George nearly reached for his rifle when he felt someone bump into him, but when he turned around-his cigarette damn near dropped from his mouth: class-A broad, hair that could put Rita Hayworth to shame...strange clothing but seeing how they fit her, he wasn't complaining.
His expression went from shock to grinning. "Hey, Sweetheart, you could say I'm new. Just 'flew in'. You from the WAC, WAVES maybe?" That could be the only reason he could think of why an American woman would be in London.
Luz suddenly remembered his manners and pulled out the bag of cigarettes. "Smoke?"