The Danger with Diamonds by Traci Hunter Abramson

Author:Traci Hunter Abramson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: danger;diamonds;falcon point;suspense;series;secrets;vienna;romance;friendship;CIA;spy;agent;austria;jewel heist;mystery;treasure;robbery
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2022-09-02T18:03:25+00:00

Chapter 22

Isabelle sat on one of the stools beside her kitchen counter, a wide assortment of cosmetics covering the previously clear surface. When she had offered to let Marit move in with her for the remainder of her stay in Vienna, she hadn’t anticipated that Marit would bring with her an arsenal of beauty products. Didn’t models have makeup artists and stylists for this? At least the tickets to the ball had already arrived when they’d stopped by the hotel.

“I really don’t think all of this is necessary,” Isabelle said. She had offered the same opinion when Marit had insisted on twisting her hair into a complicated up-do. Isabelle had to admit she loved the results, but she doubted she could replicate the look if her life depended on it.

“Look up.” Marit picked up an eyeliner pencil and uncapped it to reveal the pointy tip.

Isabelle resisted the urge to defend herself, instead forcing herself to remain still. She wasn’t opposed to wearing makeup. She put on a light dusting every day before work, but spending the better part of an hour painting her face seemed like overkill. At least Marit had let Isabelle stay in her jeans and blouse to do it.

Marit traded the eyeliner for mascara. After she applied it to Isabelle’s eyelashes, she stepped back and gave a satisfied nod. “Okay. You’re all set.”

Isabelle stood and crossed to a large rectangular mirror hanging on her wall. “Wow. I didn’t know I could look like this.”

“I just enhanced your eyes a bit and gave your lips some color.”

“I think you did a bit more than that. Doing makeup is your superpower.”

“It’s not the same as racing around city streets so well that even the police can’t catch you, but I do all right.”

“You do better than all right.” Isabelle blinked, making sure the movement reflected in the mirror. Yep. The woman staring back really was her.

“Come on.” Marit tapped Isabelle’s shoulder. “Let’s get dressed. The guys should be here in a half hour.”

Marit collected her makeup and carried it into the guest bedroom.

Isabelle retreated to her room and changed into the borrowed dress.

Navy-blue silk overlaid with lace fell to her ankles, a slit up one side stopping just past her knee. Isabelle wasn’t about to wear something that would restrict her ability to walk . . . or run. She eyed the impractical bone-colored heels. Her feet would be killing her by the end of the night, but the reputation of Marit’s friend would remain intact.

Isabelle collected the cream wool coat that also sported a Monique Martin label. She held it up in front of her, approving of the classic lines and the way the color enhanced her complexion. Owning such an item would be in character for someone of her position at the bank, and as impractical as the price tag might be, Isabelle suspected she would end up purchasing the coat rather than returning it.

She stepped out of her bedroom at the same time Marit emerged from the guest room.

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