control.”
Hmm. That would be interesting. She enjoyed running and was one of the fastest Medusas. “You’re on.”
She was done with dessert and sipping a cup of coffee so good it nearly brought her to tears when she finally remembered to ask, “By the way, what was the piece of intelligence you said you’d gotten?”
He sighed. “And, the pleasant interlude ends. Back to business, eh?”
She smiled a little at the disappointment in his voice. “Sorry.”
“When you apologize like you mean it, I’ll know I’ve broken through that workaholic exterior of yours.”
“Good luck with that.” She set down her coffee cup. “The intel?”
“Right. A source in Tehran reports that Mahmoud has spent the past six months or so training with a team of approximately eight operatives on a military base. They were seen going in and out of mocked-up buildings repeatedly.”
“Sounds like they were training for a specific attack,” she commented.
“That’s how I would interpret it, as well.”
“Any information on what the buildings looked like?”
“No. Our source isn’t that highly placed.”
“Still. Are you going to take me seriously now when I say I saw Mahmoud and Yousef and that I’m convinced they dumped the chlorine in the pool?”
“I always took you seriously, Rebel.”
“Yeah, but no one else is likely to.”
“Do you want me to put forward your theory to the IOC security team because they would take me more seriously?”
She sighed. “I appreciate the offer, but I expect Major Torsten will tell them about it if he thinks I’ve adequately backed up my theory with evidence.”
“He’s a good man. He won’t take credit for your work. You’ll get the credit.”
“Or the blame,” she added.
Avi shrugged. “If you think you’re right, stick by your guns. Who cares if you got this one wrong? We all make mistakes from time to time. Better to be overcautious and be wrong than say nothing and have a preventable attack happen.”
“Yes, but this is the first time the new Medusas have worked the Olympic Games. If I’m making a wrong call and people get all worked up for no reason, the egg will be on all of my teammates’ faces along with mine.”
“You’re a team, right? Wouldn’t you suffer a little humiliation on behalf of one of your sisters?”
“Well, yes.”
“And they would do the same for you. Don’t second-guess yourself. Trust your gut.”
He was right. She took a deep breath. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime.”
The waiter brought back Avi’s credit card, and he signed the check quickly.
“Do I want to know what that meal cost?” she asked.
“No. But it was worth every shekel to watch you enjoy yourself like that.”
Alarmed, she let him hold her chair as she stood up. Had she made a spectacle of herself? The idea sent shivers of horror across her skin. If she’d learned nothing else in her father’s repressive home, it was that women should never, ever, draw attention to themselves.
“What were you thinking about just then?” Avi asked, startling her out of dark memories.
“Nothing.”
Avi responded evenly, “I’m not letting you get away with putting me off like that. Tell me what you were thinking about.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because it put pain in your eyes. I want to know what or who hurt you.”
He sounded half-prepared to go out and beat up bullies on her behalf. Which was sweet. And strange. She wasn’t accustomed to any man looking out for her. In fact, she’d spent most of her adult life making sure no man needed to look out for her.
She glanced up. He was staring down at her expectantly. He looked ready to stand there all night, not moving an inch, until he got his answer.
Well, hell. She huffed and then admitted, “I was thinking about my father.”
“Your father? Why would he put such pain in your eyes?”
“Because he wasn’t—isn’t—a very nice man. He believes that women should be seen and not heard. And that women should stay out of men’s way.”
Sarcasm lacing his voice, he responded, “He must love your job choice.”
“We don’t speak.”
“Ahh.” A pause. Then Avi said quietly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried, and I’m sorry your father is a jerk. But thank you for letting me know what I have to overcome.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, now I know that not only will you be sensitive to feeling smothered, but you’ll also have issues with domineering men.”
“I don’t—” She broke off. “Okay, fine. I do.”
He gifted her with a smile so beautiful she could hardly look at it or at him. Lord, he was a handsome man.
He said, “Thank you for your honesty. I value it more than just about any trait in my friends.”
Only friends? And there went her stomach again, dropping into her shoes in disappointment. Since when did she want to be more than friends with this man?
Since he’d taught her how to waltz and introduced her to fine cuisine—and not only saw her as a soldier, but also saw her as a woman.
Which also made her feel naked. Vulnerable. Most people ignored her, and she tended to prefer it that way. Too bad he hadn’t seen her as more. It would have been nice if this man had looked at her and seen a woman of interest, maybe even a potential romantic interest.
But no. He’d seen a friend.
It was better than nothing. But not by much.
If only she was more capable at the whole romance and seduction thing. But that was like wishing she could hold the moon in her hand. It was never going to happen.
* * *
Their walk back to the Olympic Village was quiet, and Avi was content to let Rebel stew in her thoughts. He was prepared to move slowly with her, take his time and let her work out whatever she needed to work out in her head before he pushed her to the next level.
