“The floor is split into two areas once you come off the landing from the stairs,” he continued. “His sleeping quarters are on the left and his office on the right. The office area is set up for meetings with his command staff, and he has maps laid out with troops and positions.
“They didn’t let me get close enough to the map to get a good look at it. They put me on a little sofa right off the stairs and I waited until Meissner came to see me. There’s nothing much to be done for scrapes and bruises, and they didn’t get any important information by questioning me. Part of my cover is my connections to very wealthy Nazi sympathizers. Wagner would have had to hold me for too long while he checked my cover story, so he took me at my word and released me.”
The blueprints didn’t tell me a lot about what I’d be walking into tonight. It showed me the structure, which was helpful, but it told me nothing about Wagner. Which Wagner would I meet tonight? The romantic gentleman who sent flowers? Or the crazed madman who wanted to see my reaction to the deaths he’d caused?
“I’ve been to the fourth floor extensively when I met with Helene and the other women,” I said. “There’s no place the Cordiers could be hiding there. There are no other rooms on these blueprints. Someone has been to every area.”
“Except for the servant stairs,” Graham said. “Homes like these typically have false walls or hidden rooms that wouldn’t be in the plans.”
“It could take hours to find a hidden room in that house,” I said.
“Which is why it’s important you keep Wagner busy long enough to do a thorough search,” George said.
I avoided Graham’s gaze because I hadn’t gotten around to asking him if my mission bothered him. I could seduce a man. I could do whatever I needed to do to save the innocent. But I was torn between becoming the spy I’d been born to be, and losing my chance to have the kind of relationship I’d never had. I thought my choices seemed heavy for a seventeen-year-old woman who’d never quite fit in wherever she was.
“I’ve got it,” I said. When I looked up, I caught Esther’s eye, and I could see the worry there before she quickly masked her expression.
“I think it’s time to get you ready,” Esther said, coming forward and taking me by the arm. “Presentation is going to be important tonight. Appearances are important to Wagner, as important as setting the scene correctly.”
I let my gaze meet that of each of the men, letting them know I wasn’t afraid to do my job and that they could count on me. I had the power to do something none of them could accomplish, and I needed to remember that. Auguste and John Armstrong both gave me a respectful nod. And George, bless his stiff-necked heart, tried to smile, but only managed to move his mustache slightly off-kilter.
And then I turned to Graham and arched a brow, hiding my feelings behind a cocky grin. He held out a hand and I put mine in his, and he shook it firmly as if I was just one of the guys. And then he jerked me forward and planted a kiss on my lips that had the others hooting with laughter.
“Don’t get killed,” he said. “And don’t ever relax your guard. Men like Wagner can smell weakness, and he’ll go in for the kill.”
I nodded and followed Esther through the fireplace and into the secret tunnel that led back to her home.
She laughed when the door closed behind us. “I’ve heard that Henry Graham’s kisses are legendary, but to see the look on your face I have to wonder what I’ve been missing all these years. I can tell you no man has ever put that look on my face before. You’ve got to pace yourself. You’re young, so you don’t want him to ruin men for you for the rest of your life. You’ll always be searching for that feeling that doesn’t quite live up to what Graham gave you.”
I didn’t tell her that Graham and I would be heading to Belgium on our next mission, and that if I had my way, we’d be partners in every part of life before we were done. Considering Graham had just gotten his appointment to take command at the Alliance headquarters in Belgium, I wanted to safeguard his secret until he was ready to tell the others.
Formal dinners were much later in the evening than I was used to back home, and it’s not like I’d be able to eat anyway on a nervous stomach. But Wagner had sent another bouquet of flowers with a note telling me to dress in my finest for dinner and that he was sending a car to pick me up at nine o’clock.
French couture clothing wasn’t as easy to come by as it had been even a few months ago, but Esther knew a seamstress who’d lost her shop when Paris had been bombed the week before and she’d escaped with not much more than the clothes on her back and come to stay with her family in Marseille.
Esther led me to her personal quarters. They were lush and opulent, and I wasn’t even able to open my mouth in protest in time to stop the maids from stripping me down to nothing and scrubbing me within an inch of my life. I was shaved and perfumed, and my hair was curled and piled stylishly on top of my head.
I was wrapped in a soft silk robe and placed in a chair, and then cream was slathered on my face before they darkened and smudged my eyelids and painted my lips the color of rubies.
“Stunning,” Esther said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Absolutely stunning. If he’s able to form
