* * *

"You're doing it all wrong. Let me help you," He said, making fun of my attempt. His hands reached for me, and I jerked back. He stiffened, and I glared.

"I'm sorry about earlier,"

"What took you so long to apologize?" I said.

His eyebrows knitted together, "I didn't feel like you needed the apology, especially after you threw me out of your house and tossed a can of beans at my head," He retorted.

"Seriously? You didn't want to apologize first? And it was a can of cream," I told him, crossing my arms. We just looked at each other.

"Is it done?" I asked, gesturing to my eyebrow.

He shook his head, "It has to be stitched. I told you that earlier," He scolded.

"You are not putting a needle in my skin,"

"Why not? You need it. It's going to scar,"

"Let it scar," I told him.

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, "Why are you so difficult?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Tea?" I asked, going past the counter, opening the cupboard, and taking out Typhoo Tea.

"No, I hate it," He told me. I clicked my tongue and put it back in the cupboard. He came over to the counter, leaning on it, watching me closely.

"You want that to scar?" He asked, reaching out towards me, and I caught his hand before touching my temple.

"Please, don't do that," I told him softly.

"Why not? You regret what you said this morning," He told me, dropping his hand. My eyes snapped to him.

"I never said that,"

"You didn't have to. I can see it,"

"What else did she tell you? Elisabet?" He wondered.

"What?"

"She had to say something to get under your skin; what was it?" He asked again. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore, but falling loosely into his face, barely grazing his eyes.

"She told me that you were in Auschwitz," I told him. I kept his gaze as he answered.

"That is correct. I didn't stay long. I was resistant to how they were, being towards the prisoners. The other Officers didn't like that, but according to Hitler, I was important, so I was promoted to Captain and sent here,"

"Did you kill her husband?"

He was silent for a moment before he chuckled, "She told you that, I take it? Imogen, I just told you I couldn't kill in a Concentration Camp,"

"If it wasn't you, then who? She truly believes it was you," I told him.

"Probably another officer; we all look alike in uniform," He told me.

"I'd agree," I smiled at him. He smiled back and reached across the counter to my hand, and he was warm, and I laced mine through his.

"You know many other women are fraternizing with us Germans," He told me, squeezing my hand.

"Are any of them Americans also?" I asked. His gaze dropped, and I spoke again, "I guess if I've been living in Paris for over five years now, I can be considered a French woman," I told him.

"Yes, yes you could,"

He leaned over, resting his head on my shoulder. I sighed, breathing in his scent, smiling into his hair as a clean lemon scent took me over. I was happy. This was happy for me. Even though our lives were never meant to cross- they ran into each other and never untangled. He wrapped his arms around me, and I kissed the top of his head. It is unconventional love. But love is all worth it.

"Wait here," I told him excitingly.

"What's up your sleeve?" He beamed.

"Just wait here," I told him as I ran up the stairs into my room. The Picnic basket was still sitting on my dresser, and I quickly grabbed it and went back upstairs. He had moved to the bookcase, examining my photographs when he heard me come back down.

"Would you like to have a picnic, Mr. Ritter?" I asked him. I made my way to the counter, "Have you ever had Schnecke?" I proposed setting the small pastries into small cute boxes.

"It's my favorite dessert, Ms. Gallagher," He told me happily.

"Great, we'll have that, and I think I have some crackers and cheese over there, do you mind?" I asked, pointing to the far cupboard.

"Not at all," He told me. I grabbed a jug of milk- it didn't have much left, but it would have to do- and set it on the counter. He placed the crackers and cheese into the basket and kissed me on the lips, and I smiled and kissed him back. He helped me set everything up on the rug, and after, we admired our handiwork.

"I say we did a grand job, don't you?" He asked.

"Now let's eat,"

---

"..he jumped off the cliff, and we were all yelling, "You're gonna die!" you know jokingly," I said, getting serious.

"Wait, he didn't die, did he?" Callan asked.

"No, but he did lose his swim trunks," I said through laughs.

"He lost his dignity that day, I bet,"

"Oh, yeah! He didn't even realize until his girlfriend said something,"

"You mean he walked out of the lake? Did he not feel a breeze?"

"Not a thing," I giggled.

"That poor man," He chuckled, and I smiled at him.

"How was the Schnecke?"

We had eaten everything, and now I was full. I was lying beside him, my head on his shoulder while his hand played with my fingers. He was warm against me, and I loved it.

"Do you remember the first time I saw you?" He asked.

I looked up at him, "Of course, it was in the Bakery,"

"No, that was the first time we spoke, but the first time I saw you were smelling a melon at the market. It was a week after the Occupation, and I had wanted an apple or orange, anything. So I had walked down to the market, and there you were. You were in a red and black striped blouse tucked into a black skirt. I remember thinking that it was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. And then I saw your smile and brown eyes. I was a goner. A few of my friends had joked that you were a bookworm with your large glasses, but I had thought it was rather sexy," He told me.

"Sexy? You thought my glasses were sexy?" I gasped. He slid down, so we were face to face and smiled.

"Still do,"

Our lips touched briefly. But I pulled him into me, deepening the kiss. I felt his hand clench my hip and then travel down my leg, his hot fingers sliding up my skin, bringing my gown with them. His lips nipped at my neck, and I gasped, running my fingers through his hair. My body felt like it was on fire. I was heating up. Oh, wait, I'm still in my robe. I attempted to pull it off, but he stopped me and unwrapped it himself. His cold fingers ran down my arm and back up, pulling down my sleeve. I wasn't wearing a bra, I had taken it off earlier, and I wasn't scared. He looked at me for permission, and I nodded. His hand caressed my breast, and I smiled and leaned my head back when he brought his lips to my flesh.

I moaned aloud, "Callan,"

He kept making me writhe underneath him. His lips were working wonders, and I gripped his shoulders.

"Kiss me," I breathed, and his lips found mine again. Our tongues danced together, and I pulled at his shirt, bringing it over his head.

He was sculpted to perfection. I ran my fingers down his stomach and back up, bringing his lips to mine. His hand found my chest again, and I moaned into his mouth as his other hand rested on my hip, sliding down my inner thigh. My eyes shot open, and I stiffened, and he noticed immediately and pulled away.

"Sorry," He breathed heavily against my shoulder, "I got carried away,"

"I'm sorry- I'm just not ready for that," I told him meekly.

"Don't apologize. If I'm moving too fast, doing something you don't like, let me know," Callan told me. I nodded.

"Could we just kiss?" I asked.

"I can do that," He smiled seductively and rolled over onto me, causing me to shriek with laughter.

Sunlight beamed through the blinds, and I stirred in his arms. I was on my side, using his arm as a pillow. His other arm draped over my waist, and he was against my back. His arm tightened, pulling me close.

"Awake?" he said softly in English.

"No- not entirely," I said back.

"Good. Because I'm not moving,"

I smiled, "I don't want you to,"