Page 59 of Playing with Fire

“Is so very, very wrong. In bed. On the counter. On the floor. If it’s found in a house and can support the weight of a wilting lily like me and a big, handsome, muscular man, I’ve probably had sex on it.”

I dodged Quinn’s spray of coffee and smirked while he choked out, “Gardener!”

“You said I could say whatever I wanted. Sir, you can write whatever you want, but make sure the phrase ‘definitely not a virgin’ is in there. Not a virgin. I’m very happy not being a virgin, thank you. If that prince wants me to beat the shit out of him again, can he wait until next week? Say, on Tuesday? I think I take my first self-defense course on Monday. For the record, Chief Quinn’s ex-wife wants me to have her babies, too. The answer is no, no, no, and no. I am not going to serve as a gorgon harem mistress and help them spawn their little whelps. Absolutely not happening.”

“I now understand why you informed Chief Quinn of the situation. How about this? I’ll pass on a polite refusal and inform him that while you are single, you’re not a virgin.”

“I’m not single, either, sir.”

“Your file indicates you’re a loner, Miss Gardener. There are no relationships of any sort listed, no emergency contacts, nothing.”

“I’m not single. I just haven’t figured out how to get the bastard to marry me yet.”

Quinn slid off his chair and ended up on the floor, coughing and wheezing.

And laughing. The man was definitely laughing between the coughing and wheezing fits. I sighed. “Chief Quinn, will you stop laughing, please? I’m on the phone. You told me to say whatever I wanted.”

“This could simplify matters for us. Do you have proof of a relationship I can provide for His Highness?”

“I need proof? Since when was no an insufficient answer?”

“The CDC needs to provide evidence a potential surrogate among our employees isn’t eligible. It’s a rather annoying law.”

“I’m not technically an employee. I’m a contractor. I’m still saying no. That’s also ridiculous. I’m not serving as a surrogate, period. Not for him, and definitely not for one of his gorgon friends, either. There’s only one man I’ll even consider having children with, sir. End of story. I’m unwilling.”

Quinn coughed another laugh out. I grabbed the nearest available object, a hardback reference book, and dropped it on him. A satisfying thump heralded a grunt and a groan.

“Proof of a relationship and confirmation of your…”

“Very active and happy sex life?” I provided, unable to stop from smiling. Since I was certain my words pleased Quinn, I dropped another book on him.

“Yes, that. If you can provide verification, the CDC can ensure no one will bother you in the future.”

“How the hell am I supposed to provide verification? Should I corner my man and record it or something? Should I have sex in a public place with him? Haven’t you heard about privacy, sir? Is this so-called gorgon prince a pervert who just wants a chance to watch? If he wants pornography, tell him to get it off the internet.”

Quinn sounded like he was dying on the floor, so I dropped a third book on him. When that didn’t stop him from laughing, I grabbed a three-inch binder, which seemed to do the trick. “I’m not a broodmare to be put up for sale to the most fashionable stud. What sort of legal verification would work? Because I promise you, some dimwit rapist prince isn’t having anyone poke at me to confirm my virginity. Are we understood?”

“A marriage license would be sufficient to prove an engagement, if you can find a man willing to sign one. They last a period of six months before they expire. I’m sure if you have an actual boyfriend, this wouldn’t prove too problematic for you to acquire.”

Wow. The head of the CDC had a set of brass balls on him, that was for certain. “Let me get this straight. I’m going to be sexually harassed by someone of another species unless I coerce someone into signing a marriage certificate.”

“Essentially, yes. In your file, you are described as an argumentative and difficult individual. Your performance record is top notch. Our records also indicate you’re currently unemployed. I can offer you a lucrative position.”

“That position better not be as a surrogate, Mr. Clemmends.”

“Bring me proof of your non-single marital status and we’ll discuss the proposal for your employment, Miss Gardener.” He hung up on me. The bastard had hung up on me. I listened to the dial tone for a solid minute before I returned the phone to its cradle.

An amused, unharmed Quinn got to his knees beside his desk. “You’re speechless. Such a rare moment. I need to really enjoy this.”

“I have to prove I’m not a virgin and that my marital status is not eternally single, Quinn. How the hell am I supposed to prove I’m not a virgin?”

“We could—”

“Don’t even think about it, buddy.”

He grinned at me, gathered the dropped books, and set them on his desk. “It’s easy. I’ll ask an angel or an incubus to confirm. Preferably an angel. An incubus would take one look at you and want to experience you for himself. I don’t share. As for the other part, I have an idea.” Picking up his phone, Quinn dialed a number. “Commissioner? It’s Sam. I need the day off—and possibly part of tomorrow—to deal with the psycho ex-wife, another gorgon issue, and some personal business. I also broke my phone again, so I need to pick up a new one. I’ll give you a call on it later today.”

“You’re a terrible police chief, Quinn,” I muttered.