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ng over it. She hated to whine, and begging wasn’t her style.
“I have a meeting to go to.” The deep rasp of his voice sent a thrill of response down her spine.
Of course he had a meeting to go to. Jonas was waiting for him two floors above, along with whatever evidence they had taken from her computer and the latest crime scene.
“Figures.” She gave another shrug and kept her attention on the television, carefully controlling her response to him as well as her own plans.
“I’ll be a while.” There was an edge of impatience to his voice now.
“Take your time.” She waved him away, allowing just enough of her own anger to show to allay any suspicions that she might be hiding something or have a meeting of her own planned.
Text messaging was a wonderful, wonderful invention. And Dog was so sneakily efficient that he even avoided messaging while Cabal was in the room with her. That was damned scary. It made her wonder if he had an eye in her room, or an ear, that Cabal might have overlooked.
She glanced over at her mate to catch him watching her silently. On second thought, she doubted he’d missed anything, especially not an electronic bug in either of their rooms.
“Look, Cassa, I know you don’t understand my need to protect you . . .”
“Don’t start.” She held her hand up in a halting motion. “I’m not fighting you any further.”
His lips thinned in irritation. For the past two days she had refused to discuss his stubborn insistence that she wasn’t a part of this investigation. She wasn’t arguing anymore.
“We’re going to have to discuss it.” The words came from between gritted teeth. Poor little Bengal, at the rate he was going he wasn’t going to have any molars left by the time he left Glen Ferris.
By the time she left him.
“You mean I’m going to have to agree with you and turn my independence over to you sooner or later,” she retorted sweetly. “Nope, sorry, my pretty striped tiger, it’s not gonna happen.”
A frown jumped between his brows at her mocking pet name for him. He hated any references to those sexy-as-hell stripes. Too bad, because she rather liked them herself.
“That wasn’t what I meant.” There went another layer of those molars.
“Don’t you have a meeting to go to?” She turned the television up louder as she settled more comfortably in her chair and directed her attention to the weather for Glen Ferris for the next week. Looked like it was going to be colder than normal. Big surprise there.
Behind her, Cabal blew out a hard breath. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Maybe we could go downstairs for dinner when I get back.”
She shrugged. She had no desire to eat with him, not when she was getting ready to share burgers with a Coyote who had information.
Damn Cabal. Did he think the thought of a meal with him was going to make up for what he was trying to take away from her?
“Cassa.” He was in front of her before she could move away, bending until he could stare into her eyes, his knees bracketing her legs as the backs of his fingers brushed against her cheek.
The curiously gentle caress had unbidden tears threatening to moisten her eyes. And that, after she had promised herself she wasn’t going to cry.
She stared back at him coolly. He might be able to smell the turmoil brewing inside her, but that didn’t mean she was going to allow him to see it. And it sure as hell didn’t mean she was going to beg.
“What?” Her voice was husky, a measure of the emotion slipping free to roughen the tone as the very nearness of him affected her senses.
“I’m not trying to steal your independence.”
Oh yeah, she believed that one. She could see the proof of his statement. Yeah, boy. Sitting right here as big as life and as ignorant as a rock was Cassa Hawkins. Slammed right out of an investigation that involved her more than it likely did any Breed that Jonas Wyatt had brought in to investigate it.
None of those Breeds had been married to the man the killer wanted. A man who was dead.
She stared back at him silently. Refusing once again to argue her own points or the dishonesty of his statement.
His hand cupped her cheek. She expected him to kiss her, to pull her to him, to infuse her senses with the taste of the mating hormone that she knew would fill the kiss. Instead, he leaned forward, his head lowered, and his lips pressed against the sensitive flesh at the bend of her neck and shoulder.
The kiss was poignantly tender and filled with all the warmth, the need, that she had wanted to feel when his body covered hers at night. It held everything he had refused to give her at any other time.
