Page 97 of One Secret

Neither of us stirred until nearly noon so, by the time we were ready to head into town, Darcy had suggested that we divide and conquer.

Darcy suggested...

Her argument had been sound: she needed something to wear for Felix's festivities tomorrow evening. I wanted to assess the harbor and potential routes off the island by sea. There would be fewer spies outside the hotel and, provided we left and arrived together, we'd raise little suspicion.

I'd thought it sounded reasonable. At the time.

Until I discovered Darcy loitering around the dockside with Lana Caruso.

"...your secret's safe with me. Signor Alesi won't hear a thing..."

Two half sentences. That's all I picked up on my approach. But it was enough to catalyze an avalanche of reaction: confusion, suspicion, hurt, anger... and a burning resolution to know the truth once and for all.

Two days ago, Darcy's quirks were appealing. Every time she revealed her intelligence, it was a turn-on. Each time she handled a piece of kit or talked to me on a level I could relate to, it warmed me through to my toes. Made me believe we had a connection that was more than great sex.

Now, those tidbits of memory, those fractured little pieces that didn't quite fit—no matter how appealing I once found them—have turned ugly in my head. And I'm kicking myself for letting sentimentality stay my hand from checking deeper into her background.

A woman with whom I've shared nothing personal suddenly wants to accompany me to a private island in the middle of the Aegean Sea? The same woman whom the Caruso's headhunter practically forced me to bring along? A woman who knows her way around surveillance equipment and thinks like a tactician?

A woman who shares confidences with Lana Caruso herself and then refuses to let me in on it?

I can't deny it any longer.

That kind of woman... is a spy.

Hurt and betrayal are quickly drowned in a sea of self-flagellation. Disgust and humiliation are fast on its heels.

See? whispers that voice in the back of my head. Real relationships are impossible for you. Impossible for this line of work. Even women you think are yours. Who you think might come to care for you... They're all a part of the game.

A game that I damn well know how to play, I remind myself.

If Darcy is truly in on this; if she's working for the Carusos to undermine me, to entrap me somehow, I'll simply outmaneuver her.

The idea of framing Darcy as my enemy gives me literal nausea but I swallow it back.

Just because you care for someone—hell even sharing blood with them—does not mean they're on your side. You learned that lesson a long time ago, Alesi. Don't pussy-foot around it now.

Nisí tou Chrysoú is a small island so the hike up to the hotel takes us only half an hour. Just enough time for me to crush sentimentality, affection, and everything else that had been growing for Darcy behind a door in my mind. A double-bolted, steel-rivetted enforced door.

As we skirt the estate's surrounding wall and approach the wrought iron gates we arrived through two days ago, I jog the last few feet to come up beside Darcy. The sun has almost completely sunk beneath the horizon now, causing our shadows to stretch and loom across the hotel's forecourt. The nocturnal flowers in the driveway are pungent in my nose and my head starts to pound.

Annoyed, I take Darcy's arm with force and she gasps painfully. I can't help loosening my grip but I do at least manage to smash down my niggling reaction of shame.

'Seriously, Cyrus, this whole grabbing me thing—'

'Shut up,' I snap at her without warmth.

Darcy looks up at me. I watch her eyes grow wide in my peripheral.

'What?' she breathes, shocked by my sudden hostility. She nearly trips over the front step as I drag her into the hotel foyer.

Darcy, meet the real Cyrus Alesi. We apologize for the delay but he's been away the last few days, distracted by lust and sentimental crap.

'Ow, Cyrus you're hurting me—'

'Then stop struggling,' I bite.

'Where are we going?'

---