Page 28 of Wicked Ambition

While he evaluated the wig, Ayla did the same, staring into the mirror. The color didn’t wash her out as she’d feared, although it was close. One shade darker and she’d look like Morticia Addams from those old movies.

Itdiddrastically change her appearance. If she went a little darker on her makeup, it would alter it even more without looking fake because of the hair color.

Just because Oz was right, though, didn’t mean she was ready to forgive him. Not after spewing that cosplaying mistress bullshit.

“We’ll take it,” Oz said, “and everything she needs to care for it.”

Oz guidedAyla to a table at the café while Baggs went to the counter to get their lunch order. She remained pissy with him, and he was enjoying it a little too much. He could have kept the story he told the wig clerk much shorter, but the angrier Ayla became, the more details he added. There was something about seeing fire in her blue eyes that did it for him. Since she wasn’t inviting him to share her bed again anytime soon, fury was the best he was getting.

For now.

The square table was in the corner, away from the other customers, and a napkin dispenser sat in the center. He pulled out a chair for her. Ayla looked at him suspiciously before sitting. Oz hid his amusement and took the chair to her left.

With her long dark wig, new makeup, and changed clothing, she didn’t resemble her usual self. It had been a struggle to outfit her. Her business casual look was out and her sister was into comfort and athletic leisure. That eliminated a lot of options. They’d finally settled on something Ayla called Boho style. As far as Oz could tell it meant loose, flowing, light-weight fabrics in a mish-mash of color.

His plan was working so far. He’d dragged out shopping for her disguise for hours. If Ayla ever figured out he was deceiving her, letting herthinkshe was searching for her sister while Baggs did most of the work, she’d skin him alive, but he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. It should be fine. If her superpower was looking like her twin, Oz’s superpower was manipulation.

Going undercover was a long con. Sometimes maneuvering people was for the greater good. Like bringing down an arms dealer or keeping his prissy little blonde alive and unhurt. Of course,shewouldn’t see it that way.

“How much longer are you going to be angry?”

“I don’t know. Why did you feel it necessary to embarrass me today?”

Oz went still. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, only make you mad. Why were you embarrassed? It’s not like you’ll ever see the sales clerk again.”

“You made us memorable. What if the Russians go there and ask questions?”

“Pollita, we were already memorable. Trujillo doesn’t get American tourists, and even if one or two do visit, do you think any of them go wig shopping?”

“I was talking in Spanish. She wouldn’t know?—”

“You speak Spanish with an American accent. She knew you were from the States. That means, whether I said anything or not, she’ll remember you a month from now.”

Ayla’s Spanish had improved dramatically since she arrived. There wasn’t a hesitation any longer while she translated to English, telling Oz she must have been fluent at some point and only needed a refresher. Her pronunciation, however, remained accented.

She frowned for a moment. “That makes sense, but you could have made up another story.” She kept her voice low, but there was no mistaking that Ayla remained furious with him. “You smeared my reputation in front of a stranger.”

Smeared her reputation?“You haven’t been in Puerto Jardin long enough tohavea reputation. The woman doesn’t know anything about you. The important thing is that after hearing you were playing sex games with your sugar daddy, she didn’t ask anything else.”

Ayla’s blue eyes flashed. “She didn’t have to ask because you kept talking and talking and talking.”

That color raised an issue he hadn’t considered. “Maybe we should have bought some contact lenses,” he said with a frown. “Your eyes are an unusual shade of blue. It makes you stand out. You’re not wearing tinted contacts, are you?”

Confusion crossed her face, likely over his abrupt change of topic, but it didn’t last long. “This is my own eye color. I’ve never worn contacts. How hard are they to manage?”

Oz shrugged and weighed how much time they could waste looking for contact lenses. Would that involve an eye doctor? He wasn’t sure he wanted to take the chance of bribing one. Besides, she’d have to take them in and out and keep them clean or she’d risk an infection.

Maybe fake glasses? Lenses would mute her eye color. He gave that idea more consideration, but she couldn’t wear those nonprescription readers they’d find in a drugstore. Not without blurring her vision. Buying clear lenses would definitely call attention to them, toher.Spinning some story about a theater production might make them even more memorable. The few hours they’d waste weren’t worth the chance they’d be taking.

“We’re going to be moving around a lot. Contacts might be too difficult to deal with on top of everything else. Let’s wait and see.”

Baggs rounded the corner with a full tray. Oz tabled the next topic they needed to discuss as he waited for his teammate to join them. Quickly and efficiently, he distributed the sandwiches and coffees before sitting across from Ayla. That meant both of them had a wall at their back and they could keep watch for trouble.

Oz didn’t know Baggs well—Ski and Lurch had spent the most time with him—but it seemed as if the team’s new medic was getting impatient. For damn sure he was strung tight and wanted to look for Iona Desmond. Too fucking bad. There was no way he was turning him loose before Ayla was disguised, and now that she was, the café was filled with too many people. Baggs could head out after they finished lunch.

Ayla took a bite of her sandwich and a sip of coffee before she asked, “Since I’m nearly unrecognizable, when are we going to start looking for my sister?”

A note in her voice made Oz pause, but her expression remained calm.

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