling how he had come home in the evenings for a short period to shave, change clothes, and sort through papers. Then with a few polite words, he would leave.
Drew turned in the bed, an arm draped over her tightly closed eyes. She shivered involuntarily as she thought of Rolf’s cool, withdrawn attitude, and for some reason, it saddened her.
Though the continual rest had all but cured her, she had been invariably miserable and alone, or miserable and politely ignored. For when she wasn’t alone, she felt almost invisible as Rolf moved quietly about his business, saying little. Oh, he had been kind, and solicitous of her health, almost as though she were a small child or a visiting maiden aunt—either of which was a depressing substitute for being recognized as a desirable woman. That, somehow, bothered her more than she had realized it possibly could.
Looking at her watch again, she sighed, long and low. He would be with Monika now. There was no doubt in Drew’s mind about that. Where else would he be at two fifteen in the morning? He had married Drew to gain his freedom, but he was in Monika’s bed, Monika’s arms.
She gritted her teeth, feeling suddenly bitter, angry. A man like Rolf Erhardt used women like most people used towels. He put his hands on one and she ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor!
Drew felt the treacherous trickle of a wet tear slide across her cheek and flicked it away, angry at herself for dwelling on the arrogant Doctor’s amorous escapades. What did his indifference matter to her? At least he was leaving her alone!
Her mind thundered with that understatement and she abruptly sat up. It was useless to try to sleep. She flipped the covers back, deciding to go and heat some milk. Maybe—
Suddenly the door to her room burst open and the overhead light was flicked on. Rolf’s tall frame filled the door, his rugged, bruised features intent. “Get up.” He strode across the room to the bed and bent to reach underneath it, sliding out a brown leather suitcase.
Drew sat stunned, rubbing her eyes against the brightness of the light. “What—what is it?”
He pulled open the case and walked to his dresser. “The West German and United States governments are applying strong pressure to the East to get the detained passengers released. They don’t like the Communists’ continued story of unfavorable flying conditions.” He pulled a stack of shirts from a drawer and returned with them to his suitcase. “They think it’s a stall.”
Drew’s eyes grew wide. She hadn’t realized this would become a high-level battle between governments.
“Where are we going?” she asked with nervous anticipation.
“A train is being prepared at Eisleben to remove all of you to East Berlin where you will be released into the West.
“We’ll go there by car, the rest of the passengers are being loaded on a bus right now.” He moved back to his bureau. “Snow plows are clearing the route.”
“Are. . .you going to Eisleben to see us off?” Drew asked in a whisper.
He stopped, his arms loaded. “I’m going to Berlin.”
“No!” she breathed fearfully.
His brow lifted and his dark features were set as he turned his face toward hers. “I told you that I would not let you out of my sight until you were safely out of the East. I meant it.”
Drew’s mouth dropped open. “But won’t they think that it’s odd—you going along?”
He frowned. “I often go to East Berlin on business.” His jaw worked angrily as he stared at the girl poised in his bed. A scalding gaze raked her before he spoke again, his voice harsh and thick, “Put on some clothes!”
Drew looked down at herself, for the first time since his abrupt entry. She realized that she was woefully under-dressed. The low-cut nightgown with a bodice of transparent lace clung artfully to her full breasts. And the peach-colored silky gown, slit up one side, lay invitingly open to his blistering stare.
She quickly flipped the sheer fabric over her exposed hip and jumped out of the bed. Scurrying to her suitcase to get a less revealing change of clothes, Drew removed herself, in a blush of embarrassment, to the privacy of the bath.
After a few moments, she had changed into an off-white silk blouse, military in detail with roll up sleeves and matching front-pleated wool gabardine trousers. Slipping her wool-stockinged feet into bone ankle boots, she hurried back to the bedroom.
Just fastening his case as she entered, Rolf turned toward her. “Here.” He extended a folded sheet of paper.
“This is the marriage document. Make a slit in your coat lining and slip it inside.” The words were a crisp order, devoid of emotion.
As Drew took the paper from his hand, her fingers grazed his, causing an unexpected voltaic surge to careen through her body. Surprised by the impact of their small contact, Drew lifted light-gray eyes to his, dark and unreadable. For the briefest instant, she thought she saw a shadow of regret, even pain, pass across his face. But too quickly, it was gone—if it ever had really been there at all—for he had dropped his hand and turned away.
“Hurry, Drew.” His urgent tone made her jump. She noticed her furry jacket draped across the freshly made bed and rushed to it, taking up the coat with trembling fingers. Working with a small pair of fingernail scissors from her suitcase, she slit open a two-inch space at the base of her hood, slid the folded marriage license protectively between several layers of wool fiberfill and painstakingly restitched it.
“There,” she breathed, smoothing the lining.
Rolf closed the distance between them and looked critically down at the coat. His nod was curt, “Good.” Picking up the bags, he headed for the door. “Come on. We’d better get started.”
Once on the plowed
road, Drew bolstered her courage to ask, “If there’s been such an outcry about all this, then won’t the passengers’ identities be in the papers?” Rolf kept his eyes on the road. “I assume so.” Turning slightly toward her he went on, “Mrs. James Pollard will no doubt be an instant celebrity when released.” He didn’t smile.
“But. . .isn’t there the danger of the press releasing my relationship to Dad? That would be news, wouldn’t it—American scientist’s daughter held by Soviets.” Rolf’s face closed in a deep frown. “It hasn’t happened so far, Drew, or you would have been arrested.” He pumped the brakes on an icy incline before continuing, “Let us just assume that your American intelligence department is not made up of fools. As long as they feel the Communists don’t know who you are, they are not likely to let it slip.”
Drew sat in silence, allowing this thought to ease her qualms a bit. Nearly an hour later, Drew broke the tedious quiet again. “How much farther?”
“Not far. We passed the ten-kilometer marker some time back.”
The terrain had become increasingly hilly and the road began to curve, hairpinlike through a virgin wood. Rolf’s face was a study in concentration as he maneuvered the jeep over the ice-glazed road. And Drew, agitated by the precarious route, sat in nervous silence.
Rounding a treacherous bend, Drew’s eyes grew wide with horror and a scream was tom from her throat as she grabbed at Rolf’s arm. “Watch out!”
Before them in the wavering headlights stood a motionless shadow, its thick coat almost silver in the reflected light. An animal, close to six feet in length, gaunt and long-legged, turned its wide head toward them, eyes glowing iridescent.
Rolf’s quick reflexes had already maneuvered to miss the awesome creature. But Drew’s excited pull on his arm overcompensated, and they skidded sideways toward the statuelike beast.
Drew realized her mistake too late, and cringed, covering her eyes to the imminent impact. The car, now hopelessly out of control, speeding sideways like a gigantic bullet, could not be stopped on the slippery road, though Rolf used all of his expertise to slow and turn the vehicle.
Suddenly, a spark of self-preservation flickered to life in the wild eyes and it sprang out of the jeep’s path and loped into the safety of the dense pines. Instead of colliding with the huge creature, the jeep slid quietly off of the road’s solid surface into a snow-filled ditch, lifting the passenger’s side off the ground and throwing Drew onto Rolf’s lap.
A moment passed when Drew was sure she was dead, as a total unearthly silence blanketed them. Then she became aware of Rolf’s voice, deceptively gentle. “Are you all right?”
She lifted her head, surprised that his face was so close to her own, and that she lay in his arms like a baby. . .or a lover. “I—I think so. Yes.” Her voice was shaky.
“You don’t deserve to be, you know. That was a stupid thing to do.”
Shocked by his coldness, she turned her eyes up to his, her lips trembling. “I—I just didn’t want you to hit that animal.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Drew looked away. “Can we get out?”
Rolf scanned the windshield. They were tipped over at such an angle that snow rose up over part of the front window, as though they’d been dipped on their side into a vat of icing. “Yes, we can get out.” He paused. “But the jeep can’t.”
Drew’s eyes grew. “You mean we have to walk?”
She could feel his shrug. “Or sit here and miss the train.”
“The train!” Drew gasped. In the face of their present calamity, she’d forgotten. She moaned, “They’ll go without me!”
Rolf put his hands about her waist and gave her a little shove upward toward the passenger door. “I doubt that, but sitting here wailing about it isn’t going to get us there.”
Drew moved quickly now and took hold of the latch. She pushed, but the door stuck. She couldn’t budge it. “I—I can’t get it open!”
He slowly untangled himself from behind the wheel and crawled up beside her, pressing her into the seat back. They were chest to chest as he examined the door handle, his weight pressing down on her as he worked.
Drew was grateful for the thickness of his parka and her jacket between them. But the nearness of this man still sent her pulse to racing as she felt the raw power of his muscles pushing against the jammed steel of the door.
“Drew, you’ll have to turn the handle for me while I work with the door.”
She did as instructed, reaching up to turn the handle. But, in order to do it, she was forced to encircle his neck, almost in an embrace. He did not look down at her as he said, “When I say now, let go. I’ll be pushing outward, and I don’t want your weight pulling against me.”
Drew nodded numbly.
Rolf looked down. “Did you hear me, Drew?” Their eyes met. He hadn’t seen her nod.
His lips were only inches above hers, and without reason Drew had the most overwhelming urge to lift her face to his, to merge her lips with his, slightly parted and sensuous above her.
“Drew?” She slid her view from his lips to his dark eyes. There was a question in them. “Did you hear me?” His voice had thickened slightly.
“I—I, yes.” It was a stammer. “I heard you. . . .”
His face seemed to move closer as he spoke, in a whisper, “And do you understand me?”
“I. . .” What was he saying? Her chest tightened and moisture beaded her forehead. His lips were moving. . . he was speaking with his mouth. . .yet he was also speaking with his eyes, and the message in them was much clearer, much more eloquent. They were saying, “Kiss me, Drew. Put your lips to mine. I promise you it will be good. Let yourself go and kiss me.”
She wet her lips in anticipation, her breath came in short, dizzying pants. When his mouth was softly grazing hers, Drew noticed his lips, turned slightly upward at the corners.
Something tipped the delicate balance in her mind. He was smiling. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was manipulating her into the gaping maw where, with one false step she would lose herself to him and become just another link in a long unbroken chain of Rolf Erhardt’s conquests.
“No!” she breathed, pulling away. “No!”
He drew back slightly, his expression guileless, questioning. “You don’t understand?” He began again, his voice businesslike and instructive, his eyes distant. “It is really quite simple. Just let go of the knob when I say now.”
Drew stared up at him in disbelief. He was speaking as if nothing had happened between them, as though it had all been her own overactive imagination! It hadn’t been! It couldn’t have!
She said through clenched teeth, “Yes, Doctor, I believe I understand. Now will you just get it finished?” With a humorless half-smile he turned back to his work. Drew was acutely conscious of the sound of his breathing, and his soft breath feathering her hair. Her heart pounded maddeningly against her rib cage with the long, lean touch of his body against hers, his closeness remarkably disquieting. She didn’t like the effect his nearness had on her senses. She didn’t like it one bit!
She cried out in frustrated exasperation, “What’s taking you so long?”
“Now!” he shouted in answer, and Drew released her hold on the latch as the jeep door swung up and out, freeing them.
Rolf quickly climbed out, leaning back inside for her. “Give me your hands.”
Drew obliged, and he pulled her bodily from the over-turned car.
“What about our bags?” Drew gestured toward the back seat.
“If there’s time, someone will come back for them. If not, we do without.”
Drew opened her mouth to protest, but he took her arm, silencing her with his words. “Look, I’ll probably end up having to carry you. So I’m not about to concern myself with suitcases!”
Drew’s spine stiffened with indignation. “Don’t count on it, Doctor. I can take care of myself!”
His sidelong look was narrow. “You think so?”
Her eyes moved involuntarily, almost guiltily, to the ugly mark she had made on his face, starkly visible in the reflected moonlight.
The corners of Rolf’s mouth lifted cynically as he ran tentative fingers across the tender discolored cheek. “I find no pleasure in subduing a frightened kitten just because she bares her claws, Drew.” He spoke evenly. “That door you put between us had no lock. If I had wanted to, I would have had you then and there.”
There was no harshness in his voice. But the words, spoken with a calm conviction sent a quiver of fear up her spine. She swallowed hard as his grip tightened on her arm. “We’d better get started.”
At that moment, a baleful howl tore through the virgin quiet of the wood. Drew jumped, stifling a cry with the back of her hand. Nerves wound tight to the point of fraying, she whirled in panic to the protection of Rolf’s arms.
Sliding her hands about his neck she asked in a fearful squeak, “What was that?”
Rolf lowered thick lashes over velvet-brown eyes in a frown of surprise. He spoke near her ear, “That was the wolf whose life you so spectacularly saved a few moments ago.” His hands rested lightly on her waist as he went on, “Let’s hope he was returning to his den from a filling meal.”
Drew bit her lip, her eyes competing in size with the round, full moon above their heads. “It was a wolf? I didn’t realize. . .”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Do—do you think it might. . .attack us?” She clung ferociously to his wide shoulders, her face buried in the softness of his parka.
His shrug was noncommittal. But his arms were not as they tightened about her, pulling her into the lean hardness of his body. “I thought you were the girl who could take care of herself.”
“I—I can.” Her breathing was suddenly erratic. “I was just startled, that’s all.” She moved in his arms pulling her hands from his neck, embarrassed by her fright-induced weakness. She blurted defensively, oddly breathless, “Don’t jump to any incorrect conclusions about this, Doctor. It was an instinctive reaction. I would have jumped into anyone’s arms just then!”