Page 36 of One Secret

'Sweden,' she finally admits.

I'm surprised.

'Sweden?'

'It's up north,' she remarks flippantly. 'The big bit between Norway and Finland.'

'I know where Sweden is,' I growl. 'You just... don't have an accent. Your Italian sounds native.'

'So does yours,' she points out. 'But I know you're not Italian-born.'

Touché.

'Germany.'

Her lower lip juts out as she considers this new piece of information.

'Pleasure to meet you, Germany.'

'You too, Sweden.'

'Shall we do last names too?' she suggests. 'Because I know yours isn't Russo.'

Again, I can't think of a good reason why my "girlfriend" wouldn't know my last name. At least not the one I use reasonably openly.

'Alesi.'

'Now that is Italian.'

'I'm half and half,' I admit. My paternal grandmother's maiden name, I'd taken Alesi when I'd gone freelance. 'I'm from all over.'

'Me too.'

We both fall quiet.

The soft whirr of the plane engine sweeps in to fill the silence. Its hum pours through the cabin, the seats, and into my back.

Darcy closes her eyes and seems to sink deeper into the clutch of the leather. Surrendering to the floating pleasures of flight.

'You feel like we're doing this backwards?' I ask, trying to distract myself from the sudden ache in my gut and a heavy case of dry tongue.

Darcy's lids remain lowered but the corner of her mouth turns upwards.

'You mean knowing what you taste like before I know your last name?' she suggests.

Okay, that's so not going to help keep my focus on the here and now.

In my mind, I've already taken Darcy past the privacy door, ripped away every stitch of clothing save for my damn jacket and—

'Something like that,' I choke out.

Darcy sighs to herself, still keeping her eyes closed and completely oblivious to the dark temptations playing out inside my head.

'I like to think that life doesn't come with a rule book,' she muses. 'If it did, we'd probably all be failing somewhere somehow. And who wants to live like that? I think we just make the best choices we can with what we have at the time. If we pivot and adapt, we survive. If not...'

The corners of her lips have grown tight and she gives a brittle shrug.

If not... we die, I finish for her. I stare at her face, scrutinizing her features for the thoughts that lie beneath.

---