Despite the danger, the uncertainty, and the charged awkwardness between them, Marielle’s tight chest eased. This room said rest. Relax. Regroup. She took the deepest breath she’d taken all day, closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly.
After a moment, Omar cleared his throat.
She opened her eyes to see him watching her.
“Do you want to use the washroom first?”
She considered the question. “No you go. I’ll take another run at Hanna. See if she’ll tell me what she knows.”
He frowned. “Let’s wait until we can talk to her together. And we need to talk, too.”
“We do?” She played dumb.
He gave her a knowing look. “Yes, we do. About the safe house.”
“Right. No time like the present.”
Just then there was a soft knock at the door. Omar arched an eyebrow at the well-timed interruption, and yanked open the door
“So,” Hanna said, “there’s only one bathroom up here. Do you mind if I use it first? I won’t be long. I just need to rinse the salt water off before I put on Luc’s gorgeous clothes.”
“It’s all yours,” Omar told her.
Marielle’s stomach sank as he closed the door and turned back to her. So much for a reprieve.
“You were saying?”
She worked her jaw as she worked out how much to say. “I have reason to believe the safe house has been compromised.”
“Reason to believe?” he echoed. “What reason?”
“Can you just trust me? As your partner?”
He frowned. “I do trust you, Elle. But we have different areas of expertise. And I think it’s fair to say I’m the specialist in field work.”
“You are the specialist in field work,” she agreed. “And I’m the specialist in data interpretation. I received some data that I’ve interpreted to mean we shouldn’t go to the safe house.”
His frown turned into bewilderment. “What data? Did we get a covcom message I don’t know about?” He reached for the device in his bag.
She shook her head no.
“Another text from Chelsea?”
“No.”
“Are you seriously going to make me guess?”
There was no way to get him on board without telling him everything. And she really needed him on board.
She sank onto the edge of the bed and patted the duvet beside her. “Come. Sit next to me.”
He gave her a suspicious look but joined her.
She reached into her dry bag and pulled out the rose gold compact. “Do you remember how at the dinner, when I was pretending to be drunk, I made such a big deal out of my compact being ruined when I fell into the pool?”
He blinked at the apparent non sequitur before answering. “You said it was couldn’t be replaced because a dear friend gave it to you.”
“Right. That’s partially true.”