Jo shot him a look as if to say drop it. Her mention of Corfu was in relation only to her love of the island, not any particular desire to commit herself to any one place for any length of time. "My man —" which was a ridiculous term to refer to Zach as if Jo had ever heard one, "— avoids confrontation as if his life depends on it. So, no. We've never discussed any of our ... plans at great length."

Draining the remaining rum in her glass, Jo sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Alfred had his time to explore the world (if one ignored the shipwrecked part of it, anyway), so Jo could understand why he was ready for such commitment. What she didn't understand was why he was so convinced she needed to be, too.