Page 135 of Mean Streak


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“Yes!”

She took a deep, stabilizing breath. “Since when?”

“Makes no difference now. It’s over.”

“Oh?”

“I called an end to it.”

“I repeat, since when?”

“Recently.”

“How recently? Since my disappearance?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been seemly, would it, to be dallying with a lover when the fate of my wife was unknown.”

“Do the detectives know about it?”

“They discovered it, yes.”

“While investigating you?”

“That’s right. They were delighted to find you alive, but I think they, particularly Grange, were disappointed that they couldn’t charge me with murder.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did it delight you that I turned up alive? Or not?”

The skin covering his face actually tightened. “I’m not even going to honor that with a reply.”

“Which is not an answer, is it?” she murmured.

If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it. He reached for his drink and sipped at it again.

“Who is the woman?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“She’s unimportant, Emory. I didn’t begin the affair because of burning desire or unrequited love.”

“You wanted to hurt me.”

“I suppose so.”

“Why?”

“Quid pro quo. You have your other loves, and they consume you. They’re all more important to you than I’ll ever hope to be. Your medical practice, your patients, your marathons, your charities.”

“It had nothing to do with the drug trials and my lukewarm opinion?”

“No more so than anything else.”

“Oh, I see. There are more offenses I’m not even aware of.”

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