He pulled out a chair facing into the lounge. “Sit next to me.”
She eased down. He sat beside her. Beneath the table, he held her hand in his lap.
The server made his way over.
“Santini Chianti,” Halston said.
“Santini Whisky, straight,” Gabriel told the waiter.
After he left, Gabriel peered over, her Barbi wig, brown contacts, and baggie clothing a fitting disguise meant to blend in and go unnoticed.
“I missed you,” she said. “Were you happy to be home?”
“I love my city,” he said, “but not the reason I was there.”
“Was it bad?”
“It was necessary.” He stroked her hand under the table. “I care about you and don’t like that you’re alone at the embassy, especially with those two.”
She kissed his cheek. “I lived in Moscow for nine months. My brother came over twice to check on me. My only interaction with anyone I thought I could trust was my handler, and that was never in person.”
The server returned with their drinks, asked about food. When they declined, he left.
She lifted her glass. “No more shop talk. Here’s to us.” Then, the furrowed her brows. “Is there an ‘us’?”
He found her vulnerability charming.
He savored that first sip of whisky, then a second, before setting down his glass.
“Yes,” he said, “there is an us.”
Fire burned in her eyes. “That was the right answer.”
A smile tugged on his lips. “I’m yours. You’re mine. It’s simple.”
“Nothing with you is simple.”
The longer he stared into her eyes, the more convinced he was that she was the one. He ran the back of his finger down her cheek. “I don’t want us to separate when your job here ends.”
She kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger an extra beat. “I can only think about today. Tomorrow is too far away and filled with its own challenges.” One more kiss before she murmured, “Let’s dance.”
They made their way around the tables filled with guests and onto the dance floor. A slow song had him pulling her close, holding her flush against him.
“This is where you belong,” he murmured as he peered down at her. “With me.”
That elicited a little smile.
“My Barbi.”
She clung to him as they moved slowly to the ballad. A brief interlude of calm in a raging sea of uncertainly and enemies.
“I know that man,” she whispered. “Grigori’s on my translator team at the embassy.”
Gabriel followed her gaze. A man had jumped onto one of the bright, orange sofas, combing the crowd.
When he spotted Halston, he screamed, “I know you’re a spy, Minka! The Americans have turned you against us.” He whipped out a gun, pointed it toward her. “Time to die, Minka!”
Gabriel spun her away from the gunman, shielding her with his body as shots rang out.