Free The Honeymoon Arrangement by Joss Wood Page A

martial arts?’ she asked, resisting the urge to mention his lack of food. Even if she was going to be his ‘wife’, she wasn’t in a position to nag him about eating properly and taking care of himself. But, damn, she wanted to.
    ‘Pretty much everything, actually. But I concentrate on Taekwondo and jiu-jitsu, occasionally taking a side trip into Krav Maga—’
    ‘Notoriously difficult—out of the Israeli army.’ She sawthe surprise flicker in his eyes at her even knowing about Krav Maga—but, hey, she read. A lot. ‘Are you ranked?’
    ‘You are the nosiest woman I’ve ever met,’ Finn complained—not for the first and, she knew, not for the last time.
    ‘And—I’ll say it again—you’re one of the few men who don’t like talking about themselves.’
    ‘So why do you keep asking?’
    ‘‘Cos you’re
fascinating
,’ Callie replied, shoving her tongue into her cheek.
    ‘Flirt.’
    Callie dropped into a quick curtsy. ‘Thank you, sir. So, what’s your rank?’
    Same question, phrased another way. His quick smile and the elaborate roll of his eyes told her that he was enjoying their banter. It would do him good to laugh, to smile.
    ‘I’m ranked highly.’
    She sighed dramatically at his answer. ‘Trying to get information out of you is like trying to get blood out of a stone.’ Callie took her glass of wine and sipped. ‘Why don’t you buy mementos of the places you’ve been?’
    He blinked at the change of subject as he twisted the top off a bottle of beer. ‘What? Like tourist tat?’
    Callie sent him a patient look. ‘Come on, Finn. Like you, I travel a lot and I know what is tat and what is art. And
everybody
sees something along the way that calls to them. I picked up a stunning vase in Murano that I treasure, a piece of street art in Rome. What do
you
buy?’ She gestured to the soulless house. ‘This is your house—why isn’t there anything of you in it?’
    Finn took a long sip of beer. ‘You’re going to nag me until I tell you, aren’t you?’
    ‘Actually, if it’s a touchy or personal subject I won’t. I know that I’m relentless, and curious, but I do respect your right not to talk. Just say
pass
and we’ll move on.’Callie shook her head and caught his look of surprise. ‘This agreement we have doesn’t include sharing our secrets. Well, you’re welcome to share yours but I’m not sharing mine.’
    Finn raised the bottle to his lips again and shook his head looking bewildered. That was okay, Callie thought. Bewildered she could live with. Annoyed or bored would make her think that she’d overstepped the mark.
    ‘So why is there nothing personal in your house?’ Callie grinned at his exasperation. ‘What? You didn’t say pass!’
    ‘You are going to drive me crazy—I can just tell.’ Finn closed his eyes and scratched the spot between his eyebrows. ‘When I bought the house Liz moved in. She travelled as well, but she spent six weeks away and then a month at home. Her schedule was set but I could be away for two months, home for a week and gone again. She asked me time and time again to help her decorate the house—but, hell, I’m a guy. I’d rather watch sport or … watch paint dry. So one day she dumped all my stuff and all her stuff in the middle of the lounge—right over there—in front of the TV. There was a rugby match I wanted to watch so we had to sort through it. The whole process made me realize …’
    ‘Pray tell?’ Callie’s lips quirked when he paused for dramatic effect.
    ‘… that I buy crap and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near art galleries or home décor shops. If it’s cheap and nasty, tasteless and fake, I
will
buy it.’
    Callie’s laughed bounced off the walls, and she was still chuckling when Finn led the way to the veranda, where Callie took a seat on an antique bench that had been converted into a swing.
    ‘It’s really better for everyone if I just hand over my credit card. Nobody gets hurt that way.’
    Finn