The only person who heard her comment was the man at her side. Truthfully, he was the only one she wanted to hear. With a table of onlookers, Tony didn’t verbally respond; however, he did reach over and squeeze her hand.

After dinner, Francis and Madeline left Tony, Claire, and Phil alone, and Tony explained his current status. He told Claire about the questioning and the FBI’s ultimatum. He explained how he’d been instructed to stay in contact with the bureau otherwise he’d be considered a fugitive—based on charges of domestic battery.

Claire shook her head vehemently. “No! That’s not what I said to Evergreen. I told him I was running, but not from you! I never said anything about pressing charges.”

“I know.” Tony didn’t sound upset. This wasn’t new territory to any of them; they all knew Claire and Tony’s history. “Roach told me what you said to Evergreen. It’s some ploy of theirs—Brent said it was to get more information.”

“Brent?” Claire asked. “Do Brent and Courtney know the truth? Do they know we’re all right?”

Tony shook his head. “No. It’s safer for them that way.”

Claire lowered her eyes and looked at her lap. She understood; however, it didn’t lessen the pain of knowing she’d lied to her closest friends—again.

Tony described how Eric helped him leave the United States, and how he traveled around Europe. When he talked about specific stops along his journey, they were shocked to learn how close their paths had been. Tony also asked questions. How did Claire find the island? Where exactly were they? Had Claire been in contact with anyone since arriving?

Claire deferred some of his questions to Phil, while she responded to others. “I haven’t been in contact with anyone. I do have a non-traceable phone Phil left here, and I have Har...a number for an FBI contact.”

Tony sat straighter and looked at Phil. Speaking to no one in particular, Phil asked, “Is that my cue to leave this discussion?”

Claire answered first, “No, you know the answers to more of his questions than I do, but before you two discuss the coordinates of our location, I should tell you, Tony, I saw Harry in Italy.”

“So did I”—his voice lowered a pitch—“He told me he’d been with you. Actually, he showed me a picture.”

“A picture!?”—Claire stood—“What sort of picture did he show you? And what are you, or was he, implying—with him? I saw him—I wasn’t with him!”

Tony reached out and took her hand. The hardness she’d heard seconds before disappeared as his thumb rubbed the top of her hand. “It wasn’t anything—just confirmation he’d seen you.”

“Well, did he tell you that he’s a FBI agent? I didn’t get the impression it was a recent change in profession.”

Tony nodded. “He did. Apparently, he’s supposed to be my contact.” Grinning again, he added, “I’m not supposed to leave Switzerland without contacting him first.”

Phil interjected, “Damn”—also with a smile—“I knew we forgot to do something.”

“Do you think he’ll trace you here?” Claire couldn’t hide the panic from her voice.

Phil answered, “As many twists and turns and name changes as we’ve had? I’ll be lucky if I can explain where we are.”

Claire exhaled. “Good, I’m so glad you’re here—both of you, but the last thing I want are unexpected visitors.”

It was Madeline who interrupted their conversation, “Excuse me, Messieurs, Francis has clothes for each of you. They are now in your suites.” After they both thanked her, she continued, “Madame el, if there’s nothing else, we’ll also retire.”

“That’s fine, Madeline, thank you.”

A few moments later, Tony and Phil went into the house to clean up. They’d both been wearing their current clothes for over twenty-four hours and couldn’t wait to change.

Sitting alone on the lanai, Claire closed her eyes and listened to the sea. The surge of emotions over the last few hours combined with raging hormones intensified the familiar pounding in her temples. She knew her headaches bothered Tony, and she didn’t want anything to upset tonight’s reunion. There was a part of her that felt like a newlywed about to join her husband for the first time. It was a silly thought—one that couldn’t be further from the truth; nevertheless, the butterflies in her stomach and the tightened anticipation added to her stretched nerves.

She didn’t hear Madeline’s footsteps or even know she was still present until she spoke, “Madame el, are you all right?”