Rule Breaker

CHAPTER 4

Two nights later, Gypsy was still trying to figure out where her sister was going after work every night. This had been going on longer than the Breeds had been in town, so she couldn’t attribute it to Loki. Besides, she’d seen Loki at the last bar she’d been in, and he’d been confused as hell when she asked if Kandy was with him.

“Gypsy Rum!” An inebriated college boy, barely twenty-one, his alcohol-glazed eyes squinting, called out the greeting as Gypsy stepped into one of the busiest band bars on the Navajo Reservation border.

“Sober up, Slim,” she ordered the kid, knowing the consequences if his father caught wind of tonight’s overjovial state. “Daddy will be after your ass in a few hours if you’re not home.”

“Fuck him,” Slim drawled, slurring the insult. “He needs a beer.”

And no truer words had ever been said, she thought, throwing the boy a wave as she contained her laughter and moved for the bar while watching the crowd carefully for the sight of her sister among the throng.

Slap Happy’s was filled every weekend with drunks, wannabe punks, biker dudes and biker babes, wicked Breeds and rogue Breeds, soldiers, warriors, male and female and every sort of desperado in between.

Tonight, she was betting it had maxed out the limit of allowable bodies, if the time it took her to get from the door to the bar was any indication.

Cops and criminals were known to share space here, as well as rogue Coyotes and Bureau of Breed Affairs enforcers along with any arm candy or wannabe sweet that could be had.

It was also one of the best rumor mills and gossip socials outside the private weekend or illegal desert parties that often sprang up on the reservation itself.

Unfortunately, patrolling Breeds and rogue Coyotes looking for trouble had managed to make the desert parties all but impossible to have. The private weekend parties had been scarce as well, due to the isolation of many of the ranches and small estates where they were held.

There were actually several scheduled in the coming weeks since news that the Bureau of Breed Affairs and the Navajo Nation were negotiating the possibility of locating a central Breed office in Window Rock. One that would focus on the enforcement of Breed Law, for both Breeds and humans, in the western states.

Until then, Gypsy was forced to resign herself to the larger, rougher bars instead to find the sister still two years away from being able to legally enter.

Loose lips and secrets discussed in the so-called anonymity of a crowd was another reason she was there tonight, though. According to one of the enforcers at the bar where Gypsy regularly met friends on Friday nights, Kandy had been seen here the night before with several of her friends. And that did not sound like her sister.

The band was taking a break for the moment, the holographic substitute band pelting out music instead to please the crowd on the dance floor.

She let a smile play at her lips as she wedged herself between two recognizable hard bodies at the bar and leaned over the teak counter.

“Kenny C,” she called out to the bartender on the other end of the bar. “You’re as handsome as ever, you baldheaded lothario.”

Kenny laughed back at her. “Be there in a sec, honey.”

Satisfied she had complimented her favorite bartender to his satisfaction, she wiggled between the two men, pressing at each of them until they shifted marginally, then waited.

“You are trouble waiting to happen, Gypsy Rum,” Rule warned her as Kenny handed her the beer and smacked her an air kiss with a smile.

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Turning her head, she shot the Breed a look from the corner of her eye, taking in all those sexy dark looks and sensual-as-hell features.

Her heart kicked up a few beats, just as it always did whenever he was around, while she became slick and wet, her thighs clenching as her moist interest for him threatened to cause her no small amount of embarrassment.

After all, Breeds could smell a woman’s sexual interest.

Thankfully, if he sensed it, he never commented on it.

“One of these days, I might stop warning and start spanking.” Too-long, too-lush lashes lowered just enough to make her breath quicken just that little bit as she turned to face the cavernous room and lifted the beer to her lips.

He followed the journey, his gaze lingering several seconds as she took a drink of the alcohol, clenching her teeth at the little bitter bite that hit her taste buds.

Rule and his sidekick, Dane, enjoyed the busy talk-filled bars just as much as she pretended to, it seemed.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” Dane drawled, his South African accent sexy as hell but nowhere near as interesting as Rule’s dark, growly tone. “You know what they say about teasing lions, right?”

She gave her eyes a playful little roll before sliding Rule another sideways glance.

“And I have a habit of shooting men who touch when they’re not invited,” she reminded them both. “Besides, I think Commander Breaker is intelligent enough to understand the word ‘no.’”

Rule lifted the short glass of dark amber liquid to his lips and took a leisurely drink, his gaze holding hers as he obviously tried to hide his grin from her.

Evidently, she tended to amuse him, because he did that a lot while she was around.

“So tell me, luscious.” Dane surprised her with the little pet name and sudden flirtatious air. “What exactly does one have to do to earn an invitation to touch?”

No way!

He did not just ask that question! And he did not just give her that suggestive little wink! After weeks of obeying her no-touch, no-sex rules, this heir to some imagined South African throne was breaking the rules?

This could get interesting.

A little dangerous, but interesting considering his family was one of the Breeds’ main financial supporters.

“Overlook Junior there,” Rule drawled, his voice lazy and mocking despite that little hint of a rasp beneath his smooth tone. “His keeper was called home and there’s no one left to smack him around when he gets out of line.”

Now wasn’t this little sideshow quite the surprise and not exactly what she was used to from them? Not that a little flirting from them wasn’t normal. It was. But this was just a shade beyond flirting from Dane.

Lifting the beer to her lips once again, more to kill time and watch the dance floor than out of actual thirst, Gypsy took another long, leisurely sip.

On one side Dane’s emerald green eyes watched her with amused attraction. On the other side, Rule’s dark blue eyes had her breasts suddenly tingling, her nipples tightening. And between her thighs her clit was so hard and swollen she knew she’d be masturbating the second she walked into her bedroom when she returned home.

“You’re scaring her off, Breed,” Dane accused Rule then, his voice smooth and mocking. “You should run along and finish chasing shadows.” With a little flip of his fingers he dismissed Rule lazily. “I’ll see that this luscious little morsel is well taken care of.”

She nearly spewed her beer at the outrageous proclamation even as her senses skipped a beat, along with her heart, at his reference to Rule chasing shadows.

“You’re joking, right?” she laughed incredulously when she managed to swallow the mouthful of beer.

Straightening from her slouched position against the bar, eyes wide, she stared between the two friends.

“He always acts out when Rhys isn’t here to watch after him,” Rule drawled, the lazy amusement in his tone at odds with the sudden spark in his vivid blue eyes.

Was that anger?

Not quite, she decided, but whatever it was had her finely honed instincts instantly wary.

What game were these two playing?

“It’s starting to sound to me as though both of you need a keeper,” she suggested, amused by them, despite her wariness and sudden curiosity about Rule’s supposed search. “Is Rhys due back soon?”

Rhys or Ryan Desalvo, Dane’s friend and sometime bodyguard, was always deflecting attention from the other man. She often wondered if Dane’s habit of watching everyone was the reason why Rhys did it. So his friend could dissect and probe the psyches of those around him.

“Not real soon.” Dane shifted a little closer, his large body crowding her, forcing her to slide to the side, her eyes narrowing up at him.

Despite his rough, blond good looks, emerald eyes and lazy humor, she could always sense his detachment, his overly intent curiosity whenever his attention settled on her.

As it was, now.

“Should I have a few of my enforcers toss his amused ass out the door?” Rule’s lips were at her ear, his voice lazy and wicked, causing an indescribable warmth to slowly infuse her body.

Turning her heat to meet his gaze, she realized only then how close she had moved to him. Too close. Standing between his spread thighs, though he hadn’t taken advantage of the position.

He wasn’t touching her, though he surrounded her almost protectively.

His gaze held her.

Warmth and quiet amusement gleaming there, along with hunger.

A wicked, sensual, confident hunger that had her heart racing faster than before as her breath began to feel tight.

He made her want—

He made her want things she couldn’t have, hunger for things she knew he could never sate.

Never even attempt to fulfill.

She wanted him to touch her. She wanted it even though she knew it would only make the need clawing at her worse.

Dane was saying something, his voice faintly mocking. She ignored him, as did Rule. His gaze was locked with hers, his lips so close to hers, tempting her, drawing her—

...

The scent of her need—it actually outmatched the suspicion and that white-hot flare of curiosity that tinged the air.

Absently Rule ran his tongue over his teeth, just to be certain the glands beneath were still dormant. The scent of her need had his erection throbbing imperatively, his balls so tight with the need to spill his seed that it was nearing agony.

Jade green eyes were wide, filled with so many shadows and barely perceptible fears that he wanted nothing more in that moment than to see pleasure filling them. Hell, that was all he wanted every time he looked into the pretty green spheres and sensed the lust pulling them closer.

Her lips parted, that plump little lower lip feeling the damp caress of her tongue as it ran over it.

He could hear the thump-thump of her heart as it raced between her lush breasts, the curves defined and perfect beneath the snug little red tank top she wore.

That tiny bit of cloth paired with those butt-snug jeans and moccasin boots that laced up the sides of her shapely legs had him all but panting for her.

She made him hotter than he’d been in—hell, harder, hotter than he’d ever been. And now, as she stared up at him, her lips parted, that hunger blazing up at him, he was a second from taking that kiss he’d been longing for.

“Gypsy—”

The faint, barely perceptible buzz of a sat phone vibrating in one of her pockets—again—in a distinctive rhythm had Gypsy suddenly drawing up short.

Rule was going to hurt the caller, he decided.

Those intoxicating eyes widened, and a heartbeat later she moved from between his thighs, hurriedly stepping away from him.

Pulling the phone from her pocket, she quickly checked the number before her jaw tightened and that hint of fear became anger.

“I have to leave.” Shaking her head, her scent suddenly tinged with an emotion he couldn’t quite define, she hurriedly slapped a few bills on the bar.

There was a shadow overtaking her, a hint of fear and one of worry.

“Gypsy, wait—” Fuck.

Before he could stop her she turned, moving quickly to the door before disappearing into the night.

His eyes narrowed at her exit; the scent of her heat and hunger, marred by her fear, still lingered in his senses.

Along with it was the knowledge that until the small phone in her pocket had gone off, she had nearly been his.

Turning slowly back to Dane, he met the other Breed’s narrowed, suspicious gaze.

Lifting the short liquor glass to his lips, the hybrid glanced to the exit she had taken before turning back to him with a shrug.

“Well,” he drawled. “It would seem she may have a leash after all. Proprietary claim, I believe it was called.”

Rule’s glass slapped to the bar as his jaw clenched furiously. Turning, he followed the exit she had taken, determined to find out exactly who her leash might be. And when he did, as he told her before, he’d be taking fucking ownership.

Catching up with her, even on a good night, was a pain in the ass, and if he didn’t keep his eye right on her, then she was gone just as quickly.

And he was damned sick of her disappearing acts.

Stepping outside and catching sight of her taillights as the little Jeep sped from the parkway, he turned to Dane questioningly as the other man stepped behind him.

“Loki tagged the Jeep at her last location, but there was a complication,” Dane informed him somberly before he could ask.

“What kind of complication?” He strode quickly to the Dragoon, aware of Dane following quickly behind.

Dane was sliding into the passenger side as Rule closed the driver’s-side door and activated the motor with a quick flick of a finger against the ignition pad.

“No sooner than he’d tagged it and finished programming the signal, the device malfunctioned. Returning to where she parked, he found the Jeep gone and the device dropped carelessly to the gravel.”

Rule accelerated quickly as he pulled from the parking lot.

“Dropped? As in someone dropped it, or as in the mechanism that holds it to the vehicle failed?” he asked.

“The mechanism was still working, and at no time did Loki see her exit the bar by the front exit. Mutt was watching the back exit, and she didn’t leave from there either. Though there were several windows on the other side where she parked, and one was open enough to have allowed her to slip away.”

Gypsy was escaping rather than leaving?

Damn her, the evidence was racking up that she was possibly the contact Jonas was searching for, and it was starting to piss him off. Mostly because he couldn’t deflect attention from her and cover her movements.

“Jonas wants that Jeep tagged, Dane,” Rule reminded him, his voice short, wondering how the hell he was going to keep Jonas from tagging it. Pretty soon, one of Jonas’s men would figure out someone was warning her of those devices.

Dane chuckled. “Perhaps it’s time little brother learns he can’t always have what he wants. Because it seems other interested parties are just as determined that it not be tagged.”

Rule wisely refrained from commenting.

As the Dragoon pulled from the parking area, the comm link to the vehicle’s communications beeped in summons. Flicking the control on the steering wheel, Rule answered it with a brief “Go.”

“Commander, I have the vehicle in sight,” Mongrel, one of Dog’s Coyotes, reported with icy efficiency. “She picked up a tail just after pulling onto the main road. It’s riding black on a parallel course and staying close.”

Riding black. Moving with all lights extinguished to avoid detection and most likely using one of the side roads that ran along the highway to keep sight of her.

“Can you identify?” Rule questioned.

“Not without being seen.”

Rule grimaced, wishing he’d driven one of the faster, more maneuverable desert vehicles rather than the Dragoon.

“Keep the shadow in sight if possible, but remain eyes on target until I arrive.”

If Gypsy had picked up a tail, then he sure as hell didn’t want to give whoever was following her a chance to get to her before he could. Just in case it wasn’t friendly.

...

Pulling the Jeep into the parking spot beside the stairs, Gypsy breathed out wearily before slapping the steering wheel in frustration when she saw her sister’s truck wasn’t back yet.

Damn Kandy.

She’d promised she was on her way home when Gypsy had spoken to her on the phone. That was the reason she had left so quickly rather than waiting to see just how terrified she would become if Rule actually tried to kiss her.

Not that she would have let him kiss her in the bar, she assured herself. She couldn’t do that. Her reputation of refusing any man she met in a bar was golden. All it would take was one moment of weakness to undo years of work.

And Rule was quickly becoming her weakness.

He and Dane were steadily becoming known as “regulars” in the unofficial nightlife that existed around the reservation’s Arizona–New Mexico border with the Navajo Nation. It wasn’t as though they were strangers now.

If they weren’t at whatever bar she pulled into when she pulled in, then they arrived within minutes of her taking the first sip of her drink. They had a few drinks, watching the younger Breeds and enforcers that Rule obviously seemed to feel so responsible for, and then they would leave and check out the next rowdy gathering.

And all the while, Rule watched her, those thick lashes slightly narrowed, those neon blue eyes gleaming with interest.

And arousal.

And God, he made her hot.

When the rhythmic ring tone identifying Kandy’s number had vibrated in her pocket, it had terrified her. Because at that moment she had wanted nothing more than to—

“Are the sweets inside as nice as they are outside?”

A squeak of surprise and Gypsy was whirling around, almost reaching for the knife she kept tucked in the holster inside her boot.

Just almost, because she recognized his voice, knew who he was even before she turned. It just took a minute for her body to catch up.

“You prick, you just scared a year off my life!” Slamming both hands into the steel hard muscles of his chest as she let that first flush of adrenaline tear through her, she accomplished little else than bruising her palms. “What the hell are you doing here, Breaker? Trying to give me a freakin’ heart attack?”

“Someone was following you.”

There was no amusement in his eyes as there had been all week. No playful teasing in his voice.

He was flat serious.

She felt herself pale as she stared into his eyes and knew he wasn’t joking.

“Who was following me?” Why would anyone be following her? What the hell was going on that anyone would take an interest in her all of a sudden?

“If I’d known who was following you, sweet pea, I would be following him instead of rushing here to make sure you were okay.”

His voice sent her heart racing in something more than fear this time.

“I’m fine.” Was her voice really trembling?

It was really trembling.

That look in his eyes was pure serious. And it wasn’t just pure serious danger either. It was serious lust and intent. And she had a feeling she was not going to escape with a bit of flirting tonight.

“I can see that.” He nodded slowly.

The black of his mission uniform blended into the night. With his black hair and bronzed flesh, his blue eyes almost glowed in the dark. And they were hot.

“Yeah.” Shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, she hurriedly jerked them out as those eyes lowered, sliding across the tops of her breasts as they pushed out against the snug tank top she wore. “Um, I’m fine. You can leave. If you want. I mean, yeah, you can leave.” She felt like smacking her own head as the synapses between lips and brain seemed to misfire alarmingly.

What the hell was she supposed to do with her hands?

She crossed her arms over her breasts and that didn’t work. Finally, she just shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans uncomfortably.

“You got here fast. How did you pass me and I didn’t see you?” She cleared her throat, so nervous she swore she could feel her vocal cords trembling with it.

She would have noticed a Dragoon passing her in a heartbeat, and she knew she hadn’t seen it.

“Of course I got here fast. I had to make sure my favorite girl was safe.” His lips quirked just that little bit, his gaze lightening only marginally. “There’s no one else to bust my ass on a regular basis.”

“Because everyone else is trying too hard to get that tight ass naked,” she retorted.

Oh shit, she didn’t say that.

But she did.

His eyes narrowed on her. “But you’re not, of course?”

“Oh no. Not me. I’m just everyone’s best bud, haven’t you heard?” And that wasn’t bitterness in her voice now, was it?

But she knew better. The restlessness, the knowledge that the choices she had made over the years kept her life so sanitized it was painful, had the restlessness inside her growing until she felt she couldn’t contain it any longer.

“I hadn’t heard.” He took a step closer.

Was she supposed to retreat?

Retreat? Um, yeah. She stepped back. “Well, I’m fine. You see I’m fine.” Holding her hands back from her body, she went back another step. “You can go now. Where did you park anyway?” He wasn’t parked out back. “Wherever you parked, be careful now. See you later.”

But he wasn’t moving to leave. Instead, he was moving with her, a step toward her for every step she took back.

“Are you scared of me, Gypsy?” His voice was lower, a little raspier, rougher. And she liked the sound of it far too much.

She moved back another step as he moved closer. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body.

A gasp slipped past her lips before she could stop it as her retreat was suddenly halted by the privacy fencing that hid her sister’s front door from view of the parking lot and their parents’ home.

“Rule—” She couldn’t make herself say “No.” Instead, her hands lifted to press against his chest, only to find them securely caught in his broad hands.

A second later he had them secured firmly over her head and pressed against the fence behind her.

Dominance.

Power.

Arrogant sexuality and pure confidence.

The combination was maddening and highly arousing. So arousing she was creaming her panties furiously.

“This isn’t a good—” She knew what he was going to do. And she knew if she let him do it—

He didn’t ask permission, he didn’t give her a warning. Halfway through her own warning on the advisability of what she knew was coming, his lips covered hers, his tongue taking full advantage of her surprised gasp.

Too experienced, warm, with a hint of pure male determination, his lips covered hers and immediately set fire to her senses.

Chocolate and peppermint.

He tasted like chocolate and peppermint candy. Like pure sex and she wanted to lick him up one slow lick at a time.

His free hand cupped the side of her face as his thumb pressed at the tip of her chin, parting her lips further as his settled deeper into the kiss.

His lips plundered hers erotically. They licked over the plumped curves and at her curious tongue as his kiss assured her that he knew exactly what he was doing. And he knew exactly how to make it so damned good that she had no choice but to enjoy it.

And she was definitely enjoying it.

Her whole body was enjoying it.

His free hand moved from her chin to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her head back.

Releasing her wrists, his hand moved to her hip, gripped, then slid to her lower back before moving to the curve of her rear.

She was beyond fighting his kiss.

She was beyond fighting anything he wanted to give her right now.

Actually, she was more than ready to take more.

Gripping his shoulders and holding tight to him, Gypsy dug her nails into the black material of his uniform as he tugged at her hair again. The caress sent a radiant heat through her scalp and flooded her senses.

A groan, or a growl, rumbled in his throat as she arched to him.

A hard, heavy thigh slipped between her legs, the iron-hard muscle pressing firmly into the mound of her sex. The flesh there was so sensitive now that the contact burned through her jeans and the material of his uniform. Her clit was swollen, throbbing, the feel of her moisture easing from her vagina another caress against overly sensitive flesh.

Releasing her hair, his palm caressing down her back, to her side, then moving in a determined stroke to the ripe curve of her breast. There, his thumb found the tight, hard tip of her breast through the thin material of her tank top. The rasp of his callused fingertip sent hot arcs of sensation surging from the tight tip straight to the clenched, tension-filled area of her womb.

Pure, unbelievable pleasure began surrounding her, rushing through her veins, racing through her body.

Her hips tilted into the hard caress of his heavy thigh. Her clit rasped against the silk of her panties and denim of her jeans as his hard, muscular thigh flexed and rubbed against her.

For so many years she had wondered what it felt like, this pleasure she had denied herself for so long.

This Breed hadn’t bothered to sweep past any objections she might have.

He hadn’t given her a chance to object, period.

He hadn’t asked for permission.

He hadn’t even warned her.

He’d immediately flooded her entire body with such a rush of volatile pleasure that she couldn’t deny herself more.

And more.

Her tongue met his over and over again, rubbing against it, licking it, loving the taste of chocolate and peppermint she found there.

His palm cupped her breast, tested the weight, and he made that growly sound again as he released his hold. His hand slid to her hips, pressing beneath the hem of her shirt, and a second later he found bare skin.

If pleasure had been a rush of pure, adrenaline-laced heat flooding her veins before, the second his callused fingertips and palm brushed over her midriff, it became rocket fuel rushing through her system.

His fingertips rasped her sensitive flesh with destructive waves of sensation that fed pure sensual intensity straight to the suddenly hungry depths of her pussy. Her clit didn’t just throb now, it ached, hurting for his touch. Her nipples weren’t just tight, but so swollen, so blazingly sensitive that the scrape of her bra over the tight peaks was nearly too much to bear.

Too much to bear, and yet it wasn’t enough sensation.

Heat seared her nerve endings as a chill raced over her flesh, raising goose bumps along her arms as she shuddered within his hold.

His touch moved over her midriff to below her waist, halting there for a second before his lips tore from hers and Gypsy realized she was panting, desperate for air, yet just as desperate for his kiss again. A shaky moan left her lips and her lashes fluttered open as his kiss slid over her jaw to the sensitive line of her neck.

She arched against him helplessly, a mewling little whimper leaving her lips as his fingers tightened in her hair again, tugging at it. His teeth scraped against her neck, causing her to arch to her toes as a wave of exquisite pleasure exploded beneath his caressing lips and at her scalp at the same time.

She felt as though her nerve endings were racing to get as close to his lips and his tugging hand as possible. Her breasts were so swollen above his other palm that it was all she could do not to beg him to touch her.

All this was happening right here, in plain sight of anyone who might drive down the street behind the store.

It wasn’t exactly the outskirts of town. She lived only two blocks from Main Street, for God’s sake.

“Do we do this here?” he growled at her neck. “Or do we do this in the comfort of your bed?”

Her bed?

The implications of what they were doing exploded in her head.

“No.”

Who was more surprised when she tore away from him and managed to duck beneath his arm to escape to the bottom of the steps, her or Rule?

As she stared back at him, the glow of his eyes, like neon flames, seemed to lick over her body in promise.

It was a promise that sent a bolt of fear tearing through her.

When his gaze met hers, there was a warning in them as well. One that stroked over her body and seared her senses like a brand and assured her that he wouldn’t let her run for long.

“You don’t run away from pleasure that extreme, little girl,” he assured her, a confident smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“Watch me.” She wasn’t waiting around for him to actually touch her again and prove his words.

Jerking her house key from her back pocket, she fumbled for a moment before she turned and ran up the stairs. She heard him pounding up the steps behind her. A second later the key slid in, the door opened, and she jumped into the apartment, slamming the door behind her and sliding the deadbolt home just as she heard him reach the narrow deck outside.

A chuckle whispered through the door. “Who are you scared of, Gypsy? Me, or yourself?”

Him, she assured herself. It was definitely him scaring the shit out of her, not her response to him, not the knowledge that she was throwing her life away to have sex with a Breed if she continued this course.

“You are insane,” she accused him, her voice rough. “Stop trying to seduce me, Rule. It’s not going to happen.”

The low male laughter sent a shudder of need clenching at her pussy.

“Tell yourself that while you’re whispering my name and spilling all your sweet cream along whatever toy you use to get yourself off tonight, Gypsy.” There was the slightest edge of knowing irritation as he growled the words.

Gypsy closed her eyes tight, knowing she would be doing just that and hating him for it.

God, she so didn’t want to want him like this. Like he was the best thing since breathing and she needed him just as much as she did the air she took in. But even now, she ached to feel his lips on hers again and she could have sworn the taste of peppermint was lingering in her senses.

As she inhaled hoarsely, her fingers drifted over the tops of her breasts, her breath catching at the pleasure—

“I can make it feel better, baby,” he crooned through the door. “All night, while you’re screaming because the pleasure is so damned good, each orgasm so hot and exciting that all you want to do is reach out for the next one before the last one is finished pulsing through that hot little pussy.”

“Go away!” Jumping away from the door, Gypsy turned to face the panel, heat surging through her as she had to force herself not to open the door for him.

“Sweet dreams, lovely Gypsy,” he repeated, the amusement in his voice lazy and arrogant. “I’ll see you soon.”

See her soon?

“Not if I see you first,” she muttered.

“I heard that. My sense of smell isn’t my only talent.”

Of course he had an excellent sense of smell. Of course he knew just how desperately she wanted him. That was her damned luck.

She was hot, the sensitive flesh between her thighs so swollen and needy it ached, her clit filled with such heat it was nearly unbearable.

He had to be able to smell it, because fate certainly wouldn’t allow her to deny it.

Her face flamed with embarrassment. “I’m calling the sheriff.”

He didn’t answer.

What was the pervert doing now?

“Did you hear me? I’m calling the sheriff.”

Listening closely, hearing nothing but the racing of her heart thundering in her ears, eyes wide, she tried to determine whether he was still out there.

The faintest sound of a Desert Dragoon starting up, its powerful motor echoing from the front of the building, had Gypsy racing into the living room to peek between the heavy curtains hanging there.

Gazing down at the lighted street, she watched as the black all-terrain vehicle eased from its parking spot and then, with a burst of speed, raced down the street.

“Playing with fire, Whisper? And here I thought you understood the rules? Tell me, did you even search his suite as you were supposed to?”

She laid her head against the window at the sound of the low, grating voice behind her.

She should have expected this.