He blushed again. "Actually, I was thinking that it's cold enough to hang meat in here," he said. "But if you're willing to be seduced, I'm willing to try."
Eva smiled. She realized that she hated Ty for being an American — and thus her enemy. She also hated him for being so young. Eva hid her age well, but she knew Ty could not have been unaware of the fact that she was an older woman. Did Ty consider her to be another wartime adventure? Suddenly, she was glad of the firelight that softened her features.
Eva sat back in her chair, signaling a change in subjects. "How have you been, Ty? You look thin. Don't they have any food in London?"
"It's a bit on the scarce side," Ty said. "Then again, it's not like Ike wines and dines his staff. Dinner for him most nights is a cup of coffee and a hotdog at his desk. The man is a workaholic and most of us can barely keep up with him."
"He must be keeping busy on his visit to Washington," Eva said. "Keeping you busy as well."
"We've had a lot of meetings," Ty agreed. "In fact, I can't stay long tonight because we're due at the White House for dinner in an hour. Ike will have my hide if I’m late, but I wanted to see you."
Eva could not hide her surprise. "You are having dinner with the president?"
"That's the plan. Pretty exciting, huh? I've never met Roosevelt.” Ty suddenly looked awkward. "Geez, I hope I don't sound rude. It's not like I can bring a date, otherwise, I would bring you. This is strictly business. Not even Mamie Eisenhower will be there, and she's none too happy about having to share Ike with the president, let me tell you."
"He and the general must have a great deal to discuss."
"Oh, yeah. There are some things going on. We're going to get France back from the Krauts — sorry, I mean the Germans. But I'm not supposed to say anything else.” Ty grinned. "I mean, what if you were a spy for Hitler or something? Ike could have me shot for spilling the beans."
Eva had not been a screen star without good reason, and she gave an excellent performance now, laughing at Ty's remark that she might be a spy. Deep down, however, she felt a chill go through her. Was Ty truly joking, or had he guessed at something?
She put that thought aside as a dozen questions popped into her head. Where would the Allies attack? Would they come across the English Channel or push north from Italy? When would this happen? Surely, not before spring. Ty's comment just now about spying was the only thing that kept her from blurting out a direct question.
"I hope you're not going to be leading the attack yourself?" she asked instead.
"Me? Heck, no. I'll be back in London with Ike.” Ty paused. "Not that I wouldn't mind seeing some action. I've been thinking about asking for a transfer. I mean, it doesn't seem very brave to sit out the war safe at headquarters while the other guy is risking his neck."
Eva chose her next words carefully. The last thing she wanted was for her direct pipeline into Allied headquarters to be reassigned to a combat unit. "Anyone can wave a rifle and call himself a soldier," Eva said. "But it takes another sort of man to be a staff officer who helps plan victory."
Petra entered with a tray of food. Salty Underwood canned ham on crackers, chunks of cheese, Vienna sausages.
"If I had known you were having dinner —"
"Don't worry," Ty said, reaching for a cracker piled with ham. "I'll be too nervous to eat anything."
"Why don't you pour us a drink?" Eva said.
"Good idea," Ty said. "We need something to wash down this grub."
Petra also had brought a small pail of ice and she flicked her eyes at Ty and smiled shyly as she put the ice on the sideboard that held several bottles of liquor. Petra's gesture was not lost on Eva. "That will be all, Petra," she said, and sent the girl from the room.
Ty filled two glasses with ice, then poured a generous amount of vodka into each glass. "The Russians love this stuff," he said. "We've had a couple of them visit headquarters in London, and they drink booze like it's water."
"Russians are — how do you say — intemperate," Eva said.
"I think they were just celebrating being someplace where the Germans weren't shooting at them," Ty said, handing Eva her drink.
"The Russians visit headquarters often?" she asked.
Ty took a deep drink of his vodka. "These guys were some kind of liaisons sent by Stalin. Supposedly, they were there to meet some of the members of the British and American high command. You want to know the truth? I think Stalin sent them to spy on us. He doesn't trust the Allies. God knows, we don't trust him."
"The Russians, they are helping in the invasion?"
"No, they're keeping the Wehrmacht tied up on the Eastern Front while we make our own push.” Ty reached for another cracker. "Damn, this ham is good. This stuff is hard to find as gold over in London."
"When does all this happen?" Eva asked, trying to sound casual.
"Who knows? That's what Ike's going to figure out when we get back to London."
"I wish you were going to be here longer," Eva said. "Everything is so rushed … even tonight."
"We had some good times, Eva, didn't we?"
"I probably should not tell you this, Ty, because I do not want to be a burden on you while you are working so hard to win the war. But I think of you often. I remember the good times too."
She paused to look into Ty's face. He was staring back at her. Eva was reminded of a half-dozen scenes where she had waited for an actor to kiss her exactly at moments such as this. However, it was clear that Ty did not have a script. To help him along, she closed her eyes and leaned toward him. Their lips met, and they kissed open-mouthed, long and deep. Once they had begun, Ty's kisses grew more urgent. She let herself be forced back against the cushions of the loveseat. Ty's hands fumbled at her breasts, then seemed to be everywhere at once. Eva smiled as she thought that English girls hadn't taught her old lover much. She took one hand and guided it to her bare leg. She made encouraging noises as Ty figured out what to do next.
They made love in front of the fire. They did not bother to undress all the way; besides, the room was so cold that any bare flesh beyond the reach of the heat from the fireplace quickly became covered in goose bumps. When they finished, she nestled in Ty's arms as he pulled his uniform jacket over them both. The only sound was the pop of the burning wood.
"I have to go, Eva," Ty finally said.
"Yes," she said. "The president. You don't want to be late."
Embarrassed now, Ty awkwardly buttoned up his clothing and tucked in his shirt. Eva reached up to straighten his tie, then draped the silk scarf around his neck once more. She gave him a little smile. "You can use the telephone in the hall to call a taxicab."
He started for the door, then stopped. "Eva —"
She touched a finger to his lips. "You will write me, darling, won't you?" she said. "Promise me that, in case we do not see each other again before you return to London."
"I will," he said.
"Good night, Captain Walker."
"Good night, Frau Von Stahl."
And then he was gone, leaving Eva alone in the cold room. Quickly, she straightened her own clothes. She would not allow herself to feel used, or worse, lonely. She reminded herself that she was the one who had used him. How could she be proud of that? What kind of woman had she become? No matter. Tonight, she would have a great deal of information to radio her U-boat off the coast of America.
High above Pennsylvania Avenue, Hess watched General Eisenhower leave the hotel just before 6 o'clock. He kept his eye pressed to the rifle scope and his finger on the trigger, but the general swept out of the hotel doors and into a car waiting at the curb so swiftly that a shot never presented itself. The general was surrounded as usual by staff members, who filled two more cars. Briefly, Hess considered trying for a shot as the vehicles passed below. He might get lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the general in profile.