Page 11 of One Secret

As Fiori said, it's hardly surprising that the Carusos would keep an independent killer on retainer. The question is… is it Gabriel?

Whilst jetting off to a luxury resort and rubbing elbows with the rich and infamous is hardly my natural habitat, I'm willing to adapt. Not only does the invitation get me closer to Felix, in an environment where he feels in control—relaxed enough, perhaps, to drop his guard—but, if this event is as grand scale as Fiori is bragging, Gabriel might even be in attendance himself.

I pause and grind my teeth long enough to seem begrudging before surrendering:

'Fine.' I sip from my glass. 'I'll fly out and—'

I'm distracted.

It doesn't happen often. In my line of work, you need razor-sharp focus or either the target gets away or you become the target. But, for a second, there's a distraction. And it catches my eye and stills my tongue.

Darcy has just returned to the bar.

I'd noted her disappearance through the door marked "Staff Only" a few minutes ago without reaction. Her return should have been equally uneventful. But, as she takes her place back behind the beer taps and smooths out the half-apron around her waist, I'm caught off-guard by the behavior of her colleague.

He's watching her with an intensity beyond simple peerdom. His brow is furrowed low, his eyes soft under the dimmed lighting of the bar. Their backdrop is the rows of liquor over the back wall and, beyond it, mirrored tiling. In the reflection, I can see the guy reaching to rest a hand on Darcy's shoulder.

His posture radiates concern.

My pulse has sped up and the soles of my feet itch. I keep myself rooted in my seat, one ankle slung over the opposing knee. The posture is casual but I'm suddenly tight as corded wire.

Before I can fully mask my reaction, Alexander has turned to peer over his shoulder.

'Ah,' he says. 'The bartender, again. She is rather pretty... in a spunky sort of way.'

I try not to snort.

What is it about men like Fiori? If a woman doesn't have a ton of bottle-blonde hair and hasn't been nipped and tucked into the shape of Pamela Anderson, they can't see jack-shit worthy of notice.

Darcy just has to be within a mile radius to start heating me from the inside out and yet Alexander Fiori, self-appointed connoisseur of all things attractive, barely notices her.

Fucking idiot.

After mimicking the universal sign for the check at Darcy, Fiori turns back to face me, his eyebrow rising in an expression that harbors several suggestions. None of them clean.

Okay, maybe the pig has noticed her a little.

I feel my upper lip twitch.

Thank God this meeting is almost over.

'As I said…' My words are a little strained, choked dry behind gritted teeth. 'I'll fly out to meet Mr. Caruso as requested. Just send me a suitable date for arrival.'

Fiori has access to the same inbox my other clients work with. One that has no traceable connection to me but is unhackable to the outside world. His message about dates would sit nice and snugly beside whatever grumbling voicemail Jaime had left.

'I'll do one better and arrange your flight personally,' Fiori vows before settling his suit in a manner designed to communicate impending departure.

'No,' I say, the word stalling his hands over the double-breasted. 'I'll take my own transport. I just need a date and location.'

Fiori's jaw tightens and clicks to one side. I can see it groove out a hollow under his left cheekbone.

'As you prefer,' he resigns, just as Darcy appears with a small leather booklet, the check enclosed inside.

Fiori hands her a black credit card and then leers over her; up, down, and sideways.

For my part, I can practically feel his eyes on her. The sensation of him trying to read the individual strands and texture in the pitch black of her hair… That gaze trailing along her bare neck and slithering over the little rounds of her breasts. His stare lingers on her high and tight backside before sweeping down the impressive length of her slender legs.

I push aside the uncharacteristic urge to stab the man in the face and try to adopt Darcy's attitude instead.

---