She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes. “If you won’t send me to France, then I have to do what I can here.”
Colin’s jaw clenched, then he looked beyond her and gestured. She twisted in her seat in time to see a uniformed man, wearing the insignia of a British Army captain, rise from a secluded table and walk toward them. In his late twenties, Marie supposed, with light brown hair cut high and tight, regular features, and a slightly tanned face. He sat across from Colin and smiled.
“Marie, this is Captain Ian Devlin.” Colin’s formal voice grated on her ears. “You will be reporting to him until further notice.”
“What about you?”
“I am not your case officer for this mission.” Colin feigned a smile. “I’m being sent to Bristol for a while, but I’m sure our paths will cross again.” He laid his napkin on the table beside his plate as he stood. “In fact, I’ll ensure they do.”
“Colin . . .”
“Good-bye, my dear.” He leaned down and gave her an awkward peck on the cheek. She shifted in her chair, staring at his broad back as he spoke a few words to the maitre d’, then left the restaurant.
Stunned at Colin’s quick departure, she faced Captain Devlin and let out a nervous laugh. “That was a bit strange.”
“I agree.” The officer gave Marie a questioning look. “Is there something between you two?”
“No. It’s just . . . I don’t know.”
“It’s none of my business, of course. But a romantic entanglement with Sir Ellington could make our own mission even more awkward.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re supposed to be romantically entangled with me.”
He laughed at her shocked face. “Only in pretense.”
His gold-flecked hazel eyes exuded warmth, but were also tinged with pain. Marie had seen the same dark grief in Papa’s eyes during unguarded moments. Intrigued by the captain, she flashed him a brilliant smile. “You certainly know how to get a girl’s attention.”
Ian leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “I’m a liaison and aide assigned to SHAEF, General Eisenhower’s headquarters here in London. Because of my position, I have access to certain classified materials that would be of great interest to Hitler and his minions.”
The pleasant rhythm of his voice washed over her like a cleansing spring rain after Colin’s clipped coldness. The earlier tension dissipated as she gave Ian her full attention. “Is that true, or just your cover?”
“In this case, it’s both. Just like you are really an actress rehearsing for an upcoming play. We are both who we claim to be.”
Christian Fiction Friday is a weekly blog hop where authors post snippets from their current works in progress. It is hosted by Alana Terry and Hallee Bridgeman. Click here for a full list of rules and suggestions.