Rozaliya smiled and took his arm. "Rosa," she whispered, as they slipped out into the street.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

She pulled closer to him as a gust of wind, chilly in the early spring, raised her skin into goose pimples. "Can I get one of your cigarettes?"

He pulled a pack from his pocket, allowed her to take one, and tucked another between his narrow lips before lighting it. Then he leaned close to her and lit her cigarette off his, his cold blue eyes boring into her dark eyes.

Rozaliya glanced away. It was easy to look embarrassed under his penetrating gaze. She didn't want him to look too deeply into her soul, lest he see the truth of her plan. "Where shall we walk?" Her voice was husky from the first drag off her cigarette. T...

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