Lawe's Justice - Lora Leigh [44]
“As you did in that little village in Syria last year when your uncle’s enemies got their hands on you? Where were your men then, Diane? Let me tell you where they were,” he informed her as he cast a hard and brutally iced look. “They were nice and safe and not risking their asses because Thor and the two Breeds with you at the time had the good sense to contact Sanctuary. Do you have a fucking clue the danger it would have represented if your captors had had a clue that they held the sister-in-law to the director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs?”
Lawe could feel it. That loss of control that signaled Diane’s determination to challenge him in both words and deed. He could smell her intent to push him, see it in her gaze and in her expression as she stood there glaring at him.
“What about those Coyotes that pierced your hide with their bullets last year?” she charged as her brow lifted mockingly, anger glimmering in her dark brown eyes. “Neither of us exactly lives a safe life. Stop trying to pretend you’re the only one who does.”
“And I’m supposed to stand aside when I have the ability to hedge your chances of surviving?” He could feel the growl threatening to edge into his voice.
Damn her, he could feel the animal inside wakening at her determination to place her life in danger. As though she were daring the enemy to strike. Daring him to make his move and challenge her.
“What you should have done was left my Breeds on my damned team instead of taking them away from me and giving me the choice to contact you when I needed them.” Her voice rose along with her anger as she glared back at both of them.
“The shooter today was Gideon,” Jonas informed her quietly as he broke in on the battle getting ready to flare to life. “He’s been following you for weeks, Diane. The team tracking you has had signs of the shadow on your ass but they couldn’t verify. All they had was a sense of it. Catching sight of him has been impossible despite their efforts, and you know my men are damned good.”
She knew Gideon, the Executioner, had no intention of killing her, despite appearances. Not once had she herself been struck by one of the precisely aimed bullets. But three of her men had been. Three she couldn’t be certain weren’t betraying her.
“And if your men hadn’t been between me and him, perhaps he would have taken the advice I left for him at my previous location and actually come out of the shadows and arranged a meet,” she suddenly yelled at him as she threw her hands up in fury.
In her room she’d left an answer to the message she’d received in Argentina. She’d done everything possible to draw the Executioner to a meeting after he had left her the warning that she was being betrayed.
“My God, Jonas, do you realize how many times your men, by his order probably, stood between me, my contacts and my damned missions?” She stabbed her finger in Lawe’s direction as a haze of disbelief filled her mind.
She was furious.
There was no scent quite as intoxicating as feminine fury, unless it was female lust. And the lust was definitely there, Lawe thought as he felt that instantaneous, burning hunger suddenly sear his mind.
She wanted to hide it. She wanted to deny it. She would have denied it to hell and back if he confronted her over it. She would cut her nose off to spite her face and they both knew it.
She was so determined to