Despite her outer nonchalance, she held her breath and waited. Would he help her despite her past involvement with the Federation League?
Traitor. Murderer. Ignoramus. Those were the names her teammates had called her, back in the early days of DEFEND. And to think she’d called those people her friends. She’d learned to craft a reputation after that, one that would keep the idiots away from her.
She’d put Marco into the idiot category back in the States, but for once, she hoped that she’d been wrong. She was a big enough person to admit that she needed his help more than ever since Richard was back in the picture.
Marco finally grinned, and she let out her breath. Unless he had some sort of hidden cruel nature, he was going to help her.
He wiggled his eyebrows and said, “I’ve waited a long time to hear those words, Camilla.”
So much for the real Marco. Time to shut his bullshit down. Again. “You’ve known me for less than a week.”
“Maybe, but considering I’ve heard of you for years, it makes it that much sweeter.”
She resisted an eye roll and poked a claw into his chest. “Marco,” she growled in warning. “I thought we’d agreed that you’d drop the act.”
“Believe me, Camilla, this isn’t an act.” He grabbed the hand near his chest and tugged. “Now, tell me what you know and I’ll see if I can save your ass again”
Cam growled, but then she told him what she knew about the clue from Chichen Itza. Maybe if she ignored his deliberate attempts to rile her up, he’d once again become the fierce, passionate man she’d glimpsed earlier.
Although, she tried not to think too hard on why she wanted to see that version of Marco again.
Chapter Sixteen
Cam flipped her long hair over her shoulder for the tenth time. Annoyance wasn’t the only reason she wished to put it back into a braid. “Stop staring at me.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Marco shrug. “You have pretty hair. Get used to it.”
She gave up trying to ignore him and looked him dead in the eye. “If we weren’t out in broad daylight, I’d take out my knife and chop it all off if it would help you focus.”
“And if my grandmother had wheels, she’d be a bicycle.” He grabbed her hand and picked up his pace. “Instead, let’s try focusing on the present. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, so act like it.”
“I am,” Cam muttered, but decided that telling him any girlfriend of his would have to bitch slap him on a regular basis would be counterproductive.
Since Richard had seen them earlier, they’d both changed their clothes and tried to alter their appearances. Marco had slicked his hair back like the American men of the 1950s, and Cam had let her hair down. She’d had it cropped short during her days in the Fed League, and until she could dye it or get a wig, this was the best she could do to disguise herself.
Earlier, she’d sent Zalika and Jacek back to the bed and breakfast since Zalika’s ankle had been acting up. While Cam needed her to heal as fast as possible, she was used to looking out for the pair and wished they were here to help.
She just hoped that Marco wouldn’t let her down.
Santa Lucia Park came into view and she saw that the empty tables had filled up. The table near the edge of the plaza was stacked with binders.
She hoped they were filled with coins.
They reached the table and Marco squeezed her hand as a reminder—he was to do the talking. She gritted her teeth and pasted a smile on her face. Doing nothing wasn’t her style, but she had neither charm nor the ability to speak Spanish, meaning that she was next to useless right now.
She watched as Marco teased and grinned with the people at the table. Even if she didn’t understand ninety-nine percent of what they were saying, she could tell he was charming them. The funny thing was that the smiles and humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but Cam had been face to face with the man when he’d been fierce and angry, and right now, his eyes lacked the same depth of emotion.
Marco pinched her hip and winked at her. He’d seen her staring, which meant she’d never hear the end of it later.
But thanks to the years working for the Fed League and DEFEND, Cam kept her cool. Considering he’d stared at her boobs not that long ago, she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
The man sitting at the table made a motion for them to wait a moment and he went riffling inside one of the boxes behind him. She raised an eyebrow in question, and Marco gave a one-shouldered shrug as if to say, “I’m not sure what he’s doing.”
When Cam turned her head to watch the man behind the table, Marco’s hand curled over her hip and tugged her against his side.
Her first reaction was to pull away, but then she stopped. Remember, you’re supposed to be his girlfriend. She repeated the words inside her head. She’d had assignments in the past when she’d had to act a certain part to get information, but rarely with men, and certainly never with men that smelled as good as Marco.
Stop it, Melini. You’ve decided to eschew men, remember? It was easy to tell herself that, until she remembered the kiss they’d shared inside the club. She knew it had only been part of Marco’s cover ID, but sitting on his muscled thighs while his tongue stroked hers…