Page 22 of Untamed Sinner

His mouth curves into something that's almost a smile—almost. "Say it."

I cross my arms—tight. "No."

"Amanda—"

"We have work to do." I turn my attention back to my donut, trying to ignore him—trying to ignore the way my body flips on when he says my name like that. I press my lips shut so I don’t purr Yes, sir at him.

“Aman—"

"We need to figure out who this girl is and prevent her from being taken,” I interrupt quickly. “We need to⁠—"

"You're deflecting."

I level a gaze at him that makes most grown men piss themselves. "I'm prioritizing."

Hendricks looks amused instead of cowed, the fucker. "You're scared."

The word hits like a slap. I meet his gaze head-on. "I'm not scared of you."

"I didn't say you were scared of me."

Fuck—he's right again. I'm not scared of him. I'm scared of this—whatever this is between us. The pull. The want. The way my body responds to him even when my brain is screaming at me to keep my distance.

I push back from the table, needing to break the moment. "We're not making progress. Maybe I should call Gabriel and ask him to question Turner directly about the girl."

The change in Hendricks is immediate and visceral. His jaw tightens. His eyes go cold—colder than usual. His entire body shifts, tension radiating off him in waves.

"Gabriel," he says, and there's something sharp in his voice. Something dangerous.

“Yeah. Gabriel Reyes.” I raise an eyebrow. “You know, the guy who helped take down Turner? The guy who's currently holding him in a dungeon somewhere?"

Hendricks stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "Don't call him.”

I frown. "Why not?"

"Because I said so."

Irritation flaring hot in my chest, I stand too. "That's not an answer."

The look on his face stops me cold. It's not anger. It's something else—something raw and unguarded that he's usually too controlled to show.

Jealousy.

Holy shit. He's jealous.

23

HENDRICKS

“You’re jealous,” Mandy says, surprise threading through the words. The satisfaction comes a second later. “You’re jealous of Gabriel.”

I don’t answer. Silence usually works for me. People fill it. Retreat from it. Reveal things they shouldn’t.

Mandy just smiles, because she already has her answer.

She’s right—I’m jealous.

The realization settles somewhere behind my ribs, foreign and unwelcome. I’ve spent five weeks controlling every response to this woman. Maintaining distance. Keeping the lines clear. Then she says another man’s name and apparently all that discipline goes to shit.