“You’re not married, right? What is the term?” Oh, you bastard. “Consort.” Barabas rose behind Curran. “The term is ‘Consort.’” “How quaint.” Hugh winked at Curran. “No marriage, no division of property, and no strings attached. Well played, Lennart. Well played.” Curran’s eyes went gold. “Stay out of my business.” Hugh smiled. “Heaven forbid. Although you should know that if the hunt had a prize for the most elegant kill, she would’ve won it.”
