wicked laugh as she shook her fair hair down. “A German soldier retrieved it for me, bless him.”
Eve smiled, making herself a pallet of blankets next to the narrow bed, but the smile was an effort. She hadn’t been smiling very much since last night, and Lili, in the middle of another story, seemed to notice.
“All right, what’s wrong with you?”
Eve looked at the leader of the Alice Network. In her old nightdress, Lili appeared far younger than her thirty-five years, her blond hair bushy and wild like that of a little girl who had been playing rough all day. But her eyes were old and knowing, and the sharp edges of her cheekbones pressed against her paper-thin skin. Don’t burden her, Eve thought with a pang that hit straight under the breastbone. She suddenly understood Violette’s grim protectiveness, because now Eve felt it too. Lili carried so much, and she made the burden look light—but it was wearing her thin as a blade.
“Merde,” Lili said in exasperation. “Out with it!”
“It’s not important—”
“Let me be the judge of that. You’re no good to me if you crack up.”
Eve sank down on her makeshift pallet below the edge of the bed, staring at her folded hands. “René B-Bordelon wishes to seduce me.” The words fell like weights.
Lili tilted her head. “Are you certain? You don’t strike me as an accomplished player in the game of seduction, if you’ll pardon me for saying so.”
“He licked my n-neck. Then he said he wanted to have me. Yes, I’m certain.”
“Quelle bête,” Lili said softly. Taking out her little silver case of cigarettes, she lit two. “Normally one discusses bad men over a stiff drink, but a smoke will have to do. Take it! Clears the mind and kills a hungry stomach.”
Eve imitated Lili’s two-fingered hold, then hesitated, quoting her mother. “Tobacco is a g-gentleman’s vice, not a lady’s.”
“Tais-toi. We’re soldiers in skirts, not ladies, and we need a damned smoke.”
Eve set the cigarette to her lips, inhaling. She coughed, but she liked the taste at once. Bitter, and she’d tasted bitterness in her mouth since the moment last night when René stepped close.
“So,” Lili continued, matter-of-fact. “Bordelon wants you. The question is what happens when he presses the issue. How much trouble will he make for you, if you refuse? Would he report you to the Germans?”
She was seeking Eve’s professional estimation, clearly. Eve paused, taking another sip of smoke and coughing less. Her stomach rolled sickly, but more from the thought of René than the cigarette. “He wouldn’t b-bother the Germans with a personal grudge; he saves his favors till he n-needs them. But he’d likely fire me. He’s not used to b-being refused anything.”
“We could find you a new post,” Lili said, but Eve shook her head.
“Is there another place like Le Lethe? Where I could g-get good information twice a week? Where I learn the k-k-k”—striking her own knee with her fist until the word came free—“k-kaiser is coming, and on what t-train? No.” Eve dragged a swallow of smoke all the way down into her lungs this time, coughing so hard tears came to her eyes. “You n-n-n-need someone in Le Lethe.”
“Yes,” Lili acknowledged. “Would he fire you for refusing him?”
“I have to assume he would.”
“Then there is one option.” Lili looked up at the ceiling, blowing a smoke ring. “Will you sleep with René Bordelon?”
Eve stared at the glowing end of her cigarette. “If I have to.”
It was almost a relief to get the words out. She’d been circling them since last night, inspecting them from every angle. The idea made her sick and scared, but so what? Why did it matter if something scared you, when it simply had to be done anyway?
“A man of his age who chooses a girl he thinks is seventeen will assume he is getting a virgin.” Lili sounded matter-of-fact. “Are you?”
Eve couldn’t be quite so nonchalant no matter how much she wanted to be, so she just nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“Putain de merde,” Lili swore, stubbing out her cigarette. “If you are really going to do this thing, you must please him in bed so you can continue to get more out of him. Otherwise you are buying a temporary reprieve from dismissal for a very high price.”
Eve had no idea what it meant to please a man in bed—frankly, her imagination stopped the moment she imagined René Bordelon unbuttoning his perfectly tailored shirt. She felt herself blanch, and