Page 7 of When He Defends
Only, he didn’t insult her. Gray stopped right in front of her. One big hand reached out, he caught her chin, bent toward her, and as he angled her chin up even more with a touch that was oddly gentle and incredibly careful, he growled, “Bastard. Why the hell didn’t you let me put a bullet in his brain?” His fingers brushed lightly over the mark. Not a scratch really. The screwdriver hadn’t broken the skin. A purplish bruise.
She’d always bruised easily.
His careful touch was doing strange things to her. But, full disclosure, she tended to have that reaction whenever they touched. Her heart raced. Her breath came faster. Tension pooled within her and…
I get turned on.
Definitely not the reaction she was supposed to have to her growly partner.
She hurriedly stepped back.
His hand lingered in the air for a moment before falling. Fisting at his side.
“We don’t put bullets in the brains of our suspects.” She thought her voice sounded suitably crisp. Points for her.
“Jake Waller killed three women that we know about, Emerson. You and I both suspected there were more. Based on all those trophies, we were right. Hopefully, we’ll get him to reveal more about his vics. You saw the trophy case—uh, trophy toolbox. There was a whole lot of jewelry in that case. Lots of carefully preserved hair locks. More than would belong to just three vics.”
Yes, he was right on that score. Butshewas also right. “You’re not the bad guy. You don’t get to pull the trigger unless it’s necessary.”
His brows rose. “Sounds to me like you’re the one giving orders.” A negative shake of his head. “That’s not how our relationship works.”
So, they had a relationship now, did they? Interesting. Maybe it was time to cut through the BS and get to the heart of the matter. “What is your problem with me?”
“Excuse me?”
Oh, she thought he’d heard her just fine. But she’d be clearer. Louder. “You’ve given me grief since the moment we met.” He had. They’d met in person for the first time in a Mississippi jail. He’d been less than impressed with her then. And, apparently, he still was. “I’m good at profiling. I know killers. I found Waller’s trophy box in about five seconds. You should be thanking me.” She nodded. Her careful control might have started to crack. The tiniest bit. Her hands flew to her hips. “Instead, you’re here, doing your big, bad wolf impression.”
His dark brows flew up. “Say that again?”
“You’re huffing and puffing and threatening to dissolve our partnership.”
“You were supposed to stay in the car.”His eyes glittered at her. “You arenotan FBI agent. You’re a freelancer who should not be in the field. When I give an order, it’s not for shits and giggles. The orders are to keep you safe. To keep you alive. But if I can’t count on you to follow even the simplest of directives, how am I supposed to trust you?”
She didn’t need him to hold her hand every second of the day. Or to encase her in bubble wrap. She understood the risks of the job. “I’ve had self-defense classes.”
His teeth snapped together.
“I know how to fire a gun. Though you haven’tgivenme one to use in the course of our investigations yet.”
“Because you are not an FBI agent,” he repeated. “You got the gig because your senator mom pulled strings and shoved you down my throat. It was either accept you and start babysitting duty or get my ass demoted.”
Now she blinked. She could feel heat stinging her cheeks. She hadn’t known her mother had used her influence that intensely. She had not realized that Gray had been told if he didn’t accept her as his temporary partner, he’d lose his job.“I’m sorry.” Brittle. She whirled away. Hurried for her bag. Grabbed her phone. “I’ll get this sorted out immediately.” She dialed her mother. Pressed the phone to her ear and heard the rings.One. Two. Three.“You should never have been faced with the possibility of losing your job—wait!”
He’d just plucked the phone from her. Ended the call. Now he frowned at her. A faint line cut between his brows. “You didn’t know about the demotion bit, huh? That was news to you?”
Miserable, embarrassed, she shook her head. The burn in her cheeks was even stronger.Not only did my mother twist arms at the Bureau in order to get me the position, she literally threatened Gray.“No wonder you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. Things would probably be one hell of a lot easier if I did. But then again, I’ve never been one for easy. Easy is boring.”
The phone rang in his grip.
“That’s my mother,” she said, recognizing the ringtone.
“Figured as much.”
“I’m going to tell her to reach out to her contact at the Bureau. To cancel any pressure she may have applied. Your job will be safe.” An exhale. “And I will find someone else to work with at the FBI.”
The phone kept ringing.
