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Zeppelin laughed. “Oh, yeah.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from saying anything out loud, but the first thing that occurred to me was Nemesis and Ares were nowmarried. The thing he and I had briefly touched on last night in what was one of the most awkward conversations of my life.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
When my eyes met his, I sincerely hoped he didn’t.
“Z has a way about him. He recognizes people who will make good partners. I’ve seen him do it many times over the years. He’s going to be missed.”
“He will be,” I murmured.
“And, while some of those partnerships crossed the line from professional to personal, not all did.”
I nodded, wishing someone else would call, we’d receive an alert, or Macht and Reaper would show up early. Anything to end this conversation before it turned into a continuation of last night’s.
He stepped closer and brushed my mouth with his thumb. “I told you what I want to do whenever you bite your lip.”
I took a step back. “Was I? I do it without realizing. I should, um, get ready for the day.” I grabbed my case, hurried into the lavatory, shut the door, and locked it.
14
VERITY
“There’s Elise,” he said when I came out fifteen minutes later, wearing my wig, makeup, and exceedingly uncomfortable bra.
“This was a bad idea,” I said, motioning to my enhanced bosom.
“Don’t wear it.”
“Other than Schön, I haven’t met a single woman since we arrived in St. Moritz. Something tells me the men would notice if my bosom suddenly collapsed.”
“Hans is about to be arrested. When you saw Bernard, you spent most of the time under a blanket. Macht, well, if he notices, I’ll belt him.”
“Did you just say you’d belt him?” I laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Zep.”
“Jack. Or Henry. Neither would accept Macht ogling you.”
“If you really don’t think anyone will notice…”
“I don’t.”
I’d just reached the lavatory when Zeppelin grabbed my hand. “Wait.”
“Have you changed your mind? You do think someone will notice?”
He shook his head. “Let me.”
“Zeppelin…”
“Please.”
I cocked my head. “Why?”
Without answering, he put his hands on the hem of my pullover and lifted it.
“My wig.”
He carefully brought it over my head and reached around me to unfasten the bra that the prosthetics slipped into. He gently slid the straps down my arms, then set it on the table beside us. I stood before him, bare from the waist up.
