5
Merde is right,Omar thought.
They’d stepped in it before the mission even got off the ground.Every undercover operation went sideways at some point—usually not at the outset.though.The presence of the sitting Vice President’s son and his Secret Service detail was an unexpected development, and not a good one.
They thanked the agents for the drinks and carried them across the bar to the small table in the corner, ignoring the agents’ twin scowls.When they reached the spot, Omar set down his drink and pulled out Marielle’s chair.As she sat, she looked up at him with a loving expression before shifting her gaze to the other occupied table.
Good.She understood why he chose that seat for her.
As a rule, he didn’t sit with his back to a door.But in this particular instance, it was important that she have a clear line of sight.Before they’d left for the airstrip, she’d dug in her heels and refused to trade her glasses for contact lenses.The equipment team, knowing when they’d lost a battle, had hurriedly outfitted her with frames that would record when she pressed the button concealed in the screw connecting the frames to the left arm.So while he studied the curve of her cheek and the sweep of her hair, she adjusted her glasses to surreptitiously start recording and studied the group across the aisle.Once she’d captured everyone at the table, she readjusted the frames to turn off the recorder.
McCloud had drilled into them that they had limited recording space and would be unable to upload the footage before they reached Marseille.They had to be judicious about how they used the resource.
Omar lifted Marielle’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, registering movement in his peripheral vision as he did so.
“Idris is looking at us,” she murmured as he pressed his lips against her warm, smooth skin.
He nodded his understanding.
She raised her glass, and he mirrored the motion.“To us,” she said, just loud enough to be heard at the other table.
“To my exquisite bride,” he replied at the same volume, “and to the beginning of an unforgettable adventure.”
A faint flush stained her cheeks.Impressive.He didn’t know she could blush on command.
They clinked their glasses together and then sipped the pale yellow liquor, staring deeply into one another’s eyes.The tangy citrus was bright on his tongue and dangerously luscious.Uh-oh.Please, please nurse your drink, Elle.
Their performance had the intended effect.
Poppy slid off Hampton’s lap and tottered toward them in her sky-high heels.
“Are you on your honeymoon?”she cooed.
Marielle blinked up at her, feigning surprise.“Are you?—?”
“I am,” the pop star confirmed before she could finish the sentence.“Poppy Jones, in the flesh.All of it.”She laughed, gesturing toward her micro-mini dress.
Marielle tittered.“You wear it well.I’m Margaux.Margaux Irfan.And this is my husband, Oscar.”She waved a hand across the table.
Poppy turned toward Omar, and he smiled.“Love your music.”
She beamed and then reiterated her question.“So, honeymooners?”
“No,” Omar said, reciting the background they’d been given, “we’ve been married for a year—well, almost a year.We’re celebrating our first anniversary.”
She squealed and turned to her friends.“Brad, it’s their anniversary!”
“Come, join us.”The statement, accompanied by an imperious wave, was more a command than an invitation.
Omar locked in on Idris Mahmoud’s profile.A slight tightness around his mouth was the only indication that he didn’t particularly appreciate Hampton taking charge.And, after a beat, the tightness vanished.
And when Marielle made noises of protest, it was Mahmoud who twisted in his chair with an open, friendly expression.“Please, I insist.We’d be honored.”
They picked up their drinks and moved to Mahmoud’s table.Marielle took the seat next to his companion, and Omar claimed the seat across from her.Poppy’s chair was next to his, but she left the seat empty.Instead, she draped herself across Hampton’s lap.
Mahmoud gestured around the table, introducing his companions.“You probably recognize Brad.He’s your VP’s son.”
“We’re Canadian,” Omar corrected.“But I do recognize Mr.Hampton.”
