“That’s how sorry I am,” she said. “Forgive me?”
“My God!”
“But that’s all you get now. I spent two hours in the beauty salon making myself pretty for you, and I don’t want to mess my hair. Right away. After dinner is another matter.”
[ SIX ]
“I can’t believe you ate all that,” Rachel said, as he put his knife and fork across the plate that had held a medium-rare porterhouse steak, baked potato, and buttered peas.
“I said all I had to eat all day was a bacon-and-egg sandwich,” he said, then drained what was left of his double Jack Daniel’s rocks.
“I hope you got your strength back, you poor starving boy.”
“That was a very nice steak.”
“And a large one. I had an idea when I was sitting under the dryer in the beauty shop,” she said.
“Why do I think it was lewd?”
“I don’t suppose you could put me in that German airplane of yours and fly me up to your monastery? Just the thought of doing it there feels delightfully lewd.”
“I couldn’t fly you there without a lot of people asking questions.”
“But you can use that Opel Kapitän, right?”
Cronley nodded.
“So you could drive me to your monastery tomorrow?”
When he didn’t reply immediately, she went on: “Everybody knows I stayed here when Tony went to Vienna so I could look into the enlisted men’s welfare facilities. No one would ask questions if I went there. And while I was there, perhaps the commanding officer would show me his quarters. I’d really like to have the commanding officer show me his quarters.”
“Great idea, except that I’m under orders to stay here until I hear from Colonel Frade.”
“Hear from him about what?”
“He didn’t choose to tell me that.”
“Damn.”
“I would be delighted to show you my commanding officer’s quarters in Pullach tomorrow.”
“I really would like to tell Tony that I got into the monastery after you shot up his car to keep him out. We couldn’t make a quick trip early in the morning?”
“Maybe after I hear from Colonel Frade.”
“I suppose that’s better than a flat-out ‘Hell no, Rachel, you can’t go to my monastery.’”
“I’m being charming as I have designs on your body.”
Cronley then had a fresh disturbing thought: Now that I have decided—and really believe—Mrs. Colonel Schumann is really somebody I shouldn’t be fucking, what’s going to happen when we get upstairs? What if I can’t get it up?
X
[ ONE ]
The Dining Room
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