Page 39 of One Secret

I'm pathetic.

She wants to end things. She wants to leave. Probably with another man.

And I'm too hooked on the high I find between her legs that I'm willing to hold on to whatever scraps she'll throw my way for a few more days.

'If it makes this trip easier,' I say, using the lamest excuse I can come up with. 'Nothing needs to change between us until we're back in Rome.'

Those damn citrine eyes of hers are drilling into me. I'm keeping my eyes fixed on the seat in front of me and I can still feel them against my profile. They knock my ass into my gut and my gut into my throat. So perceptive that they burn.

'Okay,' Darcy finally agrees. I find I can exhale again. 'But even if we're staying... what we are... for now, we're still going to need to amp up the romance whilst we're on the island. That Fiori guy thinks we're an actual couple.'

'That's fine,' I promise her. 'I'm good at adapting.'

Or, at least, I always thought I was. Right now, I have the horrendous suspicion that letting go of Darcy might just turn out to be a change I'm not so willing to adapt to.

The only good news in all of this is that I have seventy-two hours to strap on a pair and deal...

...or to convince Darcy to change her mind.

* * *

The flight isn't long. Just a few hours between lifting off of Italian soil and descending over the turquoise waters of Greece.

A hired car takes us from the airport on Mykonos to a local port on the coast. A short ferry ride gets us to the isle of Nisí tou Chrysoú and a ten-minute taxi shuttles us uphill from the docking pier right to the doors of Felix Caruso's lavish resort.

All in all, we reach our destination by mid-afternoon.

'Holy...'

I glance over at Darcy who is pressing her nose against the window of the cab, her eyes wide with awe.

Felix's resort is the only building on the tallest hillside of the island, making it impossible to ignore upon approach. The ground floor is vast and boasts traditional Grecian designs. Geometric mosaics sparkle in a thousand colors and pillars of alabaster give the place a beautiful sense of authority. The second floor is smaller and just as elegant with the open space left behind reserved for a rooftop terrace and, by the looks of the raised lifeguard perch, a pool.

'The Carusos don't do anything by half,' I mumble, as we drive past ivy-strewn walls towards the main gates.

'You're telling me...' Darcy murmurs back, half to herself.

We pass a set of large, wrought iron gates—the kind with fancy curlicues topping their bars—held open by staff in fine black livery. As soon as the car crosses into the front grounds of the estate, those same gates shut on an automated mechanism. The two uniformed men follow with a gentle, if obsolete, hand on the bars.

Which makes them only there for show... or for security.

Through the rear window, I eye their dark jackets more carefully and spot a few unnatural shapes nestled under their arms.

The taxi turns smoothly to the left and heads around a central fountain merrily spewing crystalline waters in the sunshine. On the outer edges of the paved circle is a tropical menagerie of plants with huge, thronging, green leaves and bulbous flowers of orange and fuchsia. Even inside the car, we can hear exotic birdsong twittering away overhead.

A finely dressed woman is waiting for us on the front steps. A young man in uniform hovers beside her.

'Ready?' I ask Darcy, as we come to a stop.

Darcy grins, her tongue pinned between her teeth.

'As I'll ever be, sweetheart.'

'Ugh, no,' I joke before opening the door.

'Honey, then?' Darcy counters, following me out into the balmy Grecian heat. 'Sugar-plum?'

I roll my eyes at her.

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