“Actually I’m not talking about Kuchin.”
She gave him a hard stare.
Whit grinned maliciously. “Tall, mysterious, and the scaler of walls?”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” she answered coldly.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do—”
“Then don’t, Whit.”
“Just watch yourself.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She gave him a sideways glance. “Did you really paint a swastika on a target’s forehead using his blood after shooting him in the balls?”
“What can I say? I’m an artiste.”
“Right. I’m heading back.”
“So dinner with our Ukrainian friend tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I wonder if tall and mysterious will be hovering.”
“It’s a small village.”
“Well, just don’t get yourself in the middle of a ménage à trois. They can be messy. And before you ask, yes, I speak from experience.”
“Whit, I don’t know how I tolerate you some days.”
“It’s bound to be my charm.”
“How do you know you even have any?”
He looked offended by the question. “Jesus, woman, I’m Irish. It’s in our DNA.”
CHAPTER
34
REGGIE HAD INSISTED that they eat at one of the restaurants in Gordes instead of at his villa, and Waller had finally relented.
“You are tenacious,” he had said in a mildly scolding tone.
“No, I’m just exercising common sense. I don’t really know you. And my parents wouldn’t have wanted me to go unescorted to your house, even just for dinner.”
“Wise people, your parents.”
“They were, yes.”
“I see. I am sorry.”
“So am I,” Reggie had said firmly.