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tang of his cologne had her wanting more … much more … A small, involuntary groan escaped her lips as his kisses rained across her neck, her eyes, and her lips. They were breathing in shallow, panting unison now, and she did nothing to stop Reece as ricochets of delight exploded through her body.

      Feeling reckless and wildly excited Dulcie could not get enough of Reece Redgrave the third. Tonight was the night she was going to lose her virginity! The alcohol she had consumed gave her an air of indestructibility. Nothing mattered now. She didn’t care one iota. They were alone in the shelter; obviously the earlier deluge had kept people away. It was so right.

      ‘Kiss me … Kiss me …’ Her voice came in small guttural bursts and she found it hard to breathe. Arching her back Dulcie accepted his exploring hands as they roamed every inch of her yielding body. She knew she had never let Wilder go so far … never let any man … go this far …

      ‘You sure are beautiful, Dulcie …’ Reece was panting now, his hands feverishly pushing up the tight, pencil-slim skirt and gently pushing his fingers beneath the rim of her silk cami-knickers, pulling at her suspenders and stroking the warm silken flesh that peeped over her stocking tops.

      ‘I never … thought … it would be … this easy.’ His words were coming in short sharp gasps now and it took a moment for their meaning to sink into the fog.

      Easy?

      All yearning disappeared suddenly, as the word sank into the craving miasma … The realisation hit Dulcie like a slap in the face.

      Easy?

      He was intimating that she was no better than the ‘Piccadilly commandos’ who plied their trade in Soho! How could he? He had been so polite. So charming and so, so convincing.

      Dulcie opened her eyes and saw him, lost in the grip of passion, oblivious to anything around him. The glazed expression of his once-beautiful eyes told her that he wasn’t seeing her at all. She could have been anybody.

      Lifting her head, feeling suddenly soiled, Dulcie looked at Reece, lost in the same trance of ecstasy she had been consumed by just moments before. This isn’t what she wanted any more. They hadn’t even stopped to … to … Oh no, she thought frantically. How could she have been so stupid?

      ‘Get off me!’ Dulcie cried, pushing him away, but he was too strong for her. All desire was gone now and tears ran down her face. It was futile to try and get him off her. He was too far gone to stop now.

      The loud-mouthed, uncouth girls back at the munitions factory who boasted about their nocturnal exploits with American servicemen flashed through her mind. She had scorned them as common, unladylike. But here she was, doing exactly the same thing. Worse, in fact. She’d never heard any of the girls say they had been seduced in an air-raid shelter by a man they had met only minutes before!

      ‘Get off me!’ She had gone too far, she’d behaved like an alley cat. She hadn’t meant to lead him on … It wasn’t her fault! ‘Leave me alone, leave me … .’ But it was too late, she could tell. And, as inexperienced as she was, Dulcie knew he was spent, as every muscle relaxed on top of her.

      The deed, she refused to call it lovemaking, was over in mere moments. It would have taken longer to make a cup of tea, she realised as he got up and fixed his pants and tucked in his shirt without looking at her. It would have taken longer to smoke the cigarette he was now offering her. Then, to her absolute horror, she saw Reece Redgrave slide to his knees and with his head buried in her lap he sobbed like a baby. She didn’t know what to do. She had never seen a man behave like this before. He was saying something, his words barely coherent.

      ‘I am so sorry, Dulcie, please forgive me, there was nothing I could do … please believe me, Dulcie. I am so, so sorry, I beg of you …’

      Dulcie, stunned, dazed, almost without thinking, reached out and stroked his thick black hair before lifting his head to see tears rolling freely down his face. She was surprised when he took her hands, and cupping them in his he kissed them and she could see the pain of shame in his eyes.

      ‘I couldn’t help myself,’ he said, his eyes looking almost dead now. ‘I just couldn’t stop … I didn’t realise until it was too late that you were a … that it was your first time, too.’

      Dulcie looked at him and sighed. How could she face anybody now? Wilder didn’t matter any more, he had shown his true colours and she wasn’t going there again. David … Poor, fractured David … he would be so disgusted if he knew what she had done. She would never be able to look anybody, not even Olive, in the face again.

      Quickly, covering herself, trying to tidy herself up, she knew that when Sally and George went away it was plainly obvious what had taken place; the sun had shone from their eyes. Their love oozed from every pore. But this wasn’t love. This was madness. And she had encouraged it. If the truth be known, she had longed for him to make love to her … But for all the wrong reasons.

      ‘I can’t say sorry enough, I didn’t mean to … to force myself on you. It wasn’t like that, honest it wasn’t.’ For a long, difficult moment Dulcie looked into the face of an inexperienced, frightened young man who, like herself, had been a virgin.

      No doubt he was scared of what she would do now, Dulcie thought, and wondering if she would report him to the authorities. But she couldn’t do that knowing she was as much to blame as he was. More so if the truth was known, because she could have stopped him going too far any time, until …

      He was a long way from home, she knew. And, given his show of utter remorse now, she doubted there was anybody he would tell. Reece looked at her and said, his voice gruff, hesitant, ‘Back at the base they said English girls were …’ He couldn’t finish telling her of the lies he had been fed from his buddies back at camp, but Dulcie knew what he meant, she had heard the girls in the munitions factory, and for a moment she wanted to … she wanted to … Oh, God, she wanted to tell him it was all right.

      But it wasn’t all right. He had been tricked into thinking that English girls were easy. And by the way she had seen some girls acting she could see how some of their American allies would think that, too. It still wasn’t right though, she thought.

      Hurriedly she stood and fixed her clothes, smoothed down the creased skirt that had been so immaculately pressed and roughly pushed her damp, tangled hair from her face before moving towards the shelter’s exit. But Reece pulled her back.

      ‘You can’t go out there yet!’ His eyes were a mixture of distress and apology. ‘The all-clear hasn’t yet sounded. I promise I won’t do anything, please don’t go,’ he pleaded. ‘It’s not safe.’

      Dulcie edged back into the shelter without saying a word. What a way to remember something that should be forever in your mind as the beautiful first time. Slowly she edged towards the wooden bench and resigned herself to the fact that whether she liked it or not she and Reece were stranded together for the duration. And as she listened to the crump and boom of the battle beyond the air-raid shelter Dulcie likened it to the conflict going on inside her now, and she knew that as soon as the air raid was over she would be out of here so fast, he would never see her again.

      FIVE

      ‘You’re very quiet today, Drew, is there something wrong?’ Tilly asked.

      Drew shook his head and smiled but Tilly wasn’t convinced; they were so in love, with an almost uncanny perception of each other’s moods, that she couldn’t help noticing when something was bothering him, even when he didn’t appear to be outwardly worrying. But try as she might she couldn’t get him to tell her what was wrong. She decided to leave it for now and change the subject, as she didn’t want Drew to feel she was pressurising him into telling her something he wished to keep to himself. No matter how much she longed to know.

      ‘It isn’t looking good for our boys in the desert, is it, Drew?’

      ‘No, Tilly, it isn’t,’ he replied, watching her make little knots in the long grass she had plucked from

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