Page 87 of Over Her Dead Body

“Yes, I got your email. Tell her I’m very pleased with the service.”

I look at him until the smile begins to require effort.

“She nearly fired me this morning.”

He takes that in.

“Then let’s hope this collection is worth the trip.”

“You just told me you don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t.”

His phone pings. He checks the screen, then puts it away.

“Dinner when we land?”

“No.”

“You’ll need to eat.”

“I’ve been managing that without you for ten years.”

“There’s a restaurant near my apartment.”

“I’m not interested.”

“We don’t have to go to the apartment.” He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Although I’d like to see you when you’re not in such a hurry to leave.”

I lean away from him. My partnership vote, my job, the explanation I cannot give anyone—all apparently things to occupy me until he takes his clothes off.

“You turned my grief into role-play,” I say.

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“Then it was a kink.” His attention drops to my mouth. “I’m comfortable with either.”

“Listen carefully, Reid. I am going to assess a collection. Then I intend to enjoy whatever time I have left in Lisbon. None of that includes you.”

“It’s better for both of us if you call me Martin. In public, at least.”

“Fuck you.”

There is a faint mark above his collar where my teeth broke the skin. He touches it.

“You left evidence.”

“You deserved worse.”

“Next time, then.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“Then you have chosen a strange destination.”

“It’s a business trip.”