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"The fuck you can. What is it with women who think they can handle men? When you're locked in the bedroom with him and he's insisting that you're going to fuck him, what will you do then?"
She frowned at me. "I'll figure something out. Or I'll just fuck him because that's called acting in the mission's best interest."
The pain rocketed in my groin as if I'd been kicked. And the fury coursing through my veins ratcheted up yet another notch, making me come around my desk and roar, "You'd do fucking what?"
"If the assignment requires me to sleep with him, I will. Sometimes you have to do shit because that's what the job calls for, you wanker."
I took a step toward her. "So, you’ll go undercover with the billionaire and spread your legs? Over my dead fucking body. All my agents will act with decorum."
She laughed. "With decorum. Are you talking about when Lock hid his relationship with your sister and then they were forced to fuck on a mission and admit their feelings for each other?"
I blinked rapidly. "That was different."
"Okay, if you claim that was different, then what about the time you put Saint undercover with Kaya and he shagged her?"
My arguments started to crumble like a three-day old scone. "This is different from their situation."
“Really? You’ve also forgotten Rook. He fucked Nissa, too. So that might as well be a mission standard around these parts. But you're telling me that if I shag him to get information, that's terrible. Is that because he's the enemy and not working with us?"
I clamped my jaw shut. "It's more dangerous for you because it's with a strange man. That's all I care about."
"You think I don't know strange men are a danger? Every time I go on a date or just walk in a dark car park it's dangerous for me. Jesus, Gabe! Might I remind you that a good deal of money has been spent making sure that I can handle myself? I know what I'm doing. If Oversight thinks I can do this, why the fuck don't you?"
I backed her up, crowding her. "It's my call to make, and you're not going."
10
Gabe
I was the arsehole.
Worse, she knew it. So did Saff.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I ran my hands through my hair, trying to calm my emotions. I could feel the control slipping out of my fingers, but the tighter I grasped, the harder it was to hold onto.
Control had never been a problem for me.
Until you tasted her.
Bloody fucking hell. I’d lost control for one bloody moment, and she’d stormed out. I was sure Saff thought I’d bloody lost it.
There was a time after I'd come to live with the Abotts that I had been out of control. A time when I was a completely different person.
To rein in that wild boy, our father immediately put me in martial arts. He had one of the Rogues trainers work with me daily, sometimes twice, to exercise the anger and teach me calm.
Control was the only way I had survived.
I had to get my shit together. I didn't have any feelings for her.
If that's what we're going with, you liar.
There was a knock at my door, and I glanced up to find it already open with my brother-in-law poking his head through.
"What's up, bruv?" Lachlan's slang grated on my nerves.
"Christ, what do you want, King?"
