His office door was locked, as usual.
Paranoid prick, she thought, respecting the hell out of him for being as suspicious as he was.
The snick of the lock being deactivated followed his hand moving into his pants pocket. Wrapping her hand around the knob again, she stepped inside the office and waited for the door to close behind him.
Once the room was secure, she removed the small case holding the nano-nit she’d collected from the spa in Broken Butte, New Mexico. She’d put it in place more than a month ago, in the manager’s office where the majority of the information would go through.
Full audio and video.
The tiny bit of robo-electronics was incredible.
“Here you go.” Smothering a yawn, she handed the small plastic case over to him. “Mission accomplished and all that.”
He took the case—ultra thin, an inch square perhaps—and flipped it to his desk, still glaring at her.
Uh-oh.
Gypsy stared at the case, then back to Cullen as her lips thinned in irritation.
“I’m not in the mood for this shit,” she informed him warily. “I don’t know what your problem is . . .”
“If you’re sleeping with that Breed, then kindly inform me now,” he snapped, his arms going over his broad chest, his brown eyes snapping with ire. “Because he’s making my life highly uncomfortable, Gypsy. Highly.” The last word was a low, furious sound directed between his clenched teeth.
She almost flinched.
“What the hell has he done?” Her eyes went wide, disbelief and confusion smacking her brain as the depth of Cullen’s anger finally registered. “For God’s sake, Cullen, since when am I responsible for what some crazed Breed does?”
“Are you sleeping with him?” he bit out again. “So help me, Gypsy, if this is because of a damned lover’s spat—”
“I’m not sleeping with him!” she informed him, outraged. “God, I’ve barely spoken to him.”
Hell, she couldn’t sleep with anyone. It was killing her.
What Breaker did was catch her gaze across a room, he wasn’t picky which one, and she swore he was mentally f**king her at those times.
Taking her.
Pushing into her.
He made all her little feminine parts just perk right up and start prepping for the invasion.
Damned feminine parts.
“Then what the f**k is his problem?” Turning, he stalked to his chair, throwing himself into it as he continued to glare at her. “The man has been in every bar, nightclub and dive, legal and otherwise, and actually managed to crash too many f**king parties looking for your ass for the past week. Get him off the radar, Gypsy.”
Get him off the radar?
She stared at him, wide eyed. “What does he want? God, Cullen, we’ve barely spoken. He flirts a little. His buddy, that damned Vanderale heir they’ve let run amok, pays more attention to me than Breaker does.”
“I don’t f**king care what he wants,” he informed her furiously. “Get your ass out there tonight, Gypsy, and by God give it to him, or find a way to make him stop wanting it. Either way, get him off the f**king radar before someone decides to find out why one little party girl is so MIA that even the Breeds can’t find her.”
She stifled a groan.
The Commander was hot as hell. He did things to her libido that should be outlawed. That didn’t mean she had time for this. No matter how eager certain other parties were for her to establish a closer, though nonsexual, relationship with him.
This was just uncalled for, though. She was tired. She wanted to sleep.
“Cullen . . .”
“Don’t Cullen me.” As he jackknifed in his seat, his glare took on a whole new meaning as pure fury glittered in his eyes and deepened his voice. “Get it done. Tonight. Or kiss this little side job of yours good-bye. You’ll definitely be relegated to the damned phones, on midnight shift, for the next year if it’s not taken care of. Now.”
Fuck.
She really wanted to sleep tonight.
But she really, really liked her little side job too, dammit.
“Fine, tonight,” she muttered, wondering what the hell had happened to her little world while she was gone. “But I don’t see how any of this is my damned fault. I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re not five,” he pointed out sarcastically.
“Then stop reminding me of what it felt like to be blamed when I didn’t do it,” she informed him pointedly. “I was hoping to sleep tonight.”
“Sleep after you get that damned Breed off your ass.”
“I didn’t invite him to get on it, Cullen,” she protested, heading to the door.
“You did something,” he grumbled. “Whatever you did, fix it. Reject him, kiss him, f**k him, I don’t give a shit and don’t want to know about it. But make him go away.”
She slammed the door on the last order.
Dammit, she really wanted to sleep.
...
Sometimes, it just didn’t pay a man or a Breed to make a decision, Rule decided as he lounged against the bar at yet another honky-tonk on the list of known clubs Gypsy often found herself at.
Knowing he’d finally caught up with her hadn’t helped his mood, or his irritation. She’d eluded him for a week and he was growing tired of waiting for her to get her ass back to town.
Rule was beginning to think he was going to have to actually chase her down if he was ever going to see her again.