Enticing the Spymaster (War Girls) Read Online Free Page A

evening fell. Every man had been given a sponge bath and their wounds assessed by either a nurse or surgeon. It would have taken days without the assistance of the soldiers, a fact that left Jude genuinely grateful. Whatever else she was, she was also a nurse. She and the other Red Cross nurses thanked every one of the soldiers before they left.
    Exhaustion nibbled at her nose and fingertips, turning them cold. She desperately wanted to sit or lie down, but there was still work to do, patients to treat and wounds to bind. At least the wounded were more comfortable now. She’d suggested a rating system to make it easier to identify the most urgent cases. A simple coloured bit of yarn tied to the wrist of each man determined if he needed to be dealt with immediately, soon or if he could wait. A system that the surgeons said made getting the men through surgery much faster. No time was wasted between cases deciding who was next.
    Finally, after Jude stumbled for the fifth time in as many minutes, the chief surgeon sent her off to sleep. She agreed, needing at least a few hours of rest before she could do anything else.
    The nurses slept at the other end of the palace in what used to be the royal nursery. Some of her fondest memories were of playing there as a child whenever her parents brought her to visit her cousins. The room had looked a lot different then—sunny, filled with elegant child-sized furnishings, the walls covered with bright paintings. Now, the walls were stripped bare of all decoration and the only furniture was several vacant cots and empty medical supply crates. Her cousins were now either in hiding or exile, but Jude could almost hear them, their voices excited and laughter infectious.
    How odd that she should be here. A palace for royals now serving the machines of war.
    She turned and walked down the hall to a cloakroom where her own cot was located. Removing her soiled apron, she placed it on the floor next to her shoes, then lay down and blew out the candle, leaving her alone with her memories and her tears.
    Seeing Michael again had been a shock. Despite the uniform he wore, he looked healthy and certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Not that he’d given her any clue as to the real reason he was here. She hadn’t needed his warning about the Germans—she knew very well that they were looking for her.
    If only she’d had some warning. She’d never have allowed him to kiss her if she hadn’t been so surprised and worried.
    His kiss. She shivered at the memory of the texture of his lips, soft yet commanding, the decadent taste of his tongue and the feel of his strong hands on her. It made her want things she could never have, things that would only make her loneliness worse.
    Because for Michael, nothing came before his love of his country or his vow to serve. Certainly not a woman. Definitely not her.
    Tears trickled across her face to drip onto her pillow. Ironic really. If only the Germans knew that the fastest way to flush her out was to threaten him. She turned her head into the blankets and let herself cry her way to sleep. All that was left now was to rescue him and get home with her message.
    Jude woke some time later—not yet dawn, but the night was passing. The room still dark, she reached out to fumble with the candle. Her hand struck something hard and leathery. It took only a second for her fingers to discover laces.
    A boot.
    A man next to her bed in the dark.
    She sucked in a breath to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. Even more shocking, a body covered hers, his legs trapping hers beneath him. She hit him, but he ignored it.
    He was heavy and warm, his body’s response to hers a lengthening brand against her hip. Good God . Her breathing sped up and energy flooded her muscles. Whoever this devil was, she wouldn’t let him have what he wanted without a fight. She bucked, writhed and punched, trying to get him off her.
    His breath tickled her cheek then her ear. “Jude,