Rule Breaker: A Novel of the Breeds (16 page)

BOOK: Rule Breaker: A Novel of the Breeds
13.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“How did you get to know so many of them? The bars?” her mother asked, her lips tightening in disapproval of where she had met them. “But it doesn’t explain how you came to be invited here and now know Director Wyatt and his family so well. I can’t imagine that’s easily done.”

Had her mother forgotten who had saved her the night Mark had died? Or were her memories just of her seeing her son’s body on that stretcher, that ring of red at his neck?

A chill raced through her, cutting through the serenity she’d managed to project in the past hours.

Gypsy turned back to her parents and arched her brows. “I don’t know, Mother, they like me, I guess,” she said faintly. “That or they like Kandy’s chocolate mousse cake.”

It was probably the cake, now, but nine years ago, it had been Jonas who had sworn she would always have a safe place to live if her parents no longer wanted her.

Her mother frowned; her father just watched her with that faintly accusing look she found so disheartening. It was one of the few looks she couldn’t read, and that made her nervous.

“You should have mentioned you knew them,” her mother said accusingly.

She shrugged. “It didn’t seem a big deal.” More importantly, her parents never wanted to hear about the Breeds who came into the store, or those she’d become friends with. Actually, she didn’t remember her mother ever caring who her friends were.

She turned back to the scenery, wondering if Jonas intended to come out and face her anytime soon.

As the thought went through her mind, the door on the other side of the room opened again and Diane returned, followed by Jonas and Rachel.

The director looked particularly sophisticated and handsome. His black hair had grown out a bit; his eerie swirling silver eyes seemed to see everything, know everything.

His smile was friendly and polite as he was introduced to her parents, then lit up with genuine fondness as Gypsy rose to her feet and accepted a quick hug from him.

“It’s good to see you again, Gypsy,” he said sincerely. “You need to visit more often.”

That was Jonas. He was a kind man, but that kindness did not get in the way of whatever machinations he was involved in. It made it hard to hate him, easy to love him, impossible to trust him.

“I try, Jonas,” she assured him. “But that three jobs thing, ya know?” She smiled up at him, comfortable with the affection but waiting for the shoe to drop.

“I told you when we first arrived, there’s a job waiting for you with the Bureau.” He gave her a firm, knowing look. “At any time you could have walked into a PR position in D.C. or in the liaison office in Window Rock we established several years ago. All you had to do was give me the word.”

“And I told you,” she reminded him firmly, “I’d kill you the first time you tried to run my office and then Rachel would hate me.”

“All according to the circumstances, Gypsy.” Rachel laughed as she moved forward for a quick hug as well. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

Gypsy returned the embrace, observing the practice she had seen with others when around women whose husbands or fiancés were Breeds. She let Rachel embrace her, aware that the other woman’s hands never touched skin, but rather her back this time. The weather had been cool the last time they’d met and Gypsy had worn a jacket. Rachel had gripped her forearms then, leaning close but not really touching.

“Tell me, how’s that little moo-baby doing?” After Amber had called the mousse cake “moo-cake,” Gypsy had taken to calling her the little moo-baby.

“She was asking for moo-cake the other day.” Rachel tried to smile, but Gypsy could see the pain and fear in her eyes.

“You should have called me,” Gypsy chided her gently. “You know I would have had Kandy make one the instant I knew.”

“Gypsy’s mousse cakes are actually much better than Kandy’s.” Her mother spoke behind her then. “You should have her bake one of her own.”

Gypsy shot Rachel a little wink, hoping she’d think her mother’s bragging was just motherly loyalty.

“She didn’t mention that when she was here before,” Jonas said, moving behind his lover and placing his hand at her lower back as his gaze met Gypsy’s. “I’ll have to see if I can’t get her to do that for us soon.”

And he wasn’t joking.

Great. Of course, Jonas would know it wasn’t just motherly pride.

“I’m a very busy woman, Director,” she reminded him with a cool smile. “And I understand I’m about to become even more busy with one of your commanders?”

Jonas chuckled. “I can see the suspicion in those pretty eyes, Ms. McQuade. Did you think the offer a ruse of some sort?”

“Perhaps not a ruse—”

“Good.” He nodded. “Because the decision was taken out of my hands by Seth Lawrence and Dane Vanderale, two of the Breeds’ most opinionated benefactors. They’ve been pushing for more individual press where the new investigative division and the division director running it was concerned; they just had yet to pin down their choice of DD and convince him to agree to the job. I’m happy to say, that was achieved day before yesterday.”

She knew there was no hiding her surprise and she didn’t even try to do so. She saved her energy for those times when hiding her emotions, truths or lies, was far more important.

“I see,” she murmured.

“Jonas said you would instantly suspect him of some calculation.” Rachel’s amusement was thick as she glanced at her lover. “I warned him it was all his own fault.”

At least his lover knew him well, Gypsy thought, amused.

“The rumors are vicious, Director,” she agreed, allowing her smile to lose the cool edge as she glanced back up at him. “And several of your Breeds can be quite—charming.”

She opted for politeness rather than rude or insulting at that moment.

“Don’t think so highly of me quite yet,” he warned her, his own smile warming his eyes. “My commander finally got around to informing me less than an hour ago that the two of you might not be on the best footing.”

She felt it then.

That tightness in her stomach, the rush of adrenaline preparing to rocket through her system.

She had missed even more sleep than normal in the past few days because of that damned Breed.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Gypsy, I promise you, we only just learned of the fact that Commander Breaker may have”—Rachel cleared her throat delicately—“offended you in some way.”

Oh brother.

Damn him. Damn him.

What had he done, kissed and told at the first chance?

She wished she had her bag. She needed something to strangle, and she assumed Jonas would prefer she strangle the strap of her purse rather than his commander.

“I didn’t offend her, I kissed her.”

Whirling around, all too aware of the fact that her parents were far too interested in this little meeting now, Gypsy lifted her arms, crossed them over her breasts, then threw her weight to one hip as she faced the Lion Breed.

“Definitely a criminal offense,” she heard her father murmur behind her, his voice assuring her it was all he could do not to laugh at the predicament she found herself in.

At least he wasn’t acting as though
she
had committed some criminal act by kissing a Breed.

Her mother was silent, though Gypsy swore she could feel that “mother” look of curiosity and disapproval boring into her.

The arrogance in Rule’s face as he closed the door behind him and stepped into the room had her teeth gritting furiously.

“Commander, may I introduce Gypsy’s parents, Hansel and Greta McQuade.” Jonas moved ahead of her and drew her parents forward. “Owners of McQuade Image Consulting, who are being tasked with ensuring that your entrance into society and the division directorship happens seamlessly.”

“Mr., Mrs. McQuade.” Shaking her parents’ hands, he then stepped back, his hands going behind his back, his legs spread, planted firmly beneath his height as he stared down at them with a grin. “That’s quite a task you’ve taken on there. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

Hansel McQuade could barely restrain his smile, and Gypsy watched in disgust as Rule turned on the charm. Of course, her father responded immediately. For all her appearances of warm graciousness, her mother’s gaze told another story though.

“Greta and I will have the pleasure of working with your liaisons, actually. Gypsy has been given your account, but you can trust she’s well qualified and knows exactly what she’s doing.”

“As I heard.” Satisfaction began to gleam in his eyes. “And I must say, I’m quite happy with the choice of consultant tasked with handling me.”

It was all she could do to contain her flush as his gaze met her, reminding her far too clearly just who had been handling whom no more than a few short hours before.

“Commander Breaker.” Her mother stepped slightly forward then, shooting Gypsy a firm, warning look. “I’m certain whatever—offenses Gypsy may have felt will not affect her professionalism. I’m confident you’re in excellent hands.”

Wicked humor sparked in those electric blue eyes as they met her gaze. An immediate flush of heat began scalding her senses as that adrenaline just waiting to race through her now shot through her like rocket fuel.

Immediately her breasts felt swollen, her nipples far too sensitive. Her clit was throbbing, dampness rushing from her vagina as the sensitive inner flesh began to ache for his touch again. The memory of lying beneath him in the backseat of the Dragoon, his hips cradled between her thighs, their clothing a hated barrier between his cock and the needy depths of her vagina, raced through her mind.

“I agree with you, Ms. McQuade,” Rule assured her mother. “I’m certain I’m in very capable hands.”

Heat flushed her face then as anger began to fuel arousal and arousal began to burn like wildfire through her senses.

In capable hands, was he?

She was going to strangle him.

Neuter him.

She’d make him wish he’d never touched her to begin with, let alone continue to contemplate it each time she managed to escape him.

Her fingers curled into fists as she kept her arms crossed beneath her breasts, ignoring the look he flicked to the now too-sensitive curves.

And he was well aware of her arousal too.

She could see it in his eyes, see it in the sensual flames beginning to ignite there.

Suddenly, she could feel his touch just as she had felt it earlier. His fingers moving beneath her shorts, rasping against her flesh and sending pleasure racing through her body.

It was all she could do to hold back a shiver of response.

A chill of dread.

“Let’s take our seats, then.” Jonas broke into the erotic tension beginning to whip between them as he directed them back to the seating area.

She wasn’t the least bit surprised that Commander Breaker took a seat on the other end of the short sofa she claimed. Her parents sat on the love seat next to her with Jonas, and Rachel took a similar sofa across from her.

“Shall I begin?” Jonas suggested, his gaze turning to Gypsy. “I happened to have been nosy.” He grinned. “I went over the notes in the file you brought with you. Excellent, by the way, and many are similar to the list of concerns and suggestions that Dane and Seth were kind enough to text to me. We’ll go over them, then adjourn until the ball next week. We’ll make an announcement to the press the next morning, and hopefully we’ll be able to get together to discuss our game plan within a few days of that. Agreed?”

Agreed?

Well, everyone else agreed.

“May I have my notes back, Jonas?” she asked sweetly, not at all happy that he had gone through them, but it had been no more than she had expected.

The grin that edged at his lips was still warm and affectionate as he stared back at her.

“I would . . .” He winced, then glanced at Rachel.

Rachel bit the side of her lip before staring back at Gypsy with amused discomfort. “I’m sure you’ll want to see it to be certain, but I swear.” She lifted her hand with a light laugh. “Amber managed to get hold of the papers and massacred them. I could have sworn she was jabbering ‘moo-cake.’”

Gypsy felt her heart melt.

There was no way the toddler could have known she had eaten the last slice of Kandy’s chocolate mousse cake that she’d slipped from the store before leaving for Connie’s.

“We’re going to have to get that kid a moo-cake,” she decided. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

Rachel’s smile was one of pleased surprise. “I have time tomorrow.”

“Then Amber has to have moo-cake tomorrow. Tell her Auntie Gypsy will be around sometime tomorrow afternoon with goodies,” she declared.

That baby would have moo-cake if Gypsy had to make it herself.

At least Jonas had notes of a sort, Gypsy thought as the conversation turned back to the contract the Breeds were offering McQuade Image Consulting.

By time the meeting was over, she was satisfied that the offer was legitimate, but more concerned than ever in regard to her own duties. Because the longer she sat there, the more she ached, and the more she craved that hint of chocolate and peppermint Rule’s kiss held.

And she hated needing him. Hated it more than she could say because it threatened everything she was, everything she had believed about herself.

He was far too dangerous, and she was far too weak.

And she had no idea whatsoever how to combat either.

...

“Did you replace the device?” Lawe entered the suite behind his mate and faced Jonas as Rule stood with his back to the room, staring out of the huge windows after Gypsy and her parents had left.

Tension filled Rule’s shoulders as his anger seemed to shimmer in the air around him.

There had been a listening device in Greta McQuade’s purse. It was very cleverly sewn into the lining and programmed to only record. Recording devices held a very different electronic signal than an audio device programmed to transmit.

Thankfully, Jonas scanned for any and all signatures. Then he scanned for anomalies if he found no signatures. If there was a scanner for it, then Jonas scanned for it. Still, it was more luck than anything that it had been found.

“It was returned.” Jonas nodded as he moved behind the bar and poured himself a drink.

Other books

Deadly Passion, an Epiphany by Gabriella Bradley
Back to Madeline Island by Jay Gilbertson
Heaven by Randy Alcorn
Ways to See a Ghost by Diamand, Emily
Fiercombe Manor by Kate Riordan
The General's Christmas by C. Metzinger
Her Last Scream by Kerley, J. A.
Targets of Opportunity by Jeffrey Stephens
Slam by Nick Hornby