Page 65 of One Secret

I groan.

'Metallica too?' I wince.

Darcy zips up her makeup bag with a decisive flick of her wrist and tilts her head at me. A silver cuff on her exposed ear catches the light.

'Are you deliberately trying to pick a fight?' she asks, turning to accuse me instead of my reflection. 'Or do you actually have this poor a taste in music?'

'I don't like music. Now, come on, or they're going to send someone to fetch us.' And given the number of illegal hacks my computer is currently running from our little hotel room, that would be bad. Barring a Caruso minion at the door would look more than a little suspicious.

'Wait,' Darcy laughs, marching after me into the bedroom. 'Wait, you don't like any music?'

'Not particularly.'

I check my weapons and their magazines before stashing them under my dinner jacket. Used to jeans, I shift my weight a little to ensure the pistol stays firmly in the waistband of my slacks.

'What do you listen to when you're cleaning the house?' she asks, a hand on her hip. She watches me lock a firearm into its holster under my left arm and her eyes flash with interest. 'Can I have one of those?'

'I have a cleaner. And no.'

'I know how to use a gun, you know.'

I give her a deliberate assessment, sliding my gaze along her bare neck, down through her cleavage, around the slender lines of her hips and all the way south to those sexy little boots.

'Where,' I ask pointedly, 'would you keep it?'

She wriggles her eyebrows at me.

'I'm surprisingly flexible. I could get creative.'

My lungs suddenly feel barren of air. Yet another thing I'll be attempting to smother in the back of my mind tonight.

'No gun,' I insist, as Darcy glances at the bedside clock and begins shooing me from the room.

As we leave and I double-check the auto-lock, I look Darcy in the eye and try, for the dozenth time, to encourage her back behind closed doors.

'You sure you want to come to this thing? You'd be safer in the room.'

'Cyrus,' she says, bringing her tone lowered to a whisper now that we're in a public place. 'What exactly do you think will happen? A shoot-out across the table? Come on...'

'They're probably going to have questions,' I point out.

'And I'll answer them with a winning smile, I promise.' She holds a hand up with girl scout piety. 'And, if I get really stuck, I can always lean too far forward for the salt or something.'

Knowing the exact, stunning image of her breasts would form with that move, I agree that it's a solid plan for distraction... but it also has my stomach clenching like I've just swallowed toxic sludge.

I wrap a boyfriend-like arm around Darcy's shoulders and turn her towards the elevators.

'Besides,' she points out, leaning naturally into my side and fitting her pace to mine. 'This may be my best chance of witnessing a confession reprehensible enough to count as leverage.'

Ah, yes. The reason for her presence here in the first place.

Somehow, I'd sort of forgotten that Darcy had her own motivations for being on the island; that she isn't actually my partner. In romance or in crime.

The reminder of which makes my muscles lax and my dick sad.

The elevator doors ping and we ride to the ground floor before stepping out and looking for direction.

'What was the name of the—?'

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