Free Charades by Ann Logan Page B

look of wonder and love on her face, however, hadn’t disappeared yet. If only it never would!
         When the bellboy at the hotel showed them to their connecting rooms, Wulf insisted they switch. “My room is bigger and better than yours. You must take mine instead. I insist.”
         “If you say so,” Mercy agreed, pleased with the spare elegance of their rooms. “To be really fair, though, you should have the larger one. You’re much bigger than I am.”
         “No. I want you to have the better room,” he said as he smiled and closed the connecting door.
         Mercy unpacked in a frenzy, bursting to get out and see the fascinating city of Berlin. So much history contained in one small area! To her, only the Great Wall of China vied for supremacy with the famous Berlin Wall, even though it had almost all disappeared.
         Wulf opened the door when she knocked and pulled her into his arms. Oh, God, she loved the way he kissed. So passionate, yet so gentle; so hungry, yet so unhurried. When their lips parted, she had a hard time refocusing her thoughts. Would it always be like this? Mercy noticed him glancing at the bed. Was he thinking of seducing her? It wouldn’t be too hard to do at this point, she thought, feeling the flush of heat rise to her cheeks. If he suggested they anticipate their marriage vows, she knew she wouldn’t resist, in spite of her worries about her performance. She felt a vague disappointment when he pushed her away.
         “Let’s go,” Wulf said, his voice sounded hoarse even to his ears. He needed to leave. Now. Maybe they shouldn’t have adjoining rooms after all. How in the hell would he sleep knowing only a slim door separated them—an unlocked one at that?
         Outside on the sidewalk, Mercy spun around and said, “It’s a shame we can’t stay in Berlin a little longer before we leave for Potsdam. I’m dying to see everything, the Brandenburg Gate, the Reichstag, and all the other famous sights. Is there much left of the old wall?”
         He grinned, looking forward to seeing the sights through her unsophisticated eyes. “There are parts of the wall left in certain outlying areas. Don’t forget the wall measured well over a foot thick in some places and surrounded all of Berlin, miles and miles of it. It’s going to take a lot of jack-hammers a long time to tear it all down. I could probably find you an old Russian uniform or some Russian medals as souvenirs.”
         “No,” Mercy laughed. “I just want to absorb the mood, the smells, and the dazzle of Berlin. It’s a fascinating city, isn’t it?”
         Her eyes shone up at him. Damn! He wanted to give her anything and everything she could ever desire. Instead, Wulf tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and walked them past the up-scale fashion stores on the way to the burnt-out tower of the Kaiser Wilhelm Gedachtniskirche.
         He noticed her glancing back. “Would you like to go in one of the stores?” He’d like nothing better than to drown her in haute couture designer outfits that flattered instead of detracted.
         “No, not yet. There’s plenty of time for shopping. But soon, okay? I won’t buy anything. I just want to look.”
         “That’s right. You won’t buy anything. I will. Come on. I want to see that outfit on you.” He pointed to a moss green suit in the Escada window. He could just imagine what that color would do to her green eyes.
         “No, no,” Mercy protested, laughing and pointing at the old ruin. “That’s much higher on my list of to-do’s than shopping. Let’s go there first.”
         When they reached the monument she stood quiet, like thousands of others who had been overcome by the bleakness of the charred ruin, a fitting monument to the futility of war.
         “It makes me shiver with revulsion for those responsible and ache with pity for the innocent,” she finally said. “How do the people live here