Page 94 of One Secret

It cautions me that I'm becoming too attached; that I'm enjoying too much the idea of Cyrus becoming equally as attached.

Three days ago, I was firmly set on my path. Nothing could have swayed me from my choice to bow out of Cyrus's life forever and raise my child somewhere outside his knowledge.

But now, every time I try to remind myself that Cyrus doesn't want anything permanent and that trying to hold on as he disappears will only leave me falling painfully on my face, a new rebellious little voice speaks up.

It whispers to me that Cyrus believes he isn't good enough for a long-term connection. Not necessarily that he doesn't want one.

It tempts me that Cyrus feared unprotected sex because it would screw with my hopes for the future. Not necessarily because he loathes the idea of children.

You're grasping, soldier... Searching for loopholes that just aren't there.

Lana reads my thoughtful silence as an awkward lack of interest in the subject and so diplomatically changes it.

'Speaking of signor Alesi...' she segues. 'Where is he today?'

Inspecting the docks for exit routes and vessels that can be easily stolen to escape the island... should you and your family all try to kill us, that is.

I keep my friendly smile in place.

'The idea of dress shopping turned Cyrus a little green,' I joke with an ultra-womanly rolling of my eyes. 'So, I sent him down to the docks to find some guided tours of the reef.'

Lana juggles her multiple shopping bags into one hand and gestures down the street with the other. We begin to walk as we talk.

'You're enjoying the island, then?' she asks conversationally.

'Absolutely.' When I'm not tense as hell that someone is about to cock a gun in my direction... 'Thank you for your recommendation yesterday. We enjoyed the jetskis so much that I thought we might try scuba?'

'Ooh,' Lana enthuses, her bags clattering together as she claps her hands. Again, she somehow bridges childlike joy with vivid passion. 'I adore scuba. Especially at night when the lights from the island light up the coral. Truly spectacular.'

What follows is an avid, and actually genuinely enjoyable, discussion of marine activities and which are the best options to explore in the summer season. For a while, I almost forget why Cyrus and I are truly on the island and find it easy to slip into the role of leisurely vacationer.

Given her knowledge base and how naturally she fits with her environment here on the island, I'm surprised to discover that Lana only took up her position at Caruso Chrysoú six months ago.

'And you're enjoying life here?' I ask without pretense. 'You don't find it isolating to be on an island so small?'

I wonder about where I'll be living in a few months. Perhaps a small island off the Italian coast would be a good place to hide out and raise my baby…?

'Small, but lively.' Lana corrects. We've reached the main dock-side street that runs along the water's edge on the western side of the island. Up ahead is a long pier with several small fishing boats moored along its spine. Shorter docking posts and wooden mooring boxes float in the marina, also in full use. Come dawn tomorrow, the harbor will be empty, every vessel out to snag the daily catch. Now, they all sit quietly in place, tucked in for the day. At this hour, the larger, newer boats with hard and sharp bows of white plastic are the busier ones: jettisoning tourists to and from neighboring islands, delivering supplies to the locals, or hosting scuba and sailing trips around the nearby reefs.

Here, the road is busier, with tanned natives and sun-burned tourists hurrying to get out of each other's way. Lana waves an encompassing hand at the bustling activity, framed by the beginnings of a setting sun.

'Places like this, the activities on the water, the festivals, and the night markets... it never feels too quiet or out of the way here. And it's been my dream for some time to work closer with my cousin.'

For a moment, I think I see a primordial gleam in Lana's eyes but a rare cloud briefly blocks the sunlight overhead and it vanishes.

'He's... an interesting man,' I hedge carefully.

Even without the underworld secrets Cyrus has told me, Felix Caruso has made a less than favorable impression. My dislike of the man, only half-masked behind polite conversation, seems neither offensive nor a surprise to Lana. She chuckles softly at my carefully chosen words and picks a spot along the dockland wall on which to perch. I lean my butt against the stone beside her.

'I'm not surprised you find him... difficult,' she says, equally reticent. 'Especially given the way he came across to you last night.'

'And yet you still work for him?'

It seems bananas to me that a woman as confident, independent, and clearly intelligent as Lana Caruso would put up with the arrogant prig. Even if he is her cousin.

Lana shrugs and works her head like she's weighed up the pros and cons.

'In my experience... such attitudes—particularly in men—and the reputations they create along the way tend to come more from being successful over anything else.' She raises a wise eyebrow at me. 'Arrogance can help beget success. Success bolsters the ego. I don't know a single person with enough natural humility to fight that kind of upward spiral.'

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