Page 42 of Summer of Fire
‘Tell me about yourself, Seagrove,’ he said, surprising her again as he drew a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.
‘What do you want to know? I think you know everything about me already, to be honest. You and your people interrogated me before you approved me to work with SOE.’
He laughed at this and blew smoke rings above his headlike the day he interviewed her. Lizzie caught tantalising glimpses of his hard chest beneath his vest.
‘What was it like growing up on an island?’ he asked, pulling the blanket over them both with one hand.
Lizzie told him about Seagrove and the view of the bay from her favourite window seat. ‘The sea is a gorgeous turquoise colour and on a clear summer’s day you can see the coast of France. Jersey is the most beautiful place in the world.’
‘It is a far cry from London. You must miss it very much.’
‘I do,’ Lizzie said, the passion in her tone tinged with sadness. ‘My grandparents refused to leave when my father insisted we join him in London.’
‘They’re living on the island under Nazi occupation?’ said Jack, stubbing out his cigarette carefully on the ground. ‘I hadn’t realised you still had family members there.’
‘Yes. That’s one of the reason’s I said yes to Mr Drake’s request to meet with you, to be honest. Lots of our friends and family stayed on the island. I’m not sure we would have left if it wasn’t for my father working at the War Office.’
‘It’s shocking to think the Nazis are on British soil,’ said Jack, shaking his head.
‘I know. We kept hoping they wouldn’t really come, but when the army packed up and left, it was only a matter of time until Hitler’s mob turned up to fill the void. It was an easy win for them. It’s such a strategic point between France and England.’
‘I can’t imagine what the government was thinking, leaving the islands defenceless like that. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from your grandparents since the invasion,’ he said.
‘Sadly not, the postal service and phone lines aren’t in operation.’ Lizzie paused.
‘Now it’s my turn. Can I ask you a question?’ she asked,turning her face to his so their noses almost touched in the proximity of the hay bed.
‘Of course. I’m an open book,’ said Jack.
‘Now that you are definitely not…’ Lizzie saw he was laughing at himself, and it made her love him more.
‘Who is Raven?’
Jack looked startled. ‘Where did you hear that name?’
‘Jeanne mentioned it. She said something strange about Raven coming to get me and I would be safe now. She spoke as if she knows you as Raven.’
Jack shrugged and Lizzie noticed he had a dimple in one of his cheeks when he smiled. ‘Guilty as charged. You rumbled me.’
‘But what does Raven mean? Why Raven?’
‘It’s my codename from before the war. We all use one. Like I chose Seagrove for you.’
‘I see,’ Lizzie said. ‘Raven.’ She rolled the name around her tongue. ‘It suits you. Your black glossy hair. You really are like a raven,’ she said, smiling into his eyes, her heart skidding erratically. ‘I remember reading something about ravens being magical creatures and seen as sacred messengers in ancient cultures.’
Lizzie screwed up her forehead as she tried to recall more of what she read. ‘Something mystical about their connecting the realms of the seen and unseen. That sounds like a perfect description of your line of work.’
‘I don’t know about that. What I do is altogether much less magical, as you saw yesterday.’
Their faces were so close that if he moved his head an inch, their foreheads would touch, and his lips could brush hers. She shivered. His closeness unnerved and excited her simultaneously, and she wished she could stop thinking about what it would be like if he kissed her. Lizzie moved her head slightly to one side.
His fingers touched her chin and turned her gently back to face him. ‘What’s the matter?’ he said.
She shrugged. ‘Nothing, I’m fine.’
‘No, no, you’re not. I may not have known you long, Lizzie Beaumont, but I can see you are thinking furiously about something. Remember, I am a mystical raven who sees the unseen! Tell me what is troubling you, please. You’ve seen me kill a man to keep you safe—albeit a monster and I’d do it again if I had to. You don’t have to be scared when you’re with me.’
Lizzie’s senses were in flames and a boldness she had never known with a man overtook her. She raised her hand to touch his face and ran her fingers over his stubble, just as she had fantasised. And then his lips brushed hers and it wasn’t just a dream.
