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He smiled the same wide, charming smile she remembered from years ago. She refused to let it turn her heart over again. It did not matter what she felt, only what she did. Was there time to be subtle? Even slightly?
“May I get you something to drink?” he offered.
“Yes, please,” she accepted, looking straight at him. There was no recognition in his eyes, not even a flicker. Apparently, she was infinitely forgettable to him. She could remember every gesture, every intonation, as if it had been a month ago, not years. She could remember his laughter, the long holiday they had taken together on the coast of Northumberland, exploring a hundred places. She remembered the rising sea thundering up the pale sand, and Bamburgh Castle towering above them, its battlements seeming to guard the whole coast from invasion. She could picture exactly how the sun fell on his face and the feel of his body that night as she lay listening to the roar of the surf as the tide came in.
She jerked herself back to the present. They must play this game now! Their lives and others’ depended upon this. What should she ask for? She wasn’t going to drink much of it anyway. “Whatever you think best, but not too sweet. You know the region, any white wine,” she said, staring back at him. “You’ve forgotten my name. It’s Elena.”
“Elena,” he repeated. “Good name. It’s a version of Helen, isn’t it? Legendary, quite something to live up to.”
She recalled how he loved the Greek classics. Not just the romance of them, but
the whole structure of the myths, the tragedies, and how, if you looked at them properly, they contained such wisdom. “There are quite a lot of us,” she agreed. “Mothers with dreams we can’t live up to.”
“Dreams to reach for?” he suggested. And then he added, “I…I’ll get you some wine.” He turned and took a step toward the nearest waiter.
He might take the opportunity to speak to her alone, but he might not. Was he afraid she would give him away? Make a scene? That would be hideously embarrassing, and more to the point, it would endanger both of them.
She turned to Gabrielle. “Excuse me, I think perhaps I would prefer a red.”
She took a couple of quick steps and caught up with Aiden. She gripped his arm to slow him before he could reach the waiter and they would no longer be alone in the crowd.
“Aiden.”
“Anton,” he said harshly under his breath.
“I won’t forget,” she said, her smile twisted this time. “But I have to speak to you.”
“It’s over.” He swung round and stared steadily, his eyes angry, cold. And yes, frightened.
She met his gaze with perfect clarity. “Yes, it is. Max Klausner is missing, very possibly dead, and your cover is blown. You must get out of here as quickly as you can. With grace, that is.”
“Vino, signor, signorina?” the waiter offered. He must have seen they were talking, but so was everyone.
“Thank you,” Aiden accepted, barely looking at the man. He took the two glasses from the tray and passed one to Elena.
“Thank you,” she smiled graciously, taking a sip.
As soon as the waiter moved on, Aiden turned back to her, leaning closer, so as to be certain no one else could overhear them. “Keep your voice down,” he warned. “How do you know this…and who the hell sent you?”
“MI6, of course,” she replied evenly, so quietly he had to lean over to hear her.
“You’re hardly MI6 material.” His voice was hard. “This is no time for playing stupid games, Elena, or for personal emotions. This is—”
“This is not personal, Aiden. I know you by sight, and that’s why they sent me. It’s important.”
“How did you find me? You haven’t the…” He stopped.
“Brains? Seems I have! It took me only a couple of days. You weren’t difficult to find. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, you have to leave.”
“Why should I believe you?” he asked.
All sorts of arguments came to her mind, rational in many ways. But it would mean explaining things to him that he did not need to know. And as she thought that, she realized she had not believed everything unquestioningly that Peter Howard had said. There was still a dark shadow of doubt in her mind. Was it personal? Only because Aiden had betrayed her? How petty. Hurt feelings had nothing to do with this. What if he had cared for her to begin with, and then her devotion to him had cloyed? She had been too young, too naïve, looking for passion where all he wanted was fun.
“Why should you believe me?” She repeated his question, not looking at him, but looking at Gabrielle and the light catching her gold lamé. Gabrielle had already begun making her way over toward them. She would be here in less than a minute. “Because without Max Klausner, you can’t get in touch with England. You can’t get funds. You can’t get your reports back safely.”
From the moment Gabrielle was beside them, his attitude changed utterly.
“Elena knows several of my favorite places in England,” he said, pleasure suddenly back in his voice, a lightness of tone.
