Arabella…
“What is our signal to abort the mission and start shooting our way out?”
I’m beginning to see why Logan might find Mason a wee bit fashin.’ “Two fingers tapped on my left palm and three on the right,” I repeat obediently.
“And if someone attempts to take you for a medical procedure if I’m not there?” Mason is handsome, like all the MacTavish men, but his eyes are chilly and he never seems to smile.
“I carry on weeping and wailing, screaming that I need ye or I canna do it.”
“We should switch to Italian now,” he frowns. “Even in private moments so we don’t slip up. So, again.Cosa fai se il personale medico si avvicina a te e io non ci sono?”
“Piango e insisto perché tu sia lì con me.”I repeat.
As Giulia, I’m dressed in the height of Italian glamour in a Gucci dress so tight that it’s cutting off the circulation in my legs. She’s a bit shorter than I am, thank the lord, so I’m not having to wear sky-high heels. Mason looks effortlessly elegant, he’s wearing his light blue Kiton suit like it’s an everyday thing, though it’s likely that for him, it is. The hardest thing to change out was my wedding ring. Guilia’s is a monstrously huge thing with a half a dozen rubies surrounding the diamond, so I’m wearing a replica.
“Sei pronta, mia amata moglie?”(Are you ready, my lovely wife?) He’s looking deeply into my eyes, but I know he’s making sure I can read his lips.
“Sì, tesoro, certo,”(Yes darling, of course,)I simper.
Mason and I approachThe Zephyrwith a herd of porters hauling our luggage. Despite all our practice, sweat is pouring down my back and beading on my forehead.They’re going to catch us. I dinnae look anything like Giulia. It’ll be my fault if the mission fails and-
“Stai andando bene, Giulia. Ancora arroganza.(You’re doing fine, Guilia. More arrogance.) Mason whispers in my ear.
Raising my chin, I walk up the gangplank like Iownthis ship.
Raged - Scottish slang for pissing someone off.
A wee bit fashin’ - Scottish slang for someone who’s tiresome.
Tadger - Scottish slang for cock.
Chapter Thirty-Two
In which we discover just how grotesque human beings can be.
Logan…
By the time we leave port, all ten of our team have infiltrated the ship. Bella and Mason are taking a leisurely walk along the upper deck, the wind is sending strands of her blonde wig into her face and playfully, Mason brushes a bit off her cheek.
When this mission is over, I’m going to beat the shite out of him.
“Easy, lad.” Jack’s next to me, stacking boxes on a dolly to take to the kitchen. “Ye staring up at them like ye smell of brimstone and you’re ready to vaporize his soul isn’t winning ye any points on the undercover effort here.”
Tearing my gaze away with an effort, I shift the cases of wine I’m carrying. “Aye. Let’s get to work.”
“Cost ye to say that, dinnae it?”
“Feck off, Jack.” His laughter follows me into the storage cooler and I’m starting a list of cousins I’m going to punch in the head when this is done.
Captain Anderson strolls into the cavernous dining room just before dinner service.
“Welcome aboardThe Zephyr, honored guests!” He smiles benignly. The sun is setting behind him and the wall of windows overlooking the ocean filters a golden glow over the tables with their pristine linens and elaborate flower arrangements.
The unwitting donors cheer raucously.
“I would like you to raise your glass - of water or juice, of course, no alcohol until the final party,” he chuckles indulgently, “to a toast to each other. Your contributions to medical science will immeasurably benefit those who are ill, allowing them to live much longer, healthier lives. To you, my new friends!”
Jack and I hold our trays, expressionless as these poor souls drink to their own deaths.
