Stepping into the elevator, she punched the button, leaning against the side of the metal cubicle as she smothered a yawn and waited for that little ping that indicated the ride was coming to an end. Which meant her week was coming to an end soon as well, and hopefully, at least one good night’s sleep.
Straightening from the wall as the doors slid open, Gypsy stilled, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the man she’d come to see.
Dressed in dun-colored tactical pants and a matching T-shirt, he could have been hot as hell, if he didn’t work at being an ass**le so often. Light brown hair, brown eyes and a well-tanned complexion made him a real hit with all the other ladies he knew, though.
She must be weird, because she simply hadn’t ever been interested.
“Hell, I usually have to track you down when I return,” she drawled, standing straight and moving from the elevator as he glared at her.
What the hell had she done anyway?
“How long have you been back?” Cullen Maverick, commander of the agency, demanded, his tone dark, the snap in it irritating.
Damn, he must have already taken his prick pills for the day.
“How long does it take to get from the underground garage to here?” Mockery was usually the best and most effective weapon against his grumpiness. “Try chilling out a sec, Maverick.”
“Then you’ve not been back long enough to realize there’s a damned Breed APB out on your ass, right?”
She did freeze this time. She didn’t just pause.
Coming to a hard stop, she pivoted and just stared at Cullen, certain she must have misunderstood what he said.
“There’s a what?” she asked carefully, praying she wasn’t giving away that panicked where-can-I-hide feeling beginning to shoot through her.
“You heard me,” he snapped. “An unofficial Breed APB put out on you by Commander Rule Breaker. What the f**k is going on?”
“Unofficial?” She snorted at that one. Well, that happened just about every other day after she pissed one of them off. Or unless the director’s baby wanted more “moo-cake.” “When it becomes official, let me know.”
Turning on her heel, she began tracking to his office, knowing damned good and well he wasn’t going to take possession of what she had anywhere else.
Cullen wasn’t fond of the security cameras picking up every move he made or the information exchanged between him and his men. Or his contacts, such as Gypsy.
Besides, her cover of irritating Cullen just for the hell of it had already been established and followed for years. Unless she was actually seen handing something over, then she’d be screwed. And so would he be. For a minute anyway.
His office door was locked, as usual.
Paranoid prick, she thought, respecting the hell out of him for being as suspicious as he was.
The snick of the lock being deactivated followed his hand moving into his pants pocket. Wrapping her hand around the knob again, she stepped inside the office and waited for the door to close behind him.
Once the room was secure, she removed the small case holding the nano-nit she’d collected from the spa in Broken Butte, New Mexico. She’d put it in place more than a month ago, in the manager’s office where the majority of the information would go through.
Full audio and video.
The tiny bit of robo-electronics was incredible.
“Here you go.” Smothering a yawn, she handed the small plastic case over to him. “Mission accomplished and all that.”
He took the case—ultra thin, an inch square perhaps—and flipped it to his desk, still glaring at her.
Uh-oh.
Gypsy stared at the case, then back to Cullen as her lips thinned in irritation.
“I’m not in the mood for this shit,” she informed him warily. “I don’t know what your problem is . . .”
“If you’re sleeping with that Breed, then kindly inform me now,” he snapped, his arms going over his broad chest, his brown eyes snapping with ire. “Because he’s making my life highly uncomfortable, Gypsy. Highly.” The last word was a low, furious sound directed between his clenched teeth.