1. Dress
NOTHING BOOSTS A girl’s confidence like a nice dress. I was almost sure of that. Especially if said girl had spent nearly twenty-five years of her life neglecting herself and worrying about not being good enough. And over-confidence was a less serious sin than distrust in oneself.
Or so I hoped.
Since I returned from Berlin after having found myself in the middle of the Kristallnacht pogrom—the Night of the Broken Glass—something had changed within me. Well, more thansomething. I was a da Vinci’s beast, a creature capable of shapeshifting, and while that sounded incredible, the transformation required a lot of energy and confidence. When I’d started working on getting out my beast at Raven Park, I’d possessed neither. I’d had to go through a hard journey of pain and desperation to reach a point where I felt confident about who I was. Even though I wasn’t human.
I twirled around in front of the wall mirror in my bedroom, smoothing down my dark-red dress. The colour complemented my auburn hair, or so my roommate, Peggy, had said. I’d chosen this dress because it had a plunging neckline that dipped into the valley between my breasts. Not too much to be scandalous—or freezing in Devonshire’s winter—but deep enough to show the top of my breasts. It also hugged my curves, enhancing the flare of my hips.
“You look great,” Peggy said from her vanity, applying a dark-pink lipstick.
“Back to you.” I fixed a wayward lock of hair and winked at her.
The bottle-green dress she wore enhanced her amber eyes, so similar to mine. Amber eyes were the distinctive features of da Vinci’s beasts. But her long, slender legs gave her a more elegant stance than I had.
She glanced at the clock on the wall, right next to one of the countless portraits of da Vinci that were scattered around the manor. ‘Nothing can be loved or hated until it is first understood,’ the quote underneath the portrait read.
“We’re perfectly on time,” she said, batting her false eyelashes. “AlthoughThe Nutcrackeralways starts later than scheduled.”
“The Nutcrackerbefore Christmas. What’s more classic? I’m so excited.” I slid on my black Mary Jane shoes that matched my handbag, loving the resulting outfit. My life in Raven Park rotated around training, sweating, and taking showers. Wearing a nice dress and going out for the afternoon was a nice change.
Peggy stood up, letting her bias-cut skirt fall over her legs. “When are you and Roy going to see Commander Allen?”
At the mention of Roy, my skin became sensitive to the soft fabric touching it, and my breath came out a little faster. Hearing Roy’s name gave my heart a good excuse to pound harder. But I refused to acknowledge how my body reacted to him. We weren’t a couple. We weren’t lovers, and not because I didn’t want that.
Roy was my new mentor. For now. During our flight back to London from Berlin, he’d been very clear about the fact that he didn’t want to be my mentor or partner for long, that he would find me another partner to train with. That we couldn’t be close. Not as close as I wanted. That the world would end if we kissed again. I guessed it wasn’t a coincidence that ‘mentor’ and ‘tormentor’ were so similar.
After giving me a last kiss, he’d also added that we shouldn’t have any romantic entanglements. As if we’d ever had any. There had been a kiss or two, but in the week we’d spent in Berlin, chased by the SS while helping my Jewish friends leave Germany, Roy hadn’t ravished me. Hadn’t taken me with unbridled passion. Hadn’t declared he loved me. He’d been a perfect—boring—gentleman. Curse him.
“After the Christmas break.” I avoided Peggy’s gaze, lest she see the longing glimmering there. “If Allen wants to see us at all. He doesn’t seem concerned about what Roy and I reported from Berlin.”
A soft huff left her. “Any idiot can see the Nazis want a war. What’s so difficult to understand?”
Until I’d seen what the Nazis had done during Kristallnacht, I’d thought they were only trying to rebuild their country from unemployment and poverty. That they didn’t want another war. How wrong I had been. I couldn’t completely blame the British Ministry of Defence for not believing that the Nazis had to be stopped now. No one wanted a war. Aside from the Nazis, that is. But Roy and I had collected so much evidence that proved how the Nazis were preparing for a new war that someone had to listen to us. Only that conservative backbencher called Churchill understood the danger Hitler posed for Europe. Except that no one was taking him seriously, either.
A chill worked its way through me, chasing away the warmth from the excitement, as I remembered how the Nazis had set Jewish shops and synagogues on fire while raiding Jewish houses.
“What does Roy say about this?” Peggy asked.
I stared at the shiny tips of my shoes. “He isn’t an optimist. He thinks no one will listen, but as long as we spread the word, the message will reach the right people.” We? I kept using that word, didn’t I?
Because I wouldn’t be helping him. He didn’t want my help. He didn’t want me. The spy game was too dangerous for me, too complicated for a novice, and too demanding for someone with little experience. His words, not mine. Yes, maybe he wanted to protect me, but he also didn’t think I could contribute to the job while I was darn sure I could. Oh well, his loss.
“And anyway, Roy has been quite busy too,” I added. Very busy, judging by how little I’d seen of him. I missed him. Even though he didn’t want any romantic involvement with me, I missed talking to him; I missed the way he smiled when he teased me; I missed his brief but intense touches.
A knock came from the door, breaking my dangerous train of thought. “Kristin? May I come in?” as if summoned by my thoughts, the man in question asked from the other side.
“Dammit,” Peggy muttered under her breath, rushing to open the door. “Sir.”
He strode into the room in one of his expensive Moss Bros suits, a leather folder tucked under his arm. His presence commanded attention. Not that he meant to, but the sheer size of his body and the aura of menace that surrounded him drew every gaze to him. The flash of his amber eyes made me tickle in all the wrong places.
“At ease, cadet.” Roy’s tone rolled out deep and commanding, as if he were born to lead.
I ran a hand over the tight bodice of my dress again, enjoying his stare lingering on me. The dress hugged my curves, and the make-up didn’t do any harm, either. I wasn’t above playing dirty. So Roy didn’t think we should have a romantic entanglement? Well, I was ready to show him how wrong he was. If he liked me a little as I suspected, he wouldn’t be completely immune to my…debateable charm, would he? Lord, I’d paid myself a compliment. It sounded ridiculous talking aboutmycharm. I’d never considered myself a charming woman, but I’d never thought it possible a man like Roy would have kissed me, either. His kisses and touches had boosted my confidence. Really, the whole situation was his fault, not mine. But since he’d kissed me, everything seemed possible.
For a split second, Roy’s thick eyelashes fanned over his sharp cheeks as his gaze roamed over me, like a slow caress. Heat darkened his eyes, and tension bunched the muscle along his jaw. His lips parted, as if he were inhaling my scent.
Yes. It was the effect I wanted. The lust didn’t last, though. His usual coldness came back faster than I could blink. I’d experienced a sneeze that had lasted longer. He recomposed himself, tugging at the hem of his dark jacket and adjusting it over the snug fit of his waistcoat. No padding was needed for his muscled, broad shoulders. The waistcoat stretched over his chest, its fabric threatening to tear with each breath he took.