Page 231 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
“Why not?” he said.
They left two days later. After a few days in Rio de Janeiro, where Mira poked around museums while Rocco went to his jobsite and had his meetings, they flew into the heart of the Amazon River basin, landing in Manaus. There, they boarded a private yacht that cruised them in and out of river arms for four days and nights, allowing them to spot pink dolphins and massive anacondas, sloths and spider monkeys.
It was magical and gave her time to consider what she wanted to do with her life, especially after they viewed some ancient petroglyphs.
“I want to study archeology,” she told Rocco when they were eating lunch on their last day, cruising back to Manaus to catch their flight and begin their journey home.
“Oh?” He glanced up from his tablet. They finally had service again so he was checking his emails. “Where?”
“I don’t know. I have to see what’s out there.”
He nodded and his gaze went back to his emails.
She should let him work, but she’d lived so long with every single decision critiqued by Otto she had to ask, “You don’t think it’s weird that I want to go back to school?”
“No.” His gaze came up again. “I’m only surprised because you told me once that you prefer numbers over people. Archeology is the study of civilization, isn’t it?”
“You don’t think payroll is archeology?” she asked with mock affront. “Why did this person miss work? Where is the proof that they worked the hours they’re claiming? It’s nothing but digging.”
“You track their movements through the clues in their expense claims?” His mouth twitched.
“Exactly. Someone leaves you a cryptic note that you need the Rosetta Stone to decipher. Archeology would be a lateral move for me.” She popped a morsel of guava into her mouth, smirking as she chewed and swallowed.
“I bet there’s a whole discipline on the evolution of accounting.”
“Can you imagine?” she chuckled. “I only went into accounting because I didn’t think I had a choice about working at Vorstoben. Now that I’m out, I can’t imagine going back to the corporate world.”
“No? I’ve only had a handful of business meetings with you, but you’re very good at what you do. Your proficiency with something that doesn’t interest you tells me you’d shine very brightly with something that does. If that’s archeology, pursue it.” He rolled a shoulder in a why-not shrug.
A swell of emotion arrived in her chest. No one had encouraged her like that since her mother was alive. She was touched. Deeply.
Rocco was already dropping his attention back to his tablet. She didn’t resent it. They’d been in and out of service while they’d been cruising, so he had a lot of work to catch up on, but she wanted to walk around and hug him.
Several times on this trip, she had started to bring up their future, wondering where they stood. Each time she’d backed off because things were so good she didn’t want to spoil it by pushing for a commitment he might not be ready to offer.
The more time she spent with him, however, the more her feelings for him grew. Especially when he acted like that—with praise and respect and support, making the prospect of their eventual parting harder to contemplate.
She opened her mouth, not sure how to ask,How much longer do you think you’ll want me?
“We have a dinner the night we get back,” he said with an absent grimace. “We won’t stay long, but they’re important clients. I’d like to make an appearance. Do you mind?”
“No, that’s fine,” she said easily.
A little longer, she acknowledged with a glow of relief.
Silvio was still not speaking to him. Rocco was making no effort to mend fences on his side, either. He knew what Silvio wanted—for him to cut things off with Mira and send her back to Berlin none the wiser.
Eventually Silvio’s wife, Claudina, reached out.
“I’ve never seen him in such a foul mood,” she said. “He won’t talk to me about it. Come see us. Work this out,” she coaxed.
He invented a pressing appointment in Lisbon then spent a few days there with Mira, mostly on the topless beach.
He didn’t want to give her up. That was the bald truth. Not even for Silvio.
Yet he knew that if and when the truth did come out, he would lose her. Even if he told her the truth himself, and swore her to secrecy, he had already left it too long. She wouldn’t forgive him for keeping such important information from her.
Silvio wouldn’t forgive him for telling her.
