Page 40 of One Secret

The cabbie helps us with our luggage and I'm quick to take possession of my bags. Just in time to deny the approaching bellhop the pleasure of taking them from me.

Yeah, not happening, buddy... Not with this much firepower inside.

The bellhop's companion, a stunning blonde in a killer red dress, doesn't seem surprised when I keep hold of the hard case and duffel.

In fact, there's a soft smile of understanding on her face.

This, I decide, is no simple concierge.

'Mr. Alesi,' she greets us in Italian. 'So wonderful to have you with us. My name is Lana Caruso. I understand you are here to meet with my cousin, Felix?'

Huh. Not only part of the organization but one of the bloodline itself...

I trace the woman's face, noting any family resemblances. Blonde, blue-eyed, and objectively good-looking, she fits the Caruso fundamentals. Anything more specific is lost behind a mask of carefully applied make-up and polite hospitality.

I give a grunting ascent, distracted for a moment when Darcy gives the bellboy a dazzling smile. The kid—no more than twenty years old, if he is a day—blinks in surprise and almost drops her rucksack.

'Unfortunately, my cousin has been detained on business a little longer than he'd hoped,' Lana explains. She winces prettily in the quintessential expression of apology famous in the service industry. 'He asked me to greet you in his stead and ensure you're comfortable until tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?' I ask, annoyed.

We're supposed to be out of here in twenty-four hours. Forty-eight max.

Lana's long and voluminous blonde hair is pulled back into a classic chignon. As she nods, a heavy and deliberate wave kept to one side of her face brushes along her cheek.

Momentarily, I wonder if the blonde is less a family trait and more the result of a bottle. Does hair even come in that shade of brilliant gold?

'Felix will be returning to Nisí tou Chrysoú tomorrow afternoon and asks that you dine with him in the evening? He apologizes for the unplanned delay.' Lana then turns her perfectly straight and very white smile towards Darcy. 'I assure you, we have much to commend the resort. All of which you're welcome to enjoy until he arrives. Do you like to swim, Ms. Calabrese?'

Calabrese...

The Carusos have done their homework because they didn't get that name from me. It is, in fact, the first time I've heard Darcy's surname. An Italian surname. Was her father of Italian descent? Or had she chosen the name when moving from Sweden?

'I do!' Darcy replies with enthusiasm. She turns towards me with a coy sparkle in her eye. 'I even brought a new swimsuit for the occasion.'

Lana gives a feminine chuckle and her mask of professionalism cracks softly. She looks me up and down, glances back at Darcy, and then shoots some inferred telepathic comment with her eyebrows. Darcy grins back.

I roll my eyes.

Women...

'Let's get the two of you inside and settled for now, shall we?' Lana suggests with a shade more informality. She begins to lead the way up the wide, shallow steps, speaking back at us from over her shoulder. 'I can offer you a tour of the hotel after we drop off your bags, if you'd like?'

I turn to Darcy, whose head is working like a periscope to take in the hotel's foyer. Glossy marble, white pillars, and a shit-ton of gold filagree detailing. The reception desk on the left is the only dark spot in an otherwise white-gold vista, drawing the eye to its front face: a shining block of obsidian bearing the name Caruso Chrysoú in gold script. Behind the desk sit a pair of elegant ladies similarly coiffured to Lana but in dresses of charcoal grey. At their backs is a map of the Grecian isles, formed by a thousand triangular tiles in white and amber.

On instinct, I scan the people as comprehensively as I do the venue.

Separate from the receptionists, several guests are loitering. One wearing only a bikini, sarong, and a giant set of sunglasses, has settled herself in a seat by the glass doors and keeps checking a slim, platinum watch on her wrist. Two gentlemen in golf shorts and polo necks are chatting by the stairs. None appear armed. Just rich and mighty business types, enjoying a high-class getaway.

That's going to be one of the biggest obstacles to inspecting this place... I think. The Caruso Chrysoú is a place of open business. Not everyone within its walls is a mobster. But any and all of them could be a threat.

I turn my focus back on Darcy.

Despite her interest in the luxury all around her, I notice that the bruises under her eyes have become more apparent since the flight. She looks drawn and shadows have dulled the fire in her gaze. Glamour and novelty might go some ways to keeping that smile on Darcy's face... but she's tired.

Keeping my case and duffel hooked over one shoulder, I wrap my free arm around Darcy's shoulders. For an instant, she stiffens at my touch, then relaxes. I feel the lines of her body slot neatly in beside mine. The snug fit feels nice and I tighten my grip on her shoulder.

'I think for now a little rest is in order,' I explain, after Lana collects something from the reception desk and then leads us towards a set of elevators. Because God forbid the rich and famous have to climb a single flight of stairs. 'I think we can manage to explore things ourselves later, right baby?'

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