Page 17 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"Like what?" Violet demanded, offended.

"How about the two rooms you claimed on the ground floor of the office warehouse? You moved in about ten minutes after we arrived in Houston, put new locks on the doors and refused to share the keys," Rodrigo said, thoroughly entertained. "Annabelle is still trying to figure out how she lost control of part of her building."

Max was studying her again, as though she was the Sunday crossword, and he was stuck. "You live in the Benson Security office building?"

"What?" she demanded. "It's the sensible option. It's an easy commute to work, the rent is cheap?—"

Rodrigo burst out laughing. "That's because you don't pay any."

She ignored the outburst. "And I have everything I need. It's practically an apartment within the building."

Katrina grinned. "It's two old rooms and a tiny bathroom. One of the rooms doesn't even have any windows."

"I renovated them." Now she was getting defensive, and it was ruining her wonderful meal.

"You made the triplets put a shower in the toilet, and a sink in one of the rooms, so you could have a kitchen area," Katrina corrected.

Violet didn't plan on dignifying that with an argument. "And, I'll have you know that I do pay rent." She glared at Rodrigo.

"How exactly do you pay rent?" Rodrigo said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Tell Max how you pay rent, because Noah told me it isn't in cash."

She tried to look haughty but wasn't sure she pulled it off. "I watch the front door," she said.

The three of them shared a look before bursting into laughter.

CHAPTER SIX

"You know," Max said as the four of them wandered through the resort after dinner. "That apartment story makes it look like you're living up to the cliché of being a cheap Scot."

Oh, he so had a death wish. "Scottish people aren't cheap. They're amongst some of the most generous people on the planet. They're just…canny with their money."

"Canny as in: 'I canny spend any so please pay for me'?" He grinned, proving once and for all that he had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

"No, as in smart and thoughtful about it."

"Right, so smart they'd rather squat than get their own apartment."

"I don't squat." That was just rude. "Noah and Annabelle turned the top floor into one large apartment, and I turned the ground floor into a smaller one. People do it with old buildings all the time. We repurposed for accommodation instead of warehousing crap."

He smiled wide. Not quite a dimple smile, but nearly. She held her breath, waiting to see if they would appear, but they didn't. Pity. It would have made him seem less irritating.

"Warehousing crap," he mused. "That isn't a technical term I'm familiar with."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So I don't have your skill with words." She smiled back. It was her shark smile. The one that usually came before pain. She was gratified when he took a step back. "But I communicate in different ways," she said, lacing the words with a threat.

"You know," he said. "Not everything can be resolved with violence."

"Name one thing," she challenged.

"Uh…" Max looked perplexed.

"See?" Violet nodded. "Whatever the problem, violence is the answer."

"No," he said. "You can't solve a medical crisis with violence." He looked triumphant.

"I beg to differ. I have, on occasion, received faster and better medical treatment after I've threatened a doctor or two. I also had the experience, quite early on, of a male doctor who wasn't sympathetic to period pain. I found he was more understanding after I'd administered a well-placed kick."

His eyebrows shot up his head. "That's not true, you're messing with me again."