The Omega Team

Chapter 7

"I assume you might shoot me if I try to head out the door," she said, "but is it safe to use the bathroom?"

He almost laughed. He could really like her if he let himself. He minimized the document on his screen and pushed back his chair.

"This way." He indicated the short hallway with his hand.

"Are you planning to come in with me?" She turned her head and gave him a half-smile over her shoulder as he followed her down the hallway.

"Not unless you have the idea you can crawl out the window and get away. I should point out, however, it has bars on it."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Leave before I find out what the hell this is all about? Not on your life."

Grey stood there, staring at the door she closed in his face. Who the hell is this woman? She had to have some kind of balls to behave this way. Practically every other woman he'd ever met would either be pitching a fit or screaming for him to tell her what was going on. Or, worse yet, dissolving in tears. Of course, none of them would have had the moxie to break into Bostic's heavily protected house.

He still stood there, rattling it through his brain, when the door opened and he found himself practically nose to nose with her. And what a nose it was. In the dim light from the hall fixture, he got his first good look at her face. High cheekbones and a softly rounded jawline were accented by pouty lips that under very, very different circumstances he'd be in a hurry to lick.

Her eyes were a dark green, framed by the thickest lashes he'd ever seen, and everything was painted on a canvas of delicate olive skin.

Jesus!

He had major business here, and it didn't include slobbering over this woman's attributes, especially since he had no idea how she fit into the whole picture yet. Maybe it was just too long since he'd gotten laid, but s*x had not been on his to-do list since Lucky's death.

The silent treatment hadn't worked, so he decided to try a different tack.

"I'm getting some coffee," he told her. "Care for a cup?"

She tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look. "I might if I knew whether I'm here as your prisoner or your guest."

"Have some coffee with me, and maybe you'll find out. And maybe you'll also tell me what you were doing in Senator Drake Bostic's private den."

"We'll see." She shrugged. "You show me yours, and I'll show you mine."

When they were seated across from each other at the small kitchen table, they spent a long moment in a stare down. Grey swallowed a tiny smile of satisfaction when she looked away first.

"Took longer than I thought," he told her. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"I could ask you the same thing. And what's with all this electronic equipment?" She waved toward the living room. "Some new kind of décor?"

Another long moment of silence. He could tell she had the discipline to wait for his answer, but his control was greater. He could wait her out.

"Okay, I'll play." She swallowed some coffee. "I'm a cop. What's your excuse for this exercise?"

He laughed. "A cop breaking into Bostic's house? I thought he owned all of you."

She wrinkled her nose as if she'd just smelled something unpleasant. "Not this one, damn it." She took another drink of her coffee and sat up straighter. "Maybe that's why I was at his house tonight. Why were you there?"

Grey had survived as long as he had by learning when to trust his gut, and right now his gut told him this woman was not the enemy. But he had to step carefully here. If his instincts were wrong, the whole thing could fall apart and he'd never take the senator down. And he could see this woman sizing him up much as he'd done to her.

The stare down continued until at last she sighed.

"I guess if you were going to kill me or torture me, you'd already have done it." She drained the last of her coffee. "I'm a cop, but not one Bostic owns."

He nodded. "I guessed that. His pet cops wouldn't be breaking and entering in his house. So, what's your deal with him? Not enough money coming your way?"

She clenched her fists, and, for a moment, he thought she might actually reach out and strike him. She did her best to blank her face, but the anger in her eyes flared so hot it almost singed him.

"I'm a real cop, asshole, not one who's for sale. I just got fed up seeing his crap one too many times."

He studied her for a long moment. "Why don't you tell me about it?"