“So I can steal a kiss,” he said. “Last time you kissed me. I feel I should return the favor.” “I knew that kiss was going to come back and haunt me,” I retorted. “Hopefully your daydreams, not your nightmares. Would you shoot me if I laid a smack on you, Comrade Senior Sergeant Pavlichenko?” Kitsenko went on, grinning. “I might.”
