“Les Liaisons dangereuses,” said Nayan, vaguely embarrassed about it when he considered the actual content but not enough to lie. “It was recommended strongly, and by recommended I mean that if I have not finished reading it by the time we make port and if I haven’t formed a strong and thoughtful literary opinion on it for lively discussion, I’ll be disowned.” He held up the book with a wry expression, tapped it with two fingers. “And I cannot ‘cheat,’” he added with some feigned annoyance. “It’s the original French or I might as well just watch the Hollywood movie adaptation with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”
A small laugh as he sat back in his seat. He could not, still, clearly tell if the other man was looking at him. There was a suggestion of eyes behind the smoky dark of the glasses, but nothing to call an expression on. He carefully dog-earred his place and set the book on his knee, bracing his forearm on it as he leaned forward and offered a hand.