Free Charades by Ann Logan Page A

she’d curled up like a kitten next to him. Her dark, glossy curls reached out, calling to him, begging him to twirl them around his fingers. Her face, serene as a Madonna, pleaded for his touch. He’d never seen such beautiful, clear skin, the light olive complexion showing just a hint of color in her cheeks. It still mesmerized him that she didn’t wear makeup except for a little lipstick and mascara. Her naturally animated looks came through in spite of her efforts to downplay them.
         Why hadn’t Hazel taken her in hand and gotten her to dress better? And somewhere in her past, she’d been hurt by a man, seriously hurt. Anyone who could harm someone like her had to be a real bastard. But wouldn’t he ultimately do the same thing? For the millionth time, Wulf wished he felt just good, old-fashioned lust. That would’ve been so much easier to deal with than this damnable twisting, stabbing feeling he experienced every time he looked at her. His tortured conscience pleaded silently for time to stop. Hell, until now he hadn’t even known he had a conscience.
         Even if he could go back, it wouldn’t help. He’d worked too long and too hard for his father’s acceptance to change anything, in spite of how he felt about Mercy. The money the Organization obtained for Israel would definitely better his relationship with his father. Wasn’t that what he’d always wanted?
         Mercy sighed in her sleep and rubbed her head against his shoulder. For the first time, Wulf found himself totally out of his element. She held all the high cards, and he held nothing. He, the consummate negotiator, had been defeated by a woman, one who held his heart in her hand and didn’t even know it.
         He wasn’t sure how the Organization planned to handle her once they reached Germany and before he knew her, he hadn’t cared. Knowing Hazel, she had probably arranged it so Mercy would feel guilty if she didn’t meet her grandfather and reveal whatever she learned from him to the Organization. He didn’t need to know the whole scenario, Wulf thought cynically. He just had to get her there. Now, he’d be damned if he was going to let them bully or intimidate her.
         Wulf settled himself in his seat, listening to the lulling hum of the powerful engines and the murmured conversations in the cabin. There was little hope that something, anything, would allow her to continue to love him the way she did now. Once she knew how he’d deceived her. Wulf swallowed his self-disgust and pulled Mercy closer, laying his cheek against her satin curls.
    * * *
         After landing in the bustling Frankfurt airport and making it through German customs, they took a shuttle to Berlin, where Wulf hired a BMW sedan. They automatically slipped into speaking German. Mercy clearly reveled in the chance to use her language skills. Her fascination with all the new sights and sounds from the airport to downtown Berlin caused Wulf to chuckle in amusement. It was as though she was trying to visually gobble everything as quickly as possible.
         “You act like a little girl at the circus for the first time,” he told her.
         “I know. I’m so excited, I think I could burst.”
         “Wait until we get to the hotel, okay?”
         “When will I meet your family?” Mercy asked as soon as they’d registered at the small, but elegant, hotel off the Kurfurstendamm, the main boulevard in Berlin. “I want to make a good impression. Are you sure they’ll like me?”
         He had half a heart to turn her around and take her right back to America. “We’ll see them tomorrow in Potsdam. I wanted to have a little time alone with you first. Today we should just get out and do a little walking. Would you like that?”
         “Oh, yes,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling. Her nervousness and clumsiness, he noticed, had decreased over the last week, and she’d stopped wearing her glasses except to read. The dazed