Chapter 49

“That’ll be work,” he muttered, recognizing the ringtone, and he bolted out of the bathroom to answer it.

I put away the iodine, dropped the washcloth into the hamper, and went into the living room.

“But I’m…” Wills stood there, very naked, very gorgeous, and very unhappy. “…I’m supposed to take my orders from—” … “No, I’m not questioning your authority, sir. I know Mr. Vincent is out of town, and that you’re—” … “But—” … “Yes, but—” … “Yes, sir. May I at least—” His eyes got that flat look, and his mouth became a grim line. “Very well, sir. I’ll pack a suitcase and pick up my tickets at Dulles.”

I felt deflated. Even when he had the weekend off, there was always the likelihood that he’d be called in to work.

“I’d better…” He glanced impatiently at the clock on the mantel. “If I’m to make the flight on time, I have to start packing now,” he snarled into the phone. “Yes. Goodbye, sir.” He flipped his phone shut. “Goddamned supercilious son of a bitch bastard.”