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She smirked and nodded.
“Baissier?”
The smirk remained; however, she didn’t nod.
While Oleander invitedus to remain on the yacht overnight, I was anxious to return to shore with the hope we could catch a flight back to London in the morning.
Instead, we booked a villa at one of Sharm el-Sheikh’s waterfront resorts.
“I cannot wait to hear about your conversation with Oleander,” said Wilder once we’d settled in our accommodations and were gathered in the villa’s dining room, waiting for our dinner to arrive.
“She is fascinating, yes?” I said, taking a sip of the wine Wilder had ordered.
“I’ll admit she always scared me a little.”
I laughed. “And here I thought no one scared Wilder Whittaker.”
“You say that, but you’ve not only met my wife; you’re her best friend.”
“Come on, Wren doesn’t scare you.”
“Not anymore.”
I looked over at Cayman’s amused expression. “What?” I asked.
“You, Wren, and Oleander scare me equally.”
I nearly spit the sip of wine I’d just taken. “I do not!”
“Perhaps ‘intimidate’ would be a better word,” said Puck.
Cayman nodded. “It’s fitting.”
I couldn’t decide whether I should be flattered, offended, or incredulous.
“I amnotintimidating.”
Even Wilder raised a brow. “Let’s rehash, shall we? Oleander used to work for me, and yet, the minute we stepped aboard the yacht, you were the only person she had any intention of chatting with. Not that you’ve shared a bit of what was said with any of us.”
“I intend to tell you all of it. I’ve also prepared a brief.”
“Speaking of briefs, when did you last check your email?” Cayman asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes ago.”
“There’s one from Ares.”
“Regarding?”
“The Todorova raid.”
“Already? I haven’t received a response from Ambassador Marchand as of yet.”
“No matter. It appears they have several tactical options ready for your review.”
“Now, there is someone who should intimidate you,” I said, standing to retrieve my laptop.
“Ares?” asked Cayman.
