The Reveal Read Free

convinced that he’d seen her before.
    “Excuse me?” she said, rolling out her best German accent.
    Sean might be the former CIA agent, but Brynn was no slouch in subterfuge. She hadn’t expected to be recognized, not when her last trip to this Basque tourist spot had been nearly two years ago.
    Luckily, she always had a fallback plan. Like falling hard for the man she was supposed to protect. Or, more immediately, having a random guy who stank of booze exclaim that he’d seen her before.
    A switch in accent usually threw people off, but this guy’s crooked-tooth grin peaked through his overgrown facial hair with an air of stubborn familiarity.
    “Aye, you, I’ve seen before. I rarely forget a redhead, lass. It’s against my upbringing.”
    The faint Irish accent he’d used to greet her transformed into full-on brogue. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The lady tourists who swarmed this quaint, coastal town probably tipped bigger when they heard him shift into his best Colin Farrell.
    Brynn just wanted to blend in long enough to collect her food. “Oh, have you been to Berlin?”
    Despite her outstretched hand, he held tightly to the sack, concentrating all his energy into coming up with an answer.
    Thinking, for this guy, looked painful.
    “Haven’t left this beach paradise for over ten years. Came here for a vacation with my wife and never left. She took off so long ago I hardly remember her. But you, you I’ve seen before.”
    Brynn turned down the wattage of her grin and glanced around her. The lobby of the hotel was empty except for a young desk clerk who was engrossed in the screen of his smartphone.
    Brynn tucked away her ring-less left hand. “This is my first time in Spanien . Honeymoon.”
    The delivery guy’s saucy grin retreated beneath his mass of beard. His gaze darted for any sign of a husband who might not appreciate him flirting with his new bride.
    Brynn used his momentary distraction to snatch away the food.
    His eyes, muddy blue and rimmed by tired lids, shot back to her. He examined her face with entirely too much interest, spawning a prickly field of gooseflesh at the nape of her neck.
    Was he really just an overly friendly delivery guy? Or had he been sent to do reconnaissance for whomever had chased Brynn and Sean out of the safe house?
    “How much do I owe?” she asked.
    Time to end this tête-à-tête. The less time he had to place her, the better.
    He rattled off the amount. His expression changed from suspicious to pleased once she handed him a stack of euros and he calculated how much cash she’d turned over with a sultry, “ Stimmt so .”
    Clearly, he was familiar with the German phrase for “keep the change.” He counted through the euros a second time, bumping his shoulder on the doorjamb on his way out. She gave him one last grin when he looked back but then focused on the sack of food until he disappeared.
    Once he was gone, she rushed upstairs, containing her speed only to avoid grabbing the attention of the disinterested clerk or any guests who might be wandering the halls. Once on their floor, she sprinted, threw open the door, shoved herself through and locked it behind her. Without hesitation, she burst into the tiny bathroom where Sean was wrapping a towel around his waist.
    She spoke through a suddenly dry mouth. “We’ve got to go.”
    She dumped the food on the table by the door and tore open the drawer she’d used to tuck away their dirty traveling clothes. She could have cared less about the jeans and T-shirts, but they’d need the jackets. Sunny Spain wasn’t so warm in winter, and France would be even colder.
    “What happened?” he asked calmly.
    She stuffed their clothes into a laundry bag. They’d dump them at the first opportunity. They needed to leave no trace.
    “Get dressed.” She pulled a clean shirt and jeans from the go-bag beside the door and tossed them to him.
    He dropped his towel and obeyed, but not without scowling. “Tell me