Page 98 of One Secret

'To our roo—'

'Alesi...!'

I swallow back a curse and turn to discover none other than Hector Ramirez sauntering across the lobby.

Boy, do you have crappy timing.

'Not now,' I curtly dismiss him.

'I'm afraid, yes now. I'm here to pick you up...' Ramirez grins, apparently more than pleased to catch us in an inopportune moment. His eyes land on Darcy. 'Are you all right, miss?'

Mary, mother of—

Would one man in this hotel give me a fucking break with this? The flirting and avid interest in Darcy is torture enough. Now, I'm stuck wondering how much of their attention is for a beautiful woman and how much for a comrade in need...

'She's fine,' I spit at the mercenary, fearing I might crack a molar if I grit my teeth any harder.

I try to steer Darcy towards the elevators, annoyed all over again that this goddamn hotel doesn't have a goddamn flight of stairs!

Lazy, rich-ass imbeciles—

'Hey Alesi, I wasn't kidding about picking you up,' Ramirez calls out as he dogs our steps to the lifts. 'The big man wants to see you.'

The reminder of my actual target has me sighing heavily and clamping a hand around the elevator's closing door.

'Now?' I growl.

Ramirez shrugs innocently.

'Says he wants to take you on a night sail. That he's decided on that good-will condition of his. Whatever that means...'

I glance at Darcy. She's stopped struggling to free her arm and has taken to glaring at me from the corner of her eye. Mention of the night cruise, however, has her glancing between Ramirez and me, her expression hard to read.

'I need a minute,' I tell the mercenary.

Ramirez looks between us, obviously entertained by the swirling tempest of tension.

'I can give you five. But you better hurry. Caruso doesn't like to be kept waiting.'

Fuck Caruso. Questioning Felix's hidden agenda and securing access to Gabriel is important. But, if everything I learn is just going to be funneled back to the Caruso family or, worse still, to an unknown third party, then mitigating the threat Darcy's presenting is the higher priority.

'I'll be quick,' I grunt, letting go of the automated doors.

Through the narrowing crack, I seethe when Ramirez's stare falls on Darcy again.

'And you sure you're all right, signorin—?'

Clunk. The doors shut firmly on Ramirez's sweet nothings.

Darcy seems a little affected by the knight in shining armor routine and just rides the elevator with me in a cloud of tense silence.

As we disembark, I go to take her arm again and she jolts out of reach. I watch her, assess the number of exits on this floor, and then allow her to walk on ahead of me.

She doesn't try to escape. She doesn't try to break out over the upstairs balcony or rush down to the pool. Nor does she make a dash for the staff exits or private staircases (in which a spy would be well-versed). She just heads straight for our room, her head high and her stride defiant.

Her complete lack of fear is as attractive as it is unusual.

You've been caught, sweetheart. The SOP for surveillance work is to leave the second your cover is blown.

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