Page 13 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"You're a glass half empty sort of gal, aren't you?" Max said.

"I have a lot of experience with the darker side of humanity."

"So do I, but I don't let it spoil everything else."

"Yay for you." She spun on her heels again. "We need to check this place for cameras."

"Oh, come on. Now you're being paranoid."

"I wish," she huffed, "I once investigated a hotel in Glasgow where the owner had hidden cameras in every room. He sold the footage on the internet. Then there was the office manager who put them in the smoke alarms, and blackmailed staff over behavior at work. Oh, and there was the tech-savvy octogenarian who put tiny stick-on cameras around her neighbor's properties to better keep up with gossip. Apparently, it was becoming harder to hear what they were saying from her window. In court, her defense was that she needed new hearing aids. Trust me, when it comes to people doing weird and disturbing surveillance, I've seen it all, and that's without even getting into the truly sick stuff. Need I go on?"

Part of Max was fascinated by Violet's experience and could listen to her stories for hours. The rest of him knew better than to ask her to continue. He wasn't sure he was ready for what she might say.

"Okay," he said. "How do we check for cameras?"

"I have a device."

Of course she did.

Violet headed for the bedroom, unzipped her suitcase, and removed a small black box. It looked like an old two-way radio with a longer electrical lead coming off it. She pointed the lead at the mirror and switched the device on. Max lost interest when nothing happened. He'd at least been expecting some flashing lights and maybe a beeping sound. But nope, there was nothing.

It also looked like it was going to take quite some time for her to go room to room checking every surface for hidden devices, so he decided to unpack while he waited.

"I'll shower first," Violet said when she was done. "We've got a couple of hours before we need to meet up with Rodrigo and Katrina. It's best if we use them to freshen up and rest."

"Is that an order?" Max teased.

She cocked a brow at him in challenge, making it clear she thought his question was stupid.

"Yes, it's an order," he said with a sigh. "You're really bossy, you know that?"

Her brow puckered in annoyance. "You pay me to keep you alive," she pointed out.

"No, I don't. This is a freebie, remember?"

"I still get paid." She walked past him, heading through to the bedroom area, then suddenly stopped and turned back to him. "Actually, I get paid whether you live or die." She gave him her first genuine smile since they'd met. It was dazzling. So much so that Max knew he'd do anything in his power to see it again. "Who knew doing a job that didn't depend on the client paying would have an upside."

Max blinked a couple of times to clear the daze her smile had caused. "That's not funny." He followed her through the bungalow. "What’re you doing now?" he asked when she started stripping the sheet from the bed.

"Getting irritated with a Canadian who can't keep his nose out of my business."

Violet took the sheet into the bathroom, pulled the small stool over to the doors, and hung the sheet across the glass.

"Do you really think that's necessary?" Max said when she was done.

"I expect privacy while I shower, even if the hotel doesn't think it's necessary. Do not come in here. Do not look in here. If I catch you anywhere near the bathroom while I'm in there I'll shoot you."

"You can't. You had to leave your weapon in Houston, remember?"

Violet narrowed her eyes at him. "If you come in here, or disturb me in any way, I will hog-tie you every time I need to use the facilities. Are we clear?"

"Have at it." Max gestured to the bathroom. "You might have met a lot of disturbing people while you were a cop, but you're safe with me."

Violet snorted. "Yeah, right." Then turned on her heels and stalked away.

"I'm serious," Max called after her. "My mother taught me how to be a gentleman. I respect the privacy of other people."

"Go away, Max," Violet called back. "One more word and I gag you."